Page 91 of That First Date
“Careful, Marcus… your jealousy is showing with all these little comments you keep making.”
Slowly he lifts his pointer finger in the air, curling it toward his palm to summon me over to him. “Come here.”
My cell phone dings on my desk at the exact moment with a text.
I hang up the desk phone with Marc because I will not be summoned by anyone. Doesn’t he know anything about me by now?
Dean
I feel bad for him really. It’s only a matter of time before you put him through the same hell you’ve put me through.
I suck in a sharp breath as I read the message right before I click his contact and hit the block button.
This day is a fucking mess. When I got involved with Dean, I never expected any of this. He’s the first man to even linger around like this and what? Cause drama? This is exhibit B on why I don’t get too involved with men. Exhibit A is sitting at his desk right now.
This day makes me feel like a child on a seesaw. First I was down because of the epic hangover I woke up with. Then I was up in the air with the confidence I always have inside of me to gain control of the situation again and make Marc feel bad for being so dismissive of me yesterday. Every up has to go back down though, and these stupid text messages from Dean did that.
“Now, Avery,” Marc shouts from his office as he beckons me with his finger.
I force myself back up on the seesaw of my day. Lifting my head up and channeling the inner strength that I know I have in me. That I’ve always had.
“What?” I snap as I enter his office.
“Damn.” He shakes his head, grinning from ear to ear. “I made you come with just one finger. Imagine if I used two?”
The power. This man. Has over me.
I feel my resolve crumble at my feet.
Marc bites down on his bottom lip and I can’t help but wish it was my lip between his teeth. “You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”
My hands fall to my hips. “Are we done here? I have work to do.”
“Work doesn’t involve texting your boyfriend on my time.”
My blood boils like a bomb ticking inside of me that was waiting for the right time to detonate.
“You have some fucking nerve, Marc. That’s the second time in a matter of minutes that you made that snide comment about a ‘boyfriend.’” I raise my hand to make some air quotes. “I seem to recall thatyouasked me to help you with this.Youasked me to give up my summer and my social life to do this for you.” I flash him the diamond ring on my finger. “I’m wearingyourfucking engagement ring!”
His face remains stoic, staring at me as he scrubs his chin.
“I had an interesting phone call yesterday, Avery.”
“Oh, was that what triggered your blinding rage?”
“Yes,” he admits almost too quickly.
“Enlighten me.”
“Dean called here looking for his girlfriend… looking foryou.”
“And you should already know that I don’t have a boyfriend. I was very clear at the start of this that he and I were nothing more than a casual thing that I ended when this started.”
“He seemed pretty set on—”
I throw my hand in the air with a signal that says stop talking. “So instead of asking me– yourfiancé– you just listen to a stranger on the phone?” I don’t let him answer before I continue. “Yes. That nut case texted me this morning. I told him to stop contacting me. Then I texted the girls. Does that make you feel better?”
“No. I’d feel better if he didn’t contact my future wife all together.”