Page 1 of Dearly Unbeloved (Spicy in Seattle #3)

ROSE

I ’m going to kill my roommate.

My knuckles are white, gripping the papers I went out of my way to have printed—because who has a printer at home anymore—ahead of my job review.

Sure, I could’ve just shown up with the stats I painstakingly put together, outlining my time at SEALAB on my laptop or tablet, but I’m trying to look as professional as possible.

It’s hard to do that with Sierra’s scribbles all over the back of the paper.

She’s infuriating. How many times have I asked her nicely (ish) not to write the answers to the stupid radio quiz she’s obsessed with on my shit?

And how many times has she blatantly ignored me and grabbed whatever paper was closest?

This is the last thing I need right now.

I rub the ink helplessly with my thumb. God forbid Sierra have the foresight to grab an erasable pen from the penholder on the kitchen counter.

“Rose? Are you ready?” Lisa, my boss, is smiling at me from her office doorway .

Lisa’s office is… homey. Like the kind of soft, comfy living room I thought only existed in sitcoms growing up, because my parents wouldn’t know homey if it slapped them in the face.

She has a scuffed oak desk with a white leather office chair, but she sits on the squishy gray sectional. I look between the couch and her desk.

“I like to keep reviews informal,” Lisa says, patting the seat beside her. “We’re just catching up.”

I perch on the edge of the couch, awkwardly crossing my legs at the ankles. Informal . I didn’t prepare for informal. “That sounds perfect.” The lie is like lead on my tongue.

It’s been a little over a year and a half since I dropped out of med school, crushing my parents’ dreams of having a doctor for a daughter.

In school, I always preferred the practical work, and after an internship at SEALAB, an innovative lab focused on researching low-cost solutions for infectious diseases, I fell in love with the work and the atmosphere.

I’ve never been a people person, and the lab is the perfect place for me to put my head down and work on my own.

I don’t have the fancy title my parents have been dreaming of since I first showed an interest in science when I was three, but I’ve never been more professionally content. And at least I’m not wasting the double major in biology and chemistry I spent four years exhausting myself over.

“I can’t believe you’ve been with us for eighteen months already! Time really flies, doesn’t it? How are you finding things?” Lisa asks, and I take a deep breath as I smooth the papers over my lap, scribbled side down .

The job is great. The money is… fine. It could be worse, but Seattle isn’t a cheap city, and I’m desperate to get a place of my own.

I love my apartment, but the company is less than ideal.

My parents kicked me out when I left med school, and I thought I’d struck gold when my sister told me her assistant, Sierra, was looking for a roommate.

In reality, it’s been fucking awful. Sierra is impossible to live with, and I need to get out.

But for that, I need a raise, which means I need a promotion. And I just so happen to know that one of the team supervisors is leaving Seattle next year. Though her job hasn’t officially been posted, everyone is talking about it. I may not be the chattiest, but I listen.

SEALAB favors internal candidates, and based on when she’s leaving, it looks like they’ll be hiring to fill her job in around three months. Which means if I want the job—and god, I want it—I have to put my best foot forward now.

Lisa listens as I talk her through my first eighteen months, the highs, the lows, and the steps I’ve taken to work past them.

The proof is in the stats: I’ve excelled at SEALAB.

I know I’m the most efficient person on the team.

I know I’m the most dedicated. I regularly work unpaid overtime without being asked, and I’m always the first one in the lab.

If anyone needs someone to step in and cover them, I’m there.

When new people join the team, I spend time with them, giving them tips and tricks.

I even stay late every time the team has after-work drinks planned, so they can leave early.

Of course, I could always do more, but my results speak for themselves.

“Wow, Rose. What a year and a half you’ve had,” she says with a wide smile.

Lisa has to be around my mom’s age, but her smile is a lot softer.

Probably because my mom is surrounded by sycophants who act like getting older is the worst thing in the world, so she’s spent a small fortune to make sure she doesn’t look a day over forty.

My mom is beautiful, and I love her, but sometimes I wish I’d gotten to know my parents before their business took off.

Back when they were just Alex and Lilia Cannon, living in a rundown two-bedroom house in Marysville comfortably, but not excessively.

But it’s easy to think that way when you’ve grown up as privileged as I have—I’ve never wanted for anything.

My parents might not have given out much love, but I’ve had a more comfortable life than most.

“Thanks, Lisa. I’ve really enjoyed all the projects we’ve worked on,” I say, setting the papers down on my lap again. “I’ve learned a lot and really pushed myself.”

“I can tell. You’re a real asset to the team, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. We appreciate all the hard work you’ve put in.”

Her smile is warm and genuine, pushing me to sit up straighter, and untangling some of the what if I’m not good enough? knots in my chest. Of course I’m good enough. I’m Rose Charlotte Cannon, and my parents might not have hugged me growing up, but they taught me to succeed. I’ve got this.

“I’ve been happy to do it,” I reply, projecting as much confidence as I can.

“Glad to hear it. Now, usually in reviews, this is when we talk about things you’d like to work on over the next year.

You included a lot of that in your recap, and I think everything you’re working toward is achievable.

It sounds like you have a good idea of how to get there, but let me know if you need help with anything.

Is there anything else you’d like to work toward?

I know we talked about us helping you get your master’s if that was something you wanted to do.

Generally, that’s a benefit we reserve for two years of service, but given how dedicated you’ve been this year, we can look at bringing that forward if it’s something you’d like to do. ”

Oh. I wasn’t expecting that. Getting my master’s is the next logical step in my education, but I don’t know if I’m ready to put myself through school again. I still wake up in a panic some days, thinking I’ve forgotten an assignment.

My hesitation must show, because understanding dawns on Lisa’s face. “There’s no rush to decide,” she assures me. “I just want you to know you have the option.”

“Thank you. I’ll definitely think about it.” I clear my throat. “Actually, there is something I wanted to talk about working toward.”

Lisa gestures for me to go on, her expression nothing short of encouraging, but the mention of going back to school has derailed me.

I take a deep breath. “I heard Kayleigh is going home to England next year and there’s going to be a supervisor position available. I’d love to be considered.”

The change on Lisa’s face is minute, but her brows lift a fraction, her eyes just slightly widening in surprise. It’s gone as soon as I notice it, but it’s enough for my stomach to sink.

“That is something we’re going to be looking at over the next couple of months. Though I must admit, I’m surprised you’re interested.” She doesn’t sound put off by the idea, at least.

“I hoped my work over the past year would show how dedicated I am.” I hug the papers to my chest. “I really love working here.”

“Oh, Rose. No one would doubt your dedication. You put in more hours than anyone else, even when you don’t need to. But there’s more to being in a supervisory position than the work side of things.”

I try not to show how confused I am, but my eyebrows pull together of their own accord. “Like what?”

Lisa’s lips twitch, and I get the feeling she’s trying not to laugh.

She leans forward with a reassuring smile.

“We’re a close-knit team here. As far as research labs go, we’re pretty small and, although we pride ourselves on our work, it’s also important to us to have a comfortable and friendly culture.

Most labs I’ve worked at over the years have been brutal, just work, work, work. It’s soul crushing.”

“Right. I’ve never felt uncomfortable here.” A new worry hits me at full force. “Oh no. Am I making people uncomfortable?”

“No, not at all,” Lisa replies quickly. Thank god. “But you’re not immersed in the team. I don’t think anyone here knows anything about you beyond your name and how hard you work. ”

“And that’s a problem?” I’m here to work. Why does anyone need to know anything beyond how good I am at my job?

“It’s not a problem, per se. But it is important for the team to feel like they know their supervisors.

Although you know nothing is mandatory, we do look for supervisors to come to our team lunches and drinks, and when we do family days.

You’re so focused when you’re working, and you eat lunch alone, so no one ever gets the chance to get to know you,” Lisa explains, and, while she’s not wrong, I hadn’t realized I was supposed to be socializing here.

“I thought it was more important to stay focused and get my work done,” I reply slowly.

“Of course we want everyone to get their work done, but there is a social aspect to the job, too, especially in a supervisor position. You’ve been here for over a year, and I know the team is curious about who you are outside of work.

We like celebrating together—big life events, like Angie getting engaged last year. Things like that, you know?”

Any hope of getting this promotion fades as her words sink in. I’m a hard worker, I’m good at doing what I’m told and going above and beyond in a work capacity. But I’m not good with people, and it’s not like I’ve got anything like Angie’s engagement to share anyway.

My older siblings got all the social skills in our family; there were none left by the time I came along.

My brother, Xander, is the picture of charisma, a miniature version of our dad—but less of a dick.

My sister, Jazz, is an extrovert to the extreme.

She thrives on being around people and can strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. And then there’s me.

I tried to mimic other people in school, watching them form friendships and connections, and I did a good job of faking it, but it’s never come naturally to me. And the older I get, the more exhausting I find it.

Could I pretend long enough to get promoted? Maybe. What comes after, though? I don’t want to come to work every day and tire myself out by putting on a mask. But if that’s what it takes, maybe I’ll have to.

“The social side of things has never been my strong suit,” I admit, and Lisa nods, seemingly unsurprised.

“I understand. And it can be hard to push yourself out of your comfort zone with things like that, but it would be nice to get to know you, Rose.”

“Right. That’s definitely something I can work on.”

I wish I was doing something wrong professionally.

Not working fast enough? Work faster. Not doing enough?

Show up earlier. Not doing things perfectly?

Do better. Fixing a glaring personality issue that I’ve had since birth is significantly trickier.

But I’m not a quitter. And I don’t actually have to change anything; I just have to lie my ass off.

I paste a forced smile on my face, and while Lisa doesn’t look particularly optimistic, she looks somewhat reassured.

“Perfect. Well, I look forward to getting to know you better. We’re doing drinks after work on Friday if you’d be interested?”

Shit. “Oh, um, I’m actually going to Vegas this weekend, so I’m taking leave on Friday,” I say, cursing Jazz for booking a girls’ weekend, and for forcing me to come.

“That sounds fun. You’ll need to tell us all about it when you get back!” Lisa replies, leading me toward the door. Why does that sound like a threat? “Maybe next—are those the answers to this morning’s Monika and Cleo In the Morning quiz?”

I still as I realize I’m accidentally holding the papers answer-side out.

So much for professional. But Lisa looks more excited than disappointed.

“They are,” I confirm. Sierra is obsessed with the morning show and listens to it every day while she’s getting ready for work, but I don’t pay much attention, so I’m screwed if Lisa asks me about it.

“But they’re not mine.” Lisa’s face falls. Fuck. Why couldn’t I just pretend?

I mentally kick myself, and that’s the only thing to blame for what slips out of my mouth next: “They’re my fiancée’s. She loves Monika and Cleo.”

Lisa stops in her tracks, her face lighting up. “You’re engaged? Oh, congratulations, Rose! We had no idea.” Well, they wouldn’t, considering it’s a boldfaced lie. This is not the kind of pretending I had in mind. Shit.

“Sorry,” I offer with a feigned guilty look. “We’ve been keeping it quiet. Our families are both big wedding families, but we want something small. An elopement.” Why the fuck did I say that?

Lisa’s eyes widen. “Oh my god, is that why you’re going to Vegas this weekend?” I don’t know what in the world possesses me to nod, but I feel my head rising and falling before I can stop it. “That’s so exciting!”

Lisa leans against the doorframe and, like it or not, I’m in the lie now. “So, tell me all about her. What’s her name?”

“Sierra,” I answer before I can bite the word back. “Her name is Sierra Hayashi, and she’s… amazing.”

The lie tastes like acid on my tongue.