Page 35 of The Revenge Game

When I glance at him again, he’s propped against the kitchen counter, weight resting on one hip, watching me, his expression still retaining traces of his laughter.

“Do you want to watch another one of those British comedy clips? There’s this great one about American versus British attitudes to the weather that I think you’ll appreciate.”

He accompanies his invitation with such wide-eyed hope that my heart skips a beat.

And a sudden realization dawns on me.

Justin wants to be my friend.

For all his charm, social grace, and workplace popularity, Justin seems slightly lonely. And he appears to be looking for excuses to spend more time with me.

This is not an outcome I expected.

“Sure, I’ll watch another clip,” I say slowly.

As we head to the living room and nestle into his too-comfortable couch, my mind swirls.

If I become friends with Justin, it will be easier to carry out more acts of revenge against him if that’s what I decide to do.

Isn’t there a saying, “Keep your friends close but your enemies closer?”

Although, who am I actually justifying this to?

Chapter Ten

Andrew

Of the eight million people living in London, I’m fairly certain I’m the person most excited to go to work on Monday morning.

I need a distraction to stop my brain from replaying every moment between Justin and me on Saturday night on an infinite loop.

I’m barely settled at my desk when Xander stumbles in like a zombie. Today’s Dragon’s Sphere T-shirt features what appears to be last night’s dinner—unless gravy stains are the latest fashion trend. His hair looks like it’s attempting to escape his head entirely, possibly to seek better living conditions.

“Morning,” he grunts, collapsing into his chair.

“Morning,” I reply.

Xander switches on his computer, and I hear the familiar sounds of Dragon’s Sphere starting up.

When I check my emails, there’s one from Adam saying he’s out sick today, and he hopes we’ll manage okay without him. He’s thoughtfully attached a twenty-seven-point checklist of everything we might possibly do wrong in his absence, ranked by the potential for catastrophe.

Unfortunately, as the morning progresses, Adam’s assumption that we can’t handle things without him seems like a prophecy.

Because it appears everything technological at DTL Enterprises decides to go on strike this Monday morning. By nine-thirty, my inbox is overflowing with increasingly desperate pleas for tech support.

Marketing can’t access their subscriber database, HR’s emails are sending themselves in reverse chronological order, and Ian from Operations informs me that their inventory system is down.

Then, Alison from Accounting calls.

“Um…sorry to bother you, but our printer is making noises that I’m pretty sure violate the Geneva Convention.”

“Someone will be right up,” I say.

I put down the phone and glance at Xander, whose computer is still emitting an unholy mixture of dragon screeches and what sounds like magical spells being cast by a wizard with a head cold.

“Um…Xander, do you think you could go see what’s causing the printers to jam in Accounting?”

“I just need to finish this level. I’ve never made it through before, and if I die now, my entire guild will see me fail. They already demoted me to mushroom picker last week. Do you know how long it takes to rebuild your reputation after spending three days harvesting psychedelic toadstools?”