From That Moment: A Promise Me Novel

by Ryan, Carrie Ann

  “Fucking assholes. Why do you put up with it?”

  “You’re serious? I put up with it because I love what I do, I make damn good money, it has a fantastic health insurance plan, and…as I said, I’m damn good at my job. I’d have to deal with this no matter where I went. So, they can all be leery of me and just watch me do my best work, or I can whine about it to the boss constantly and never get anywhere.”

  “Jesus,” I grumbled. “You don’t have to worry about that from me. I’m not one of those guys.”

  “I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?” she asked, lifting her chin. “Because you’re only here for six months. I’ve been here for a long damn time. This is where I want to stay. So don’t fuck this up for me. And yes, language. See what you made me do? I’ve become Paris in the streets, rather than Paris at work.”

  The fact that my mind went to Paris and the sheets was something I’d have to deal with.

  “Remember, we work together. You aren’t my boss, and I’m not yours. So, don’t even think about trying to order me around.”

  Now I was getting pissed off. “I wasn’t thinking that. Did you not hear me when I said that I like quality assurance? I mean, hell, I told you I’m going to make mistakes. I need someone to help me clean them up. If you’re going to be a jerk about it, then I might get angry.”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to see, won’t we?”

  “Are you ever going to tell me why you hate me so much?”

  “I just said—”

  I cut her off. “No, not right now. From before. You’ve always grumbled about me and around me. At every dinner or event that we do as a group, you always growl at me. It’s the same way Myra growls at Nate, and Dakota practically hides from Macon. I don’t know what’s going on with all of you guys, but I’m sick of it. Unless you stop being friends with Hazel, we’ll be stuck in the vicinity of each other for a long damn time. And now that I’m working here for the next six months? We’re going to be working closely. So, stop hating me and start working with me.”

  “I don’t hate you. I just don’t like you.”

  This time, I laughed. “You don’t even know me.”

  “No, I don’t, but you’re like all the guys here. And I’ve had to fight to get where I am. And I’m tired of it. I like my job, and people like Benji make it harder and harder for me to continue liking it. Maybe I’m a bitch, but people can fuck right off.”

  “You’re not a bitch,” I grumbled. I didn’t even like saying the word.

  “Far from it. You just like things done right. As you should. You may hate me on sight, but I’m not going to use that word.”

  “Whatever.” And then she froze, cursing herself.

  “Great, I’ve been in here longer than two minutes, and now everyone’s going to think I’m fucking the new employee.”

  “If I hear anything, I’ll put those rumors to rest. Because no matter where I work, I don’t take kindly to assholes putting women down. Putting anyone down for that matter.”

  “You say that, and yet they’re going to be high-fiving you while calling me a whore.”

  I counted to ten so I wouldn’t say something I’d regret later. “Why do you love this place so much if that’s how you automatically think?”

  “Because it hasn’t happened here yet. It happened at the last place I worked. I’m used to it. I’m a woman in a man’s world. It’s what happens. However, I’m done playing nice about it.”

  Her phone buzzed, and she looked down at it as if she weren’t even thinking and then paled.

  “What is it?”

  “Nothing. Just stupid pact stuff.”

  That made me smile. I knew about the pact. The four women—Hazel, Paris, Myra, and Dakota—had decided to make a pact to set each other up on dates. Blind dates, friend dates, dates of some sort. So they could all find their happily ever afters, or at least a good time. Somehow, my brother had ended up in the middle of it, although Cross had been an accidental blind date. It seemed to have worked for him and Hazel, though, because they were happy and talking about marriage.”

  I knew Paris was up next, but it had been a good six months since they’d started this. I didn’t realize that she was still on the chopping block.

  “Do you have a date?”

  She cursed under her breath, and I held back a smile. “Apparently, they’re setting me up again.”

  “Again?”

  “Okay, this is the friendship zone. Once I leave here, we’re going back to being coworkers. Okay?”

  “You said friendship. I’m going to take that as a win.”

  She glared at me, but I saw her mouth twitching. “I think this is my fifth blind date. I suck at it.”

  I shook my head, not even bothering to wince. “You don’t suck at it. People all over the world suck at dating. I don’t understand blind dates at all.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Meeting up with a stranger and then forcing yourself to parade around on a date when you’re starting from scratch? No, that doesn’t sound like a cup of tea to me. And statistics are going to show that there’s not a high success rate.”

  “My statistics show there is no success rate,” she said dryly.

  “Perhaps, but you’re trying. Though you did pale a bit there. What’s wrong with your date?”

  “Oh, they just helped me set it up. It’s tonight. Yay.”

  This time, I did wince at her tone. “It can’t be that bad.”

  She snorted. “Oh, honey. You have no idea.”

  And then I smiled, and she smiled back, and something inside me warmed a bit.

  Okay, that was interesting. However, it meant nothing.

  After all, we were working together, though I was pretty sure Paris didn’t like me at all. She may be friends with my group, but she was going on a blind date, and I was in a semi-serious relationship.

  And Allison wouldn’t like the fact that I had images of Paris in my head. Oh, she wouldn’t have minded in the past, but now that Paris and I were working together? No, that wasn’t about to happen.

  “We’ll make this work, Paris.”

  “My dating, or what?”

  I laughed.

  “We’ll make this whole work thing work. I want this job, and you say you’re the best, so let’s prove those who think otherwise wrong.”

  “Maybe,” she said softly. “Or perhaps it’s only going to get worse.”

  “We’ll make this work,” I repeated.

  “I sure hope so. Because I love my job. It’s pretty much the only thing I have.” And with that comment, she walked away, leaving the door open and me standing there wondering what the hell had just happened.

  The only thing she had? No, she had more than that. Like I did.

  At least, I thought so.

  As I looked around my empty office, I wondered what the hell we were going to do. Because I still had a feeling that Paris didn’t like me. Not because I was me, but maybe because I represented everything that sucked in this industry. Or perhaps she really didn’t like me. I didn’t know. But in the end, it wouldn’t matter. Because I was going to prove that I was the best at my job. We were going to finish a fucking amazing project. Then, I was going to leave and go back to my previous position and another project that I loved.

  And Paris would just have to deal with that.

  I had a contract that I was pretty much going to love as long as I could make this work, a woman that I could maybe see myself with someday, and a family I cared for and loved being with.

  My life was on the right track, finally.

  What could go wrong?

  Chapter 2

  Paris

  I set my vodka gimlet down next to my water and smiled at the man in front of me. Was it a smile? Yes, it had to be a smile. It certainly could not be an actual grimace, even though I felt it. Because despite this being my fifth blind date in a matter of six months, I would not grimace at the man who sat across from me.

  This one wa
s going to work. I would find something in common with him. I would smile, I would have a wonderful evening and perhaps plan a second date.

  This one was not going to end in catastrophic failure.

  He licked his lips and grinned at me, but not at my face. No, he was looking at my boobs.

  Or maybe I was only imagining things.

  Okay, perhaps this date would be a catastrophic failure, but that was fine. Nothing was on fire yet. I was not stressing out.

  Was I speaking quickly, even in my head? I felt like I was rambling.

  I resisted the urge to rub my temples. That wouldn’t help anyone. I needed to focus and be happy. And, apparently, take what I could get.

  Andy smiled again and reached for his Woodford on ice. It was a good whiskey, one I liked when I traveled, so at least he had decent taste.

  “So, what is it you do again? I know you told me the title, but could you maybe tell me a bit more?”

  Step one, get to know Andy. Get to know his work. Try not to roll my eyes when he condescended. Not that he would. Just because I’d thought he had been condescending to me right off the bat didn’t mean that was actually the case. Perhaps I was putting my own spin on things after my frustrating day at work.

  “I’m a hedge fund manager,” he said, smiling again, this time, at my eyes. That was a plus.

  “Yes, you said that. I don’t have a hedge fund or anything like that, so I’d love to hear more about what you do.”

  I wouldn’t. However, I was grasping for straws here. I couldn’t bring out my checklist of okay what are your hobbies, have you been married before, do you condone cheating, what do you think about monogamy, what are your feelings on misogyny, how many children do you want, do you want any children, what is your favorite ice cream topping, do you believe that healthcare should be affordable for all, who did you vote for in the last election?

  Those were all questions that ran through my mind every time I sat down with a new date. Many more issues piled up, too, but I couldn’t start off like that while just getting to know him.

  Next time I went on a blind date, maybe I’d have him fill out a questionnaire first.

  I tapped the table with a finger as he droned on about what he did and how much money he made, and wondered what kind of stationery I would use for that questionnaire. Or would it be electronic? I wasn’t sure if I wanted to go fully digital, even though I could probably figure out exactly how to do that and even have it populate a database I could query. It was what I did, after all. Hmm, maybe an app would be best for this. Yes. There were dating apps all over the place, but what if there was an app that got you through those awkward dates? Recorded answers to the questions that were going to be complete hell nos. That way, more people like me wouldn’t have to sit drinking vodka gimlets, pretending to listen when their dates droned on about how their meal partners wouldn’t understand but they’d give it a try.

  That was fine, some guys got nervous and started to talk like women weren’t worth much in the brain department. I would figure this out.

  Or I would stress myself out while thinking about it. This wasn’t the worst first date I had been on in the past six months, so I figured I’d make the most of it.

  “That’s so interesting,” I lied. Hell, my heart wasn’t in this, and even though the light didn’t dim in his eyes, I still felt like a heel. I needed to at least seem interested when I spoke to him. It wasn’t his fault that I’d had a terrible day at work.

  “Enough about me for now,” Andy said, smiling. “What about you?” He was quite handsome. Maybe I was actively looking for negatives. The fact that he had asked me what I did and wanted to know more about it had to mean something, didn’t it?

  “I’m a software quality insurance engineer.”

  “So, you develop software?”

  I shook my head at the common misconception. “No, I test it against the business specifications. Make sure it does everything that the company needs it to in the way it needs to be done. Look for those little things that the average person wouldn’t think to check. Everything that you see out there needs to be tested, and the code needs to be combed through. Someone needs to find the bugs before the public does. Before it can fail and possibly end up hurting the bottom line.”

  “Fascinating. So, you pretty much tell people what they did wrong.”

  I snorted, not exactly the hottest thing ever, but whatever. “Sometimes it sure does feel like that,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Though not always. My goal is to be able to work with my team, stay on target with deadlines, and figure things out rather than being the one to call things out all the time.” It didn’t always work out that way. I had no idea how it was going to work with Prior, though that wasn’t something I wanted to focus on right now because thinking about Prior sent me down bad thought paths.

  Mostly because I had been attracted to him from the get-go.

  The fact that he had a girlfriend, and I was working with him, meant that he was completely off-limits now, in many ways.

  Plus, there was just something about him that got under my skin and put my back up. And because of that, I acted like a total jerk.

  I didn’t like acting that way. I preferred to have true reasons for the things I did. Being confrontational because I was angry about something else meant that I was not acting in my own best interests—and being plain rude. And despite what others said, that wasn’t my favorite thing.

  “It’s good to have people like you around,” Andy said, smiling. “I mean, without you, we’d never know when we were doing something wrong. Though it must take a big man to be able to realize that he’s wrong. You know what I mean?”

  “Sometimes. It’s not always about being wrong. It’s about finding the bugs that they can’t see because they’re looking at things differently, or working on so many other things. You should always have a second set of eyes—or even a fifth set—on certain things. Everybody uses software products differently.”

  “Maybe. And maybe that’s too many cooks in the kitchen, you know?”

  “Perhaps. But sometimes you need all the help you can get.”

  “But maybe the guy doesn’t want to constantly hear that he’s wrong. Can’t make for the greatest work environment, can it?”

  That was the second time he placed a man in the developer position.

  Yes, the last few people I had worked with had been men, but that wasn’t always the case. I wasn’t going to touch on that subject though, because this was a date, and I didn’t need to get into office politics. I had enough of that at work as it was.

  And every time that I hung out with my friends, I was probably going to see Prior, and that would just bring more of that nonsense into every part of my life—not something I truly wanted to fixate on.

  “Anyway, enough about work,” he said casually, taking another sip of his drink. We had ordered a bit ago, but this place was notorious for being slow. It annoyed me from a sustainability and efficiency standpoint, but this was a good place for dates because there was less time shoveling food into your mouth, and more time to get to know one another. At least, usually.

  “Anyway, I’m thrilled that Myra set us up.”

  “How do you know Myra anyway?” he asked.

  “We’ve been friends for a while now. She grew up with one of my college friends, and we all sort of clicked.”

  “I see. Well, Myra does come from good stock, so any friend of hers is a friend of mine.”

  Stock. As in breeding. This was going to be a fun night.

  “Oh?” I asked, trying not to sound like I wanted to hit him.

  “You know how it is. Families beget families and all that. Her family’s been after her to marry for a while. It’s too bad that she and I never clicked. It would have been good for everybody if we had found our way to be with one another. But we just didn’t suit.”

  And now I was second best? The consolation prize? Who exactly did he think I was? What family did
he think I came from?

  He was sorely mistaken if he thought I ran in the same circles that Myra and Hazel did. My circles weren’t even in the same stratosphere as theirs. Mine were more in line with Dakota’s background—not that my friends had ever once made me think or feel like I was less because I didn’t come from money.

  I hadn’t come from anything. No, I came from pain, and heartache, and bruises, and screams.

  I had come from a trailer park that’d tried its best to fit into every stereotype you could think of. I hadn’t come from the same family ties that Myra and Hazel did. And it never once bothered me that I hadn’t. However, I had a feeling if the man in front of me ever found out where I really came from, he wouldn’t be sitting here in front of me.

  I had the nice shoes, the good clothes with the perfect cuts to showcase the curves that I wanted or the business that I needed to do. I knew how to dress to impress, and I used my brain to get where I was.

  And maybe my attitude, as well. I didn’t care that people called me a bitch. I got where I was because I worked hard and I didn’t take any shit. Nor did I let closed doors stop me.

  I went to school, got scholarships, got a fantastic fucking degree. And then I got one of the highest paying jobs in my field. I wanted more, and I would get it. That was all part of my life plan.

  However, another part of that should be sitting in front of me right now.

  Because despite all evidence to the contrary, I didn’t like being alone.

  I wanted a husband. I wanted a family. I wanted the next stage for the woman who had it all.

  However, I had a feeling that Andy was not going to be a part of that.

  So that meant I was over five when it came to blind date tries.

  Just like I was oh-for-countless-other-times when it came to dating in general.

  I shouldn’t be surprised.

  We were all trying to find men that suited us, but maybe the problem with our whole pact was that we didn’t know any men that suited us personally. So, how could we find men that suited our friends?

  Maybe I was thinking too hard and being too cynical about everything.