Page 22 of Try Me
He whistled low. “Man, you’ve really pissed someone off.”
“Yep. Any suggestions for an offering I could make to appease the gods?”
“Nope, but you can appease me by buying me another round of chili fries since mine are now soggy with your tears of woe, Richie Rich.” He laughed when I punched him in the arm. But I did order another round of fries because he put up with my neurotic ass.
“The Chet thing is easy, though,” he said, circling back after the waitress took the order. “Just go back to ignoring him.”
The thing was, ignoring Chet from across campus was one thing. Trying to ignore him from five feet away was an altogether different challenge.
9
Chet
“You look like an asshole.” I offered the observation casually from my seat across from Mark while we waited for our associates to arrive and give us the details of our joint project.
He glanced down at his shirt—a baby pink oxford, no doubt expensive—and then back up at me with a smile so sickly sweet it’d make Cupid pop a chub. “Which part of me is it, exactly, that you’re objecting to?”
“This general area.” I made a gesture that encompassed his torso. Then I moved it higher to indicate his face—his mouth, in particular. “But it’s especially concentrated in this area.”
“So it’s not the tie, then?” He ran a finger down his stupid fucking periwinkle tie—silk, most likely.
“The tie’s not doing you any favors.” Except it was; it looked nice with the stupid fucking pink shirt.
Mark leaned back in the leather chair, folded his arms over his chest, and stared at me, his smile morphing into an amused smirk.
“Nothing? No comeback at all?” That…wasn’t the Mark I knew. Or used to know.
He lifted a shoulder in an indifferent shrug. “I think the tie looks good. And I’ve got the entire summer to grind you down to a stump. It’s also possible you’ll just take care of that yourself. So yeah, I’m in no hurry. Also?” He leaned closer, mirroring my posture, and though instinct had me starting to lean away, I stifled it and held my ground. “You’ve got a little something…” He gestured to the corner of my mouth, so close I felt the heat from his fingertip. “Right there.”
“Bullshit.” I hadn’t had anything but coffee this morning.
He grinned and shrugged again, and then we both looked over at the door as John, who’d introduced himself as a third-year law student at the meet-and-greet cocktail hour yesterday, and Lena, my boss for the summer, strode briskly in, laughing together.
“Morning, fellas.” Lena plunked down a cardboard box that hit the table like Thor’s hammer. “John’s standing in for Rick this morning since he had to go to court. Imagine that,” she explained to Mark, then shot a wink over at me. “Be glad you got me and not Rick. He’s a complete asshole.” I blinked, unsure what to say, but she continued. “And I say that with love. Frequently to his face. Now, let’s get rolling.”
“You’ve got it,” Mark said, with a grin that was just as stupid as his tie. Goddamn, had he always been so good at kissing ass? Surely John and Lena could see through the bullshit. I waited for the flash of realization, but none came; they each smiled congenially back at him. Fucker.
For the next fifteen minutes, Lena and John ping-ponged back and forth, explaining our joint project. “Research, mostly,” Lena said. “But good experience, and it’ll give you a taste of what we deal with.”
We were given a few case studies and then a setup for a mock trial in which a disgruntled former employee filed a suit against our fake client, Megacorp. The box contained a shit ton of paper in no particular order.
Lena patted it. “This will get you started. But the rest? It’s up to you. There are other clues, data, helpful documents lurking around the firm. Think of it as a legal scavenger hunt. This was what totally made this internship worth it, by the way. We had so much fun. A lot of late nights spent here,” she said wistfully. “At the end of the summer, we’ll see which team fared better in building their case using both the clues and whatever legal arguments you’ve come up with.” Her voice dropped dramatically. “But don’t worry too much about the legal arguments yet. You’ve got three years of law school to figure that out. Right, John?” John nodded like a bobblehead. I already disliked him, and it wasn’t just because he kept looking over at Mark like he not only agreed with his taste in ties but also appreciated the sexy mahogany sweep of his stupid hair. “Just be sponges.”
“And prepare to make a ton of copies.” John flashed a smile so attractive it had a reverse psychological effect on me and became the antithesis of attractive. He glanced at Mark. “Rick gave me a list to get you started for the day.”
The door opened again and in walked the guy who’d let me in from the stairwell the other day, and who I now knew as Barrett, one of the office managers. He offered a chipper smile to Lena and John as he tweaked his plaid bow tie. “Dex is ready in conference D.”
His attention turned to me and Mark next. His gaze lingered a couple of beats on Mark’s tie. I got a dismissive sniff. “Glad to see you figured out doors this morning,” he said, then spoke out the side of his mouth to Lena. “This one here ran up ten flights trying to beat the elevators and didn’t think to check whether the doors were keyed access or not. I’m afraid he’s not too bright.”
“If it helps, he struggles with elevator doors, too,” Mark cheerfully supplied. “The sliding mechanism throws him off every time.”
I glared at him.
Barrett cocked his head at Mark. “You know, I was going to call you Thing One and him Thing Two”—he thumbed in my direction—“but I might kind like you. And—” He leaned closer to Mark’s collar. “Excellent cologne choice.”
Really? I folded my arms over my chest. “Come by after noon when it wears off. Then you’ll smell the bullshit underneath.”
“Wow. Lotta salt in the room this morning.” Lena clapped her hands as her eyes danced with amusement. “I like it. I can tell you’ll be fabulous partners.”