Page 37 of My Office Rival (Keep Your Enemy Closer #2)

JASON

“ T here has to be parking here somewhere,” I muttered as I circled.

Every damn person in the state was at this event, and the grassy parking area was full of lifted pickup trucks and beat up SUVs.

Our tiny rental car looked dinky in comparison.

The sight of the mud splatters on the sides of the cars and the occasional pair of truck nuts made me shudder.

I had known too many men, boys really, who used cars as a cover for their small egos.

“I had no idea this would be so popular.” Cynthia stared out the window, her voice awed. “It’s like being in another country.”

I snorted as I finally pulled in to an empty spot on the edge of the parking lot. “Try not to stare at the locals. It makes them angry.”

“You’re not going to be weird about this whole thing, are you?”

I knew she meant how I had clammed up at the bar last weekend. I sure as hell was going to try. “It’s tough to know what can…remind me, but I’ll do my best.”

“Okay.” She accepted that and hopped out of the car.

I closed my eyes briefly. There would be people here who reminded me of them . My foster family. The last one I’d ever had before I’d turned eighteen and gotten the hell out of there. I was not going to let my past control me .

Cynthia rapped on the hood. “Let’s go, loser.”

Her tone snapped me out of it. I smiled ruefully and shook my head before climbing out of the painfully small car.

“All right, let’s do this. Fried dough first, or do you want to examine the livestock?

” I asked. We trekked across the grass, our feet kicking up dust, me in a long-sleeved shirt and light jacket, and her in a pair of sinfully tight jeans and a tie-dye sweatshirt.

Her hair was up and her eyes sparkled. I liked weekend Cynthia.

She was a little more approachable. Even her mouth was softer, not set in frustration like it was at the office.

That damnable bottom lip had the tiniest divot under it.

I kept glancing at her and looking away.

“Hmm. It all sounds so fun. I’m not hungry yet. Maybe let’s check out the livestock?” She sounded skeptical and I laughed.

“You need to lean in.”

“This is me leaning in. I can’t believe the word ‘livestock’ just came out of my mouth,” she grumbled.

“You’re practically a local already. Yee-haw.” I put some twang into my voice and she giggled.

The smells and sounds of the festival assaulted us soon enough. Fried foods, animal dung, and hordes and hordes of people. I steeled myself.

“Stay close, okay? I don’t want to lose you.” I couldn’t help my paranoia.

“Okay,” she agreed softly.

We headed for the large animal enclosures, which were tucked behind the concert venue and past the food stalls.

Cynthia paused at a neon yellow food truck. “Ooh. Remind me to come back for some of those deep-fried Oreos later.”

“You have impeccable taste.”

“I know. I’m sure I’ll feel sick later. There was a restaurant I used to frequent that would deep fry anything you brought to them. Deep-fried malted chocolate balls are to die for.”

“I’m beginning to suspect our impossibly high salaries might be wasted on you,” I teased.

“Wait until you see my shoe collection,” she retorted .

The large animal enclosures were an oasis of calm in a whirlwind of chaos. Inside was the musk of animals, the buzz of flies, and the sounds of tails swishing.

We started with the dairy cows, with their liquid eyes and soft hides. Cynthia stopped by a particularly delicate looking cow, reading her name card.

“This one is called Daisy. She’s too cute to eat.” Cynthia made a face.

“No one is eating these cows. Most cows you eat are male cows. The female cows are too valuable.”

“The cows have it right,” she grumbled, and I grinned at her annoyance. She kept her eyes on Daisy, watching her placidly eat. “How do you know so much about this?”

I shoved my hands into my pockets. “I don’t. But my first foster home was in a small, ranching town. Not so different from Booth, I suppose, but slightly bigger.”

She was quiet, and I steeled myself for her pity. “I’m picturing you as a rancher. That’s hot.” She winked, and the breath left my chest.

“It also couldn’t be further from the truth.” I leaned on the enclosure next to her, keeping my eyes on Daisy, who seemed to be enjoying our company. “I was only there until I was ten, then I was with another family until I became a problem, then another until I was eighteen.”

“You? A problem? I’m shocked.”

Her quiet teasing made me smile. “I was a shithead of a kid. That foster family wasn’t perfect, but they were okay.

But I was a young teen, and I was trouble with a capital T.

Always getting in fights with boys twice my size, hanging out with the wrong crowd.

Well, at least until I got my act together at sixteen or so.

You know that show about the guy who teaches himself law and then gets a job at a big fancy firm? ”

She nodded, not looking at me, which made it easier to tell her all this.

“I realized what hard work and money could do for me, and I was determined to change my life. Ace high school, go to college, go to law school or business school, get a big fancy job. But mostly get the fuck out of there.”

“ There was Tennessee? Your third foster family?”

I nodded, wishing I had something to do with my hands, feeling restless. I turned away from her and pulled a piece of straw from a bale of hay sitting by the stall door.

“Correct. That family was…bad.” I left it at that.

I didn’t mention the fights I didn’t start, that had always ended with me getting bloodied and bruised, the days I hadn’t eaten except at school, where they had served free lunch.

“It’s why I’ll never go back to somewhere like this.

” I waved my hand. “Small towns give me the creeps. I like being anonymous. And I like being rich.” I shrugged and twisted the straw around my finger.

She was quiet for a second and oddly, I felt comfortable with it. Not waiting for judgment or pity. Cynthia glanced at me, her brown eyes serious.

“I understand that. This career is like a forge. You can go in one thing, and with enough heat and pressure, you can become something totally different. You can be reborn. From a country boy to a big city lawyer. I’m just a girl from Queens, but at the office I’m a shark, someone to be feared, a voice of authority.

I’m not just a face in a crowd, but someone who matters, someone people look up to. ”

“You love it.”

She nodded. “I do. I love being a protector, someone people can depend on. But sometimes…” She trailed off and chewed her lip.

“But what?” I prodded.

She sighed. “But sometimes it feels like a millstone around my neck. I’ve always been the responsible one in my family.

My parents are so quick to say ‘It will be fine. Don’t worry about us.

Don’t worry about money.’ They come from different worlds.

In America, money is everything .” Her voice was fierce, her frustration palpable.

“I’ve never stopped to ask myself what I want.

I’ve been the good daughter, the one who is always there on holidays, the one who goes home for the weekend, because my brother can’t.

The one who gives them money when they need it.

Always giving and giving. I guess it’s selfish to wonder what my life would look like if I lived it mostly for myself, or who I might be.

I’m probably not brave enough to find out.

I like the money too much and the status it brings me, especially when I grew up without any.

” She fell silent, and I looped my arm around her shoulder and pressed my face against her hair.

“That’s not selfish at all,” I murmured against her.

Just for a moment, I held her, feeling her stiffen in surprise and then relax against me.

The fiery strands escaping from her bun tickled my nose, and the feel of her tucked under my arm made me want to protect her from the world.

“What if, while we’re here, you live just for you?” I stepped back and shoved my hands back into my pockets so I wouldn’t touch her again.

“What do you mean?”

“You have no obligations except work. We’re here for at least another week or two. Have fun with me. Live for you, not them. Say fuck it.”

Her eyes searched mine, her brows furrowed in confusion, or perhaps uncertainty.

“I’ll tell you what. I’ll do it too,” I offered.

“Yeah?” Her lips quirked. “You’ll let go? You’ll say fuck it? That might be impossible for you.”

“I can start right now.” I held my arms open wide.

“Okay.” She gave me a tentative smile, and I returned it.

“Where to first? The night awaits.”