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“Right. And I'm sure the way you had her backed against the bar afterward was just a 'business consultation.'” His tone is dry as dust. “Really professional behavior.”
“We’ve already been over this. We cleared up a misunderstanding. That's all.”
“And now you’re so clear, I hear you've been almost human this week. Jenna mentioned you actually said 'please' when asking for coffee yesterday.”
I consider deflecting. But he's my oldest friend, and the only person who might understand why I've spent the last four days replaying every moment of Saturday night.
“The wrong number,” I say finally. “It wasn't fake. She accidentally gave me her mother's.”
Caleb blinks. “Her mother's? As in...”
“As in she transposed two digits. Their numbers are nearly identical.”
He stares at me for a long moment, then lets out a low whistle. “Well. That changes things.”
“No, it doesn’t.” I close my laptop with more force than necessary. “The acquisition proceeds as planned.”
“Obviously,” he says. “I meant it changes things between you and her.”
“There is no me and her.”
“Not yet.”
I give him a sharp look. “Not ever. She's the COO of acompany we're acquiring. Her role overlaps with Vicky's. She’ll be one of the first?—”
“Wait, wait, wait. Hold up there. Let me get all of this straight in my head—you find out she didn’t play you, she’s great at her job, and yet, you’ve decided you’re cutting her anyway? What the hell, Bennett?”
The words are like a finger poking my chest.
Her role overlaps with Vicky’s. Standard practice would be to keep them both during the handover, give it a month or two, then phase one out. But the thought of sitting across from her for the next two months… knowing what she feels like pressed against me… knowing I’ll have to fire her anyway… knowing more time will make it that much harder to want nothing, to feel nothing like I should...
That’s not operational efficiency. That’s a fucking liability.
Cutting her now skips all that.
Cleaner. Simpler.
Safer.
Which is exactly why I keep trying to do it.
Not for the company.
For me.
I can’t do my job if I’m sporting a hard on every time she so much as looks at me. She’s a distraction I can’t tolerate.
“She’ll land on her feet,” I finally say, like I’m still convincing myself. “She’s smart. Comes with a stellar reference from a major market leader.”
“God damn it, Bennett. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were scared of her.”
I glare at him. “I don’t get scared.”
“Of course not,” he says with a smirk. “Just like you don’t get off balance.”
Before I can formulate a response, there's a knock at the door.
Jenna steps in. “Sorry to interrupt, but you'll want to see this. Robert Carmichael just sent it over.”