Page 13 of Love.V2 (Occupational Hazards #2)

Tess

“To the agency strays!” Eric cheered. Our team filled the back of Willy’s, a bar near the office, as we raised our glasses.

In the middle of the peeling, fake leather seats, sticky floor, and dingy dart boards, I was riding on a high. National Canine Rescue had loved our pitch so much, they’d signed a contract on the spot. No next round. No other agencies to consider.

I was floating on a cloud.

“It was all Tess,” Dylan said, beaming. I wondered if anyone else noticed how his eyes turned soft whenever they looked at me, or was it just my imagination?

“You did your fair share of the work,” I told him, tucking my hair behind my ears.

Seeing Dylan still sent a lurch of dizzying emotions through me, but it had gotten easier to handle.

In reality, working with him over the past week had been fine…

more than fine. We were a good team, and every day being around him became just a bit more comfortable.

“Well, you nailed it. I mean, look at Henry!” Noel picked up one of the slides Eric had printed. It featured an image of a Bernese Mountain Dog with a barrel around its neck. Noel read the text. “Henry. Strong, calm, the one you call if your project needs a rescue. ”

“It’s true, man!” Aaron, a designer, clapped Henry on the back. “You’re the go-to when it’s crunch time.” Henry blushed.

“I’m dying over Victoria’s,” Meery squealed.

Dylan and I traded a glance over the heads of the Jinx team.

Icky Vicky’s had been the hardest to come up with, mostly because I’d struggled to find anything nice to say.

In the end, we’d landed on a picture of a manicured poodle.

“Alert, active, won’t rest until every detail is just right! ”

The little seed of my idea—describing Jinx as its own sort of “creative designer rescue”—had flourished once I’d explained it to Dylan.

Together, we’d developed a presentation that didn’t just focus on Jinx’s offerings or pricing, but on the heart of the agency: its people.

Just like the dogs at NCR, we all had our own backgrounds and talents, just waiting to be picked by the right owner… or in this case, client.

“Glass of red?” a server asked behind me.

“Here.” Dylan reached back to take the wine, setting it in front of me and smoothly swapping it for the beer Eric had poured for me.

No one else seemed to notice, but my whole body flushed.

It was such a Dylan thing to do. He knew I didn’t like beer, but wouldn’t refuse a drink someone handed me.

For most of our relationship, he’d been exceptionally good at taking care of me, and making sure I had what I needed.

I’d forgotten that about him.

“Thank you,” I murmured, looking away. Now that I’d committed to talking about our past, it was like all the anger and resentment inside me had begun to evaporate. My feelings were shifting, unearthing things I’d forgotten. Like how much I wanted him .

Before, I’d been too hurt to feel attracted to him. Now, opening the door to our relationship had unlocked the possibility of other things. Hot, illicit things I hadn’t realized I’d been missing.

“Of course.” I could feel where Dylan’s attention lingered on my skin. His arm brushed against mine, making the hair on the back of my neck stand up. What was wrong with me? It had been a long time since I’d been touched by anyone. Even before I’d left, Dylan and I hadn’t been intimate in months.

Weren’t there studies that showed physical isolation was bad for your health? Maybe that was why all day today, I hadn’t been able to stop staring at his mouth, or the veins in his neck. Yes, that must be it.

“So, Dylan, how do you like Chicago so far?” Victoria leaned across the sticky table, closer than necessary.

Her teeth looked exceptionally pointy, hazel eyes narrow as she studied him.

Had she seen him slide the drink in my direction?

That wasn’t incriminating, was it? I gulped a sip of the wine without tasting it.

“I like it a lot. I’ve been here before for work, but never stayed an extended amount of time. It’s nice to explore a bit.”

“Mmhmm.” She rested her chin on her hand, sizing him up. “And how long are you planning on staying? We’ve never had someone from corporate up here before. I thought you were only supposed to be here for a few days?”

I gulped more wine and pretended to listen to a story Eric was telling at the other end of the table. Dylan’s promotion to Jinx’s CEO was still a secret. Eric had reiterated multiple times that he wanted to ease the team in, make sure they trusted Dylan before making the announcement .

“Like I said before, Worther is interested in the work you’re doing here. We want to see what kind of gold mine we’re sitting on.” Dylan sounded so sure of himself, nonchalant. I could practically feel Victoria simpering. I stared harder at the other end of the table.

“Well, a lot of that has to do with the original staff of the company. We built this place from the ground up. Did you know I was only the third hire Eric ever made?”

I nearly rolled my eyes. She loved to flaunt her tenure at Jinx, like it was a Nobel Peace Prize or something.

“I think you’re right. Jinx operates differently from other agencies within our portfolio.

There must be a reason.” I nearly jumped when I felt his fingers nudge mine under the table.

When I turned to look at him, lines crinkled at the corners of his eyes.

“Probably the same reason Jinx hired our best designer right from under our noses.”

My lips tilted up in a reaction I couldn’t stop. In the past, he’d liked to brag about my artistic talent, mainly when I dabbled with watercolors, or when he wanted to dominate our friends in Pictionary. But he’d never complimented me on my work before.

I hadn’t thought anything of it since our paths hardly crossed at Worther.

He was always out wining and dining clients, and I was on the back end eagle-eyeing the kerning.

But now, he was practically my shadow around the office, in the trenches for most of my meetings and project updates. Apparently, he liked what he saw.

I didn’t know what to say, aside from a muttered thanks. His eyes dipped, watching my mouth move. I bit my lip, and he followed that, too .

Dylan chatted with Victoria for a few more minutes before engaging Noel about her recent house search.

He had always excelled at socializing. He listened and asked great follow-up questions in a way I’d never really gotten the hang of. My colleagues were drawn to him like moths to a flame, captivated by his ability to make them feel important, valued.

There was a time, not so long ago, when I’d been proud to call him mine.

I loved watching him in his element, working a room and dazzling everyone in the vicinity.

It was bittersweet to watch it up close and personal again, knowing these people didn’t know who we were to each other.

Knowing the truth: right now, we were nothing to each other.

“Oh, sure, I’m familiar with that company. Tess, weren’t you in charge of the creative when Worther worked on that new software launch? The blue with the cartoon stuff?” Dylan turned back to me and oh, crap, he was doing it to me . Including me in the conversation, making me feel important.

“Yessss…” I drawled, fiddling with my wineglass. The first had emptied a while ago, and another one had magically appeared in front of me. “How do you even remember that?”

It was the first campaign I’d been completely in charge of at Worther, over two years ago. I’d gotten the opportunity about the same time Dylan had nosedived face-first into his next promotion. I didn’t realize he’d ever even seen it, or known it was mine.

His smile was just slightly off, brown eyes searching, like he was willing me to hear him, and believe him, when he said: “It might not seem like it, but I’m always paying attention to the good stuff.”

** *

“I knew there was some magic going on here.” Eric clapped Dylan and me on the back. He was the last of our group to leave the bar, everyone else heading home for dinner or out for another drink somewhere else. “This is going to work. I can feel it. Can you feel it?”

I swallowed, trying my hardest not to think about how Dylan had shifted closer to me a few minutes ago and hadn’t moved back. His leg pressed up against mine. It had been fine when the table was full. Now, it was just us, but I couldn’t bring myself to move away.

Yeah, I could feel it.

“Absolutely.” Dylan grinned in a way that told me he wasn’t inclined to move, either.

“New leadership, new ideas. Everyone already loves having you around.” Eric squeezed Dylan’s shoulder. “Tab’s still open at the bar. Use it! Get to know each other a little more. The future leaders of Jinx Creative.”

I watched him stroll out the door, achingly aware that suddenly it was just me and Dylan and the warmth radiating between our bodies.

I traced old condensation rings on the table, considering my next move. We’d said we would find time to talk when the rescue pitch was over. Was that time now? Did I really want to do this here, in a bar on a random Friday night?

“I can close out if you have somewhere else to be,” Dylan offered.

When I glanced up, the intense look on his face broke.

He gave me a charming smile that didn’t fool me for a second.

“I’m going to stick around and finish my drink.

Might as well, if it’s going on the company’s tab. You can head out if you want.”

“Hmm,” I hummed, studying him. He didn’t squirm, just met my eyes with that steady, cocky smile. I saw through him, of course. He was giving me an out, in case I wasn’t ready to do this tonight. He was so…so nice. How had I forgotten how nice he was?

In the last week, as the cloudy lens of resentment and bitterness I’d carried back in Nashville started to fall away, it had felt amazing and agonizing.

Amazing because he was amazing, and he still wanted me. Agonizing because he was amazing, and he still wanted me, and I wasn’t sure what to do with that. He might have been on his best behavior now, but how long until he reverted to his old ways, leaving me feeling invisible and unimportant again?

I picked up my half-full glass, weighing my options. It would probably be best for me to call it a night. My thoughts about him were still too muddled and confused. I should leave my wine unfinished on the table and say goodnight.

Right.

“I can stick around to finish this.” I nodded to my drink, betraying every ounce of logic in my brain. “It’s on the company, after all.”

The sides of Dylan’s eyes crinkled, and he placed his elbow on the table, eating up the distance between us. He was close enough for me to see the scar on his hairline from the time he’d fallen off his four-wheeler in high school.

“Thank God, because no one back in Nashville watches Palm Springs Matchmaker, and I have to talk to someone about Vince. ”

“Oh, my God ,” I gasped, clutching my hand to my chest. “He’s such a sleazeball! I don’t know what Ariana sees in him.”

“When he walked out after the dinner party, I had to turn the TV off,” Dylan confided.

I felt like my cheeks would crack from the massive grin stretching across my face.

I had started watching the reality TV show years ago, and somehow Dylan had picked it up, too.

I’d had no idea he’d keep watching if I wasn’t around to turn it on.

I took a sip. “We have to talk about the dinner party. Raquel?”

Dylan’s hand sliced through the air. “Absolute shitshow.” He was grinning now, too, the air between us popping and fizzing like the carbonation in his beer. I rocked my glass back and forth on the table, my mind warring with my heart. There were a lot of reasons I shouldn’t even be here right now.

But he was so handsome it hurt, and he was looking at me like I was the only thing he wanted to look at for the rest of his life.

“We should probably get another round. This could take a while.”

Dylan’s hand raised, flagging down the server before I’d even finished speaking.