Page 98 of Not In The Contract

“Ah, yes,” said a voice from the door, drawing my attention. “Poor Devon was right. Youarebrooding.”

I glared at Taylor, leaning irreverently against my door frame.

“Are you harassing my housemate?”

“Oh, ahousemate, is she?” Taylor snickered, pushing off the door and walking in.

“It’s late for you to be sniffing around my door for tea,” I taunted, leaning back in my seat with a grin.

With a dramatic sigh, Taylor fell into the seat Devon had vacated moments ago. “You're my only single friend,” she lamented. “And work was a mess today and, no, I don’t want to talk about it. You talk about something. Please.”

“Well, if you’re offering.” I frowned. “Did you happen to overhear Devon talking to Elliot at brunch?”

Taylor cocked her head in thought, her lips pursed. “I can’t say I can remember what they were talking about,” she admitted. “Hayden and Frankie were the stars of the show, as usual.”

I giggled quietly. “Devon was talking to Elliot about what she’d do once she was done with her thesis,” I explained. “We’ve talked about it before, but she still sounds so unsure. I’ve been wondering if there was something I could do to help.”

“Why not offer her a job here?” Taylor suggested, waving a casual hand around the office. “Your HR team could always use a psychiatrist.”

I shook my head. “She’dhateit here.” I laughed softly. “Devon isn’t meant to be chained to a desk for forty-five hours a week, pushing paper and attending meetings like us. For one, she’d probably be let go after being late for a week straight.”

“Not if she has the boss in her pocket,” Taylor said suggestively.

“No,” I insisted. “That’s the last thing she’d need here, anyway. Her first job rife with rumors that she’s sleeping her way to the top? I’d rather she not have to go through that.”

“Then, what are you thinking?” Taylor pressed, absently picking at the skin around her manicured nails.

“Honestly?” I asked. Taylor nodded. “I don’t know. She doesn’t strike me as the kind of person who’s going to claw her way through the corporate slaughterhouse to make ends meet.”

“Like Jamie?”

“Not at all,” I said instantly, and immediately regretted it. Questions swam in Taylor’s gaze and I sighed.

“What makes them different?”

“Apart from the obvious,” I gritted out, “Devon seems towantto build a future, she just doesn’t know how. Jamie, on the other hand, is perfectly happy exactly where she is.”

“Her birthday is coming up,” Taylor hummed. “I’m guessing we didn’t make the guestlist.”

My shoulders slumped. “Don’t even get me started onthat,” I grumbled. “She’s been flying under the radar but that never bodes well where Jamie is involved.”

“No doubt she’ll pop up out of nowhere when you least expect it.”

“As usual.”

“Oh, you’re here!”

I watched Devon dance around the kitchen, plating our food and setting it on the counter between us.

“Did you manage to get to everything you needed?” she asked, her hair pulled back into a long plait that swung between her shoulder blades.

I lifted a shoulder in a lazy shrug and sat down, accepting the fork she handed me. “It’s something I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”

“Should I pack my things?”

My gaze snapped up in surprise before recognizing the playful smirk on her full lips. “You’re so full of it,” I scoffed, tearing my eyes away from the dimpled smile she offered in return.

“So I’m told,” she said proudly. “What did you want to talk about?”