Page 15 of The Plus-One Deal
Verity had been frowning, but she nudged Ken and smiled. “An extra day or two wouldn’t be the worst thing.”
He kissed her nose. “True. They’ve got tennis courts here.”
Sunny’s damn jinx text flashed through my head, the one about us being stuck in a romcom.The work thing gets canceled and OMG! THEY KISS!
I turned to Conrad and felt my face redden.
OMGwas right.OMFG.
CHAPTER 6
CONRAD
Ihung up with a weight of dread in my gut. Claire was going to hate this. She’d been on edge all through dinner, though she’d hidden it well, and now she was twitching fit to jump out of her skin.
“We’re grounded,” she said, before I could tell her.
I tucked my phone away. “Yeah, for now. They’re not letting anyone out till the storm’s passed. But that doesn’t mean we can’t leave tomorrow. It might just be a few hours we end up delayed.”
“A few hours is enough to get stuck playing tennis.”
“That wouldn’t be the worst thing,” I said, taking her arm. I guided her across the lobby, toward the elevators. “Think of it this way: you can’t talk much, playing tennis. It’s a social activity, but not reallysocial. Not a whole lot of room for us to slip up.”
“That’s whatyouthink,” she sniffed. “You can tell when two people haven’t played doubles before. They don’t anticipate eachother. They don’t have, uh…” Claire snapped her fingers, trying to think of the word.
“Synergy?” I ventured.
“Yeah. Synergy. We won’t have that, and they’ll know we’re liars.”
“Or… they’ll just think we’re lousy at tennis.”
The elevator opened, and I hustled us on it. My head was already swirling with all the work I’d be missing. I had my twin acquisitions, my new campus opening, a huge recruitment push for new engineers. Then Joe had been texting with some weird HR problem, a contingent protesting peanut noodles in our staff café. Apparently, we couldn’t just take them off the menu. Particles might linger and travel home to kids — kids who might or might not have peanut allergies. Kids who might or might not even exist.
“You’re not listening,” said Claire.
I coughed. “Yes, I was.”
“Then, why did you press for five and not six?”
I scowled at the console. “I thought Ididpress for six.”
“I just told you, you didn’t.” Claire pressed it herself. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. But we can’t give up now. We need to keep this thing going.”
I nodded, half-listening. All this forpeanuts?Were they even real? The flour in the café was all made from rice. The chicken was seitan. The cheese was cashew. Maybe the peanuts were fake news as well. I’d have Joe look into that, and if not?—
Claire clapped her hands in my face. “Hey. Where’d you go?”
“Nowhere. I’m with you.” The elevator dinged for the fifth floor and we watched the doors open. They stood that way a few seconds, then they slid shut. We jerked up to the sixth floor, and I steadied Claire on her feet. She glared at me.
“I said, we need to keep this thing going.”
“By ‘this thing,’ you mean our loved-up charade?”
Claire winced at my tone, which was harsher than intended, colored all rough by my peanut frustration.
“Sorry,” she said. “You didn’t sign up for this. Or, wait. You did. What am I saying?Youwere the one?—”
“No, I know. We’ve got this.” I took her hands to calm her down, feeling guilty even as I did it. Claire had some “cheat codes” when she was freaking out, little distractions that helped still her nerves. Touch was one. Soft words were another. Lowering my voice so she had to be quiet and listen. It felt sneaky, manipulative, to use those tricks now. She was right to be nervous, right to be angry. But I needed her not to be, so I stroked her smooth palms. I’d deal with her, then I’d deal with my peanuts, then I’d get down to tackling myrealwork.