Page 105 of Tasty Cherry
She washes her hands and presses cool water under her eyes. “I don’t think so. Did you know he and Sebastian grew up together? That’s how he got the job. He thinks nobody can touch him.”
That explains things. “They could go over Sebastian to Havannah.”
“Mav doesn’t think so. Not with her so close to having a baby.”
I lean against the counter. “Are you going to keep seeing him?”
She shrugs. “I don’t want to. But then he knocks on my door, and I let him in.”
I get that, too. I doubt I’d be able to say no to Sebastian.
We’re about to head back to the table when I hold out a hand to stop her. “What do you think Ilsa’s game is, bringing this up in front of Suze and Jessie?”
“She wants to win. The more we look bad, the more likely she’ll get chosen for event manager. They’ll never pick Mav, and he doesn’t even want it. If I’m a hopeless whore, then it’s just you and Owen she has to beat. Owen doesn’t have a competitive bone in his body.”
“So then it’s just me.”
“She’ll come after you next, I bet.” She hesitates. “Are you still seeing Sebastian, or was that a fling?”
I consider saying we’re done, or even saying we only see each other off site. But it’s all a lie.
“Never mind,” she says. “It’s clear you are. Don’t let Ilsa find out. Because once she knows, everybody knows.”
She opens the door and holds it for me.
I walk out in a daze.
Sebastian and I have to be more careful.
34
SEBASTIAN
Mila suggests we hold off until the weekend to see each other after her lunch with HR. She feels like they’re watching her.
I regularly check on Maverick in the kitchen, but he’s getting along with everyone, including Chef Monique.
Unless you count Brooklyn, who stays as far from him as possible. I don’t blame her. He’s screwing everything that moves, and both Zara and Cristal threatened to quit when they found out that he’s also hooked up with another woman from laundry.
He’s got to be doing a new one every day. Sometimes I try to sit down and do the Maverick math, and it doesn’t add up.
Maybe he’s the one with a dick made of gold.
By the time Saturday rolls around, I’m more than ready for time with Mila. I tell Arya we’ll stay in the downstairs master suite, so she has the upstairs without worrying about bumping into us.
Mila is shy and adorable, walking in with her overnight bag. Alfalfa bounds up to her like a Labrador puppy and not an overfed eight-year-old, but Mila kneels down to give her plenty of attention.
Watching the two of them together does funny things to my heart. Despite everything Mila told me about her HR lunch, and her fear that Ilsa would discover us and ruin her chance at the event manager spot, I feel confident everything will work out.
Mila walks toward me, Alfalfa devotedly trotting alongside. “I’ve missed you,” she says.
I take her bag and lead her to the downstairs bedroom. “You don’t know how many times I wracked my brains for excuses to go into HR to get a glimpse of you.”
“Maybe next week I’ll be more accessible, and not closed up with four gossipy women.”
Except then we might take bigger risks.
Footsteps bound down the stairs. I drop Mila’s bag inside the door of the bedroom.