Rebounding (12 page)

“Oh, no,” I say, chuckling. “I think the name gives it away.”

I dry off my hands, looking around the large kitchen for the pantry. It’s in the corner. I open the door, scanning the shelves for potatoes.

“Curious though, that he wanted to help,” Stephanie’s voice stretches over the kitchen. “He must like having you around.”

I reach for a hefty bag of potatoes, lifting it off the shelf. “You think so?”

“Yeah, I do. It makes me happy you’re here.”

“Well I’m glad to be here.”

“By the way, Max told me you were the one who found him that night in the alley. I want to thank you for saving his life. There are no words for how much that means.”

I turn around, touched by her words. “Believe me, he’s repaying me tenfold.”

Stephanie shakes her head. “Doesn’t compare.” Her eyes turn glassy, taking me by surprise. “Oh, look! I need to stop before I start crying. I just wanted to let you know how grateful I am, and I haven’t told Trevor yet, but I know he’ll be grateful as well. That’s all.”

“You don’t need to tell him. It’s no big deal—”

“Yes, I do, and yes, it is,” she says sternly. Then she takes a deep breath, and fans her face with her hands. “I just needed to get that out. We should get to work before I have a meltdown.”

It’s easy to see how much Stephanie loves Max, and I’m glad that he has her in his life. He doesn’t seem to have many friends, but the ones he does have give me the impression that they’d take a bullet for him. That kind of friendship doesn’t come easy.

We turn on some music, then go to work preparing the food. While I’m peeling the potatoes, I think about Max’s reaction again. I feel myself becoming more attached to the idea that something might happen between us, wondering if there’s a chance. The thought both excites and scares me at the same time. Was Lucas right about him being a rebound? I really hope that’s not the case, but even I suspected I might be latching onto him. If I had a job and friends already, I could judge the situation unbiased—wait, actually that’s not a bad approach. I’ll simply leave my feelings on pause for now, but as soon as I get my life together here, I’ll reevaluate. Because I can’t just press the stop button. Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to.

It’s not that bad of a plan. A good, healthy, possibly even Lucas-approved plan.

Later, over dinner, Stephanie brings up work related things, and it catches my attention. Max tries to steer the conversation in a different direction. “Let’s save it for the office,” he tells her, but not before she lets it slip that he’s the owner of one of the most prestigious online news aggregators in the city. The country even, she says with pride.

“You didn’t know Max owns the
Gritty Voice
?” Stephanie asks me, and I catch Max scowling for some reason.

Oh my gosh. They’re all writers! How have I lived here this long without knowing what they did for a living? It’s not like me to miss something so blatantly obvious.

“No, I didn’t,” I say, unable to stamp down my enthusiasm. “Just the other day, this woman told me I should apply there. She called it a huge success with the millennial crowd.”

“What an idea!” Stephanie says, leaning forward in her seat. “You
should
apply there, Charlotte. You’d fit right in. Hey, and it doesn’t hurt to know the boss.”

“That would be amazing!”

Max is sitting across from me, looking a little upset, making me wonder if he doesn’t approve. “Would you consider it?” I ask him tentatively.

He looks caught off guard, as if he’s not sure how to respond. To Stephanie, he says, “The receptionist job you’re thinking of was already filled. Briggs hired someone yesterday afternoon.”

“So? Find her a different position,” Stephanie counters back. “It’s not as if you don’t have the authority.”

Before he can reply to that, I speak up first. “I would work my ass off for your company, Max. You can pay me minimum wage if you want. Better yet, make me an intern. I’ll prove myself before you start paying me. You have to give me a chance—oh, and my best friend has a story. A
big
story. I could get you the exclusive rights.”

Stephanie’s eyes widen at that part. “What kind of story?”

“Well…” I look around the dining room, absurdly, because it’s not as if anyone can overhear us. “Don’t mention this to anyone, but her boyfriend has tracked down an ancient shipwreck carrying a cargo that’s value is estimated in the billions.”

Mentioning Wesley’s treasure is a grasp at straws. I have no idea whether or not he would allow me that kind of access, but I’d like to think my friendship with him and Doll means something. If this convinces Max to hire me, I wouldn’t be averse to begging and pleading Wesley for those exclusive rights.

“What ship?” Max asks, sounding skeptical. As far as I’m concerned, at least he’s interested.

“The
Flor de la Mar.”

Trevor hits the table, rattling the dishes. “Bullshit.”

I can’t help but appreciate that I have his attention now too, even if he doesn’t believe me. He recognizes the name and the history that’s attached to it. That’s all that matters.

“I swear it’s true.” I lean back in my seat, maybe a tad too arrogantly. “I could get you everything. Footage, interviews, you name it.”

Doll would roast me alive if she heard this, but I’ll worry about that later.

“Did you mention this in your other interview?” Max asks me, still looking unconvinced.

“They didn’t give me the chance. I didn’t even make it to the interviewing part before they threw me out on my ass in favor of some kid who had connections within the company.”

Stephanie shakes her head sympathetically. “How terrible.”

Trevor sputters, setting down his glass of iced tea. “Really, Steph? You do realize you’re asking Max to use
his
power to get her the job, don’t you?”

“That’s different,” she replies stiffly.

“How so?”

She doesn’t answer him, instead choosing to stuff her mouth with a bite of mashed potatoes. He just shakes his head at her.

I’m starting to worry that this conversation may end in a resounding no, and I don’t think I could bear hearing another one of those. “Please, Max. If you give me a chance, I swear you won’t regret it.”

His dark brown eyes pierce into mine. We hold each other’s gaze for what feels like the longest time. “Okay,” he says, giving in. “I suppose we can try it out on a temporary basis—hey!”

As soon as I hear the word
okay
, I rush around the table, unable to contain my excitement.

“Cut it out! Rule Number 1! You’re not abiding by Rule Number 1!”

“Thank you! Thank you!” I say, still hugging him.

“You gave her those stupid rules, too?” Stephanie asks.

Despite his hesitation, I feel Max’s arms enfold me for the very briefest of moments. “You’re welcome, kid. Now get
off
me.”

I let go of Max, noticing a flash of amusement in his eyes. Maybe he isn’t so repelled by hugs after all. Even with all the fuss, I suspect he secretly enjoyed that.

“So when do I start?”

“Monday will do fine.”

I sit back down, still floating on my pleasure cloud. I have a job. A real, honest to goodness
job
.

“You’re gonna love it there,” Stephanie adds, sounding just as excited as me. “You’ll learn a lot from Briggs. He’s an amazing editor. Personally, I think Max runs the place better than anyone, but these days, he does most of his work from home.” She tilts her head as if she’s not in agreement with that decision, but no one comments on it. “You’ll have the best of both worlds though. You’ll have Briggs and the rest of the staff during the day, and if you have any questions that go unanswered, you can always bring them to one of us while you’re at home.”

It occurs to me that will be the only downside—I’ll have fewer opportunities to see Max now that I’ll be gone most of every day. It makes me wonder why he allows his editor to run his website. He should be there running it. Oh well. I can always do as Stephanie suggested. If I have to, I’ll invent questions to ask him to see him more often.

“You sound way too pepped up about this, Steph,” Trevor comments, eyeing his girlfriend closely.

She frowns at first, and then she leans close to his ear, whispering something.

“Really?” he asks her, appearing genuinely surprised. She nods, confirming his question. Then Trevor looks at me, a little dazed, making me wish I knew what they were talking about.

“Anyway,” she continues, steering her attention back to me. “I’ll swing by on Monday just to make sure you get settled in nicely.”

“That would be great. Oh geez—what should I wear?”

Max chuckles at this. “I’m sure you’ll look fine in whatever you choose.”

Hearing his vote of confidence is reassuring.

Once we’re all finished eating, the guys take charge of clearing the table. Max disappears into the kitchen. Trevor lags behind him, giving me a funny look, and I’m not sure what to make of it.

“Are you okay?”

He looks down at his feet and back at me again. If I’m not imagining things, he seems nervous, which is really strange coming from him. He’s usually so annoyingly sure of himself, in the not giving a damn what anyone else thinks of him kind of way.

Then, unexpectedly, he throws his arms around me and mutters a raspy, “Thank you,” before heading out of the room.

I look at Stephanie. “Translation please?”

“He’s bad at expressing emotions. I told him about you and Max…how the two of you met.”

The whispering. Now it makes sense. That was kinda sweet, actually. Trevor looked sincere as he hugged me, his gratitude palpable. “I wouldn’t have expected that from him,” I muse aloud.

“Enjoy it while it lasts,” she advises me. “Most likely by tomorrow, he’ll be his normal, asinine self.”

“Good to know.”

SIXTEEN

Char

All of my enthusiasm disappears the moment I walk into the
Gritty Voice
office. The receptionist greets me at the front desk. She’s familiar to me in an indistinct way, and I scramble to figure out how I know her.

“Welcome. How may I help you, dear?” Her sultry voice washes over me like battery acid. Oh, no. Just no.

Lingerie girl.

I’m trying to speak, but all I can see are the many, many condoms spilling out of her purse. I picture her in her sexy negligee, the same strawberry blonde hair, the same catlike eyes. It all adds up too perfectly.

I instantly know that I hate this girl.

“Can I help you?” she asks again, looking concerned. She doesn’t recognize me. Or if she does, she’s not letting on.

“Um, yes.” I try to pull myself together and focus on what I’m here for. “I’m Charlotte Hart. This is my first day of work. I’m supposed to check in with the editor.”

“That’s right, I heard you were coming in today!” She beams, holding out her hand. “I’m Taylor Patterson. It’s nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

I shake her hand, silently listing all the things I hate about her.

1. Her name.
   
2. Her voice.
   
3. Her perfectly curled hair.
   
4. Her eyelashes that seem to have no end.
   
5. The fitted pantsuit she’s wearing that shows off her cleavage.
   

Honestly. I bet if I peeked inside her purse right now, I’d find a plethora of contraception. It’s like she’s prepared for Max to walk in at a moment’s notice.

“There’s a few forms we need you to fill out,” she says, handing me a clipboard with paperwork attached. “Tax documents and safety procedures—I’m sure you know the drill. After you’re done, I’ll show you around and introduce you to the staff. Everyone’s
really
excited to meet you.”

1. Her smile.
   
2. The nice act that’s so clearly fake.
   
3. These forms. Because she touched them.
   

I take a seat in the waiting area, looking around. This place is unlike anything I was expecting. When I think of a newsroom, I picture lots of cubicles, people shouting on the telephone, computers, drawing boards, and so on.

This is the opposite.

The walls are painted in earthy hues, the back one attached to a cascading waterfall. Several sofas and chairs are scattered throughout the center of the room, like in a hotel lobby. People (I’m assuming writers) are lounging on them, their laptops perched lazily in their laps, reminding me of the way Trevor works. They all have headphones plugged in their ears, and they’re not dressed up like Taylor or me. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think they were sitting in their living rooms at home, no cares in the world.

Once I finish filling out the required paperwork, Taylor escorts me to the back of the building. On the way there, we pass by a room filled with camera equipment, spotlights, softboxes, and a green screen. Just before they shut the door, I see an Asian woman sit behind a desk in front of the green screen. I didn’t realize they film here as well.

The plaque on the next door reads “Jason Briggs,
Editor in Chief
.”

“The new hire is here!” Taylor calls out, knocking on the door before she opens it. She motions me in. “You’ll like Briggs. He’s a sweetheart. He’ll explain your responsibilities and show you the ropes. By the way, it was nice to meet you, Charlotte.”

“You as well.”
Not.

I step inside, then Taylor closes the door behind me.

The first thing I notice is that there are a shit-ton of books everywhere. Piled on top of the mahogany desk, laid out on the floor, stacked on shelves, stacked on the windowsill—the list goes on and on. The room is dark and smells stale, but in a very studious, library way. This guy clearly works hard at his job.

“Take a seat, Miss Hart. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

He barely looks up, too busy on a phone call to spare me much attention. I sit down in one of the two leather chairs behind his desk. Nothing about this place is turning out to be as I expected, the editor of the
Gritty Voice
included. He’s young, extremely good looking, with short blonde hair and an athletic build. He appears better suited to a soccer field than inside this office.

“Yes, that’s right…okay, thank you. Bye.” He hangs up the phone. “Fucking ad companies. What a nightmare.” Then, remembering I’m in the room, he looks up at me with an apologetic smile. “Sorry to keep you waiting.”

“It’s fine.”

He stands up to reach over his desk, holding out his hand. “I’m Jason—or Briggs. You can call me either one.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reply politely. He has a firm grip to his handshake.

Briggs sits back down. “It seems you come in high regard, Miss Hart. When I explained to Max that our internship positions were already filled, he
demanded
that I either fire someone or create a new position for you.”

My cheeks immediately turn hot. “Please tell me you chose the second option.”

He chuckles. “Don’t worry; no one lost their job on your behalf.”

The tension leaves my chest. “I’m surprised he went to all that trouble. To be honest, Max was reluctant to let me work for him.”

“Really?” he asks, a note of surprise in his voice. “I thought for sure when he called, that he—never mind. First rule of journalism. Never—”

“Assume,” I finish for him with a smile. “Because it makes an ass of you and me.”

He laughs, revealing a set of charming dimples in the sides of his cheeks. “It surprised me too. Max
never
gets involved with hiring. Anyway, he said you must start right away, and that we all need to make you feel welcome.”

Hearing that makes my heart swell, especially because I know Max wasn’t too eager to give me this chance. At the same time, it makes me feel slightly embarrassed. I want people to think I deserve to be here. I try to remind myself people get jobs based on connections all the time, but it still doesn’t sit well in my stomach. I guess I’ll just have to work really hard to prove I deserve it.

Briggs picks up a piece of paper—my résumé, by the looks of it—and scans it from top to bottom. “It sounds like you’re the perfect candidate, Miss Hart. Other than professional experience, you’re qualifications are exactly what we look for. How did Max find you anyway?”

“Oh—we’re friends.” I swallow. I’m not sure why, but I don’t want to admit Max is also my temporary roommate. It’s already bad enough that everyone will know I’m friends with their boss’s boss.

“You should take that as a compliment then. The guy has never had many close friends, especially ones he creates positions for. Not as long as I’ve known him anyway.”

“People keep saying that about him.”

By the way everyone talks, it’s like they think Max is a three-horned monster or something. I get that he’s closed off, but I don’t believe he’s impenetrable. Seeing the side he showed me at the hospital the other day proves to me that there’s a lot more to him than meets the eye. If they could only see what I see, they’d know that they’re missing out on a beautiful human being.

Briggs leans back in his chair and says, “I’ve known Max since his business started out as his hobby. He’s a great boss, but he’s definitely not the approachable type. Some people find him intimidating.”

“I can see why they’d think so.”

“He’s a good guy though, and if he wants you here, then I know it’s a good decision.”

“I swore to him I’d prove myself to be a valuable asset. You won’t regret hiring me.”

“I’m sure you’ll do great. We’re kind of a close-knit family. For many of us, it’s a second home. Now, let’s go over your responsibilities.”

Briggs takes the next hour showing me where everything is, and what’s expected of me. Since I’m pretty much on the bottom of the totem pole, it’s not long before I figure out that I’m the official gopher of the office—a title that is perfectly fine by me. My tasks include filing paperwork, setting up appointments, directing incoming emails, and assisting the reporters with whatever they need.

It’s complete bliss.

I’m so happy to be working, Briggs could’ve told me to make lattés all day, and I would’ve been fine with that too. The only downside is that I have to work closely with Taylor, and her likability is getting on my damn nerves. I’m running out of things to hate about her, which is another thing I hate about her.

Stephanie calls to check in on me around midday to tell me she won’t make it in to see me. “Why not?” I ask, a little disappointed.

“Things came up…pressing situation.” Her voice is fuzzy, going in and out.

“Are you in your car?”

“Yeah…I’ll come in and see you tomorrow.”

“Okay,” I say, barely able to hear her at his point. “I’ll talk to you later.”

By the end of the day, I feel mentally exhausted, but in a really great way. For the first time in months, I haven’t had time to think about all the things that have gone wrong in my life. I’m too busy focusing on what’s ahead of me to look behind.

“Hey, Char. How was your first day?”

I look up to see Taylor standing on the other side of my desk. The way she shortened my name bugs me. It’s what I prefer, but she doesn’t know me well enough to use it. Grabbing my purse, I give her a tight-lipped smile. “Good, thanks.”

“We should celebrate. Briggs and some of the other staff members are headed out for a bite to eat. Wanna join us?”

“Maybe another time.”

“Okay. On Thursdays we go to the Tequila Room for half price margaritas and salsa dancing. You should come.”

“I’ll think about it, thanks.”

I slip past Taylor, trying to get to the elevator before she decides to walk out with me as well. Someone taps my shoulder as I hit the down button, and I wince, thinking it’s her behind me.

“Hart, how’d it go today?” The sound of Briggs’s voice relaxes me.

“Everyone was really nice. I like it here.” The elevator dings, and the two of us step inside.

“We kept you busy, that’s for sure.” He grins, showing his dimples again. “But you did great. I’m glad to have you here.”

“You have no idea how good it is to hear that.”

Pressing the lobby button, Briggs looks over his shoulder, eyeing me up and down—or did I just imagine that?

“You should come out with us on Thursday. We need to celebrate.”

“I was considering it.”

“Do you know salsa?”

“God, no,” I say, embarrassed. “I’d probably fall on my face.”

“No, you won’t. I’ll be there to catch you.” He turns around, giving me the smoldering look again. “See you tomorrow, Hart.”

“See you…tomorrow.”

It takes me a few dazed moments to remember to get out of the elevator after Briggs leaves. I’m still not entirely sure what happened back there.

Was my new boss
flirting
with me?

I think about it on the way home, wondering if I mistook friendliness for flirtation. This is the first time in my adult life I’ve ever been single. Maybe I’m not used to flirting? I snort at the thought. Even when Miles and I were together, guys still tried to hit on me. As long as they didn’t try anything more, I let it go at that. Sometimes I flirted back a little, all in the name of climbing the social ranks. It took a lot to become Charlotte Hart, president of Alpha Delta Pi, charming people over being one of the necessary qualities.

When I arrive at the house, the door is slightly ajar. I can hear yelling going on inside. I step inside, finding Max, Trevor, and Stephanie standing inside the living room. The three of them go quiet at my presence, all of them appearing tense.

An argument?

I carefully shut the door behind me. “Hi, guys.”

Max nods. Stephanie offers a weak smile. Trevor just crosses his arms, ignoring me.

Yep, definitely an argument.

And clearly one that doesn’t involve me.

I should give them some space, go straight up to my room, and mind my own business. But then I notice Max’s face. There’s a cut above his brow, the makings of a bruise right below it. The entire left side of his face is swollen and pink.

“What happened?” I ask, going straight to him. Minding my own business has never been a strength of mine. Besides, seeing him beat up and hurt reminds me of the night we met. It brings back some of the same fear too.

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Everything’s okay.” He eyes both Trevor and Stephanie, sending them a message.

It’s obvious everyone wants to keep me out of this. That stings, but I need to respect their boundaries. I’m the newbie here. “Look, at least let me help you get cleaned up. You’re bleeding.”

At first I think Max will refuse my offer, so it surprises me when he nods in agreement.

“Where’s your first aid kit?”

“Upstairs bathroom.”

We venture up there together. Behind us, Trevor lets out an exasperated breath, making me think he wasn’t finished with whatever he’d been saying. That could be why Max agreed to come with me, to get out of the hornet’s nest, so to speak.