Page 7 of The Attack Zone
Stacey: Fine. Let’s extend our meeting tomorrow an extra thirty minutes so we can make a plan for how we’re going to do this.
Mitchell: Sounds good. I’ll see you tomorrow.
I let out a sigh and shake my head in an attempt to tune back into my work. I have a lot to get finished today, and I can’t let Mitchell derail me like he has so many other days. It’s like as soon as I have a meeting on the books with him or I know I’m going to see him with our mutual friends, I can’t focus on anything else. Hazel thinks it’s because he’s hot. Which he is. I won’t deny that he is, quite frankly, the hottest man I’ve ever seen. But as soon as we interact, what I consider to be mild attraction turns to severe annoyance oreven anger. We’re like oil and vinegar, which happens to be my least favorite salad dressing. I don’t have to like everyone, but it is very inconvenient that he’s best friends with my best friend’s fiancé.
The wedding is in just about six months. I’ve done far worse things than spend a few hours a week with an annoying hockey player. I can do this.
CHAPTER 4
MITCH
THE NEXT DAY
Ijust boarded the elevator of Stacey’s office building, and my hands are already clammy. I haven’t even seen what jaw-dropping outfit she’s wearing today, and my heart is already beating a bit faster just knowing I’m about to be in the same room as her. The elevator dings when I’ve reached her floor, and I have to coax myself through the doors and down the hall.
Get your shit together, Greggs,I say to myself before raising my fist to knock on her door.
I tentatively knock three times and wait for her to appear in the doorway. Instead, I hear her holler, “Come on in, Mitchell!”
I hate when she uses my full first name. Well, I hate when anyone does, so it’s not really her fault. It’s just that I always seem to hear it in my mother’s voice when people say it. But I’m slightly annoyed when I swing the door open andstumble through the entrance to her office. I was right to be concerned about my reaction to her outfit. She’s wearing a stunning dress that shows off her chest perfectly without being unprofessional, and she has these insane heels on that make her legs look even longer and smoother than normal. My mouth goes dry.
“I’m just wrapping something up,” she says. “Please, take a seat.”
She’s being weirdly formal for someone who says she hates my guts, but I guess I’ll take that over outright hostility. Especially since I’m still reeling from seeing her. I try to sit across the desk from her, but change seating positions three times, unsure of what to do with my hands.
“Alright, I’m ready,” she says.
“Hey, love,” I say with a smile, in a stupid attempt to disarm her.
“Don’t call me that,” she says with a snarl.
“I’ll stop calling you ‘love’ if you stop calling me Mitchell,” I say.
“But that’s your name,” she says, pretending to be confused. But we’ve had this conversation too many times for her to actually be confused. She does this to get to me.
“Call me Mitch. Greggs. Anything but Mitchell,” I say.
“Anything?” She has a sneaky look in her eye, and I immediately regret my words.
“Don’t push it,” I say.
She laughs.
She actually laughs.
What am I supposed to do with that?
“Let’s get started,” I say with far too much oomph and professionalism.
It was the wrong thing to say and the wrong way to say it because she’s clearly taken aback. And just when I got her to let her guard down for the first time in, well, forever.
Goddammit, Greggs.
“I mean, we just have a lot of ground to cover today, with the wedding and all,” I say softly in an attempt to recover.
“Yes, the wedding. Do you want to start there or withRebounds for Rescues?”
“I don’t thinkReboundswill take too long, we just have a few final decisions to make, right?”