Page 37

And to think, most women love the town car.
“No. I mean,Iwill drive you home. And forget thelet. It’s happening. Come on.”
I start toward the elevators. Collins follows, but I’m not entirely convinced it’s not because they’re the easier exit.
At least she’s not mad enough to tackle fifty-five flights of stairs.
As soon as we step inside the elevator, she says, “I’m taking the subway home.”
“Great. I haven’t taken public transportation in … ever. Been meaning to try it.”
Collins crosses her arms. Her gaze is focused straight ahead, watching the doors slide shut. “What about your car?”
“I’ll come back here and get it after.”
“That’s ridiculous. And wasteful.”
“Eh, you’ve called me worse.”
The part of Collins’s lips that I can see press tightly together. But I’m pretty sure it’s because she’s restraining a smile, not increasingly incensed. It could be a little of both though.
“I don’t want special treatment, Kit. That’s the only way this is going to work.”
“You’re my only assistant, Collins. Of course I’m going to treat you differently from every other damn employee. None of them stayed late to help me.”
“I said I liked an idea you’d already come up with. I hardly played a pivotal role.”
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?” She turns to face me, one eyebrow raised in challenge.
“Don’t diminish yourself. You’re Collins fucking Tate. Act like it.”
“Wow. If this whole future-CEO thing doesn’t pan out, consider a future in motivational thinking.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m serious.”
“I know you are.” After a beat, she adds, “Thanks.”
“A complimentanda thank-you in the same day? Today might be the best day of my life.”
Collins exhales, but this time, I do catch the flash of a smile. “I live in Brooklyn.”
“So?”
“So, that’s way out of your?—”
“I don’t care, Collins.”
I really don’t. I’m greedy when it comes to her company. She could be commuting from Connecticut, and I wouldn’t be deterred.
Collins seems to sense my certainty. Or maybe she’s just too tired to keep arguing with me. “Fine.”
I grin.
And the elevator stops. Which is normal. But the doors not opening and the number being stuck at13? That’s not normal.
Collins’s eyes widen when she realizes the same thing. “Is this a joke?” she asks, each syllable an octave higher as the elevator continues to not move. She turns to me. “Did you do this?”