“So . . . what’re you going to do about Stiff?” he asked.
“Stiff?” I scrunched my eyebrows in confusion.
“The doctor.”
I gave him an ‘ah ha’ face. “Oh, you nicknamed him that because he gets stiff every time he sees me?” I cracked up at my own joke, and he just shook his head again, that now familiar amusement crossing his features.
“No, really. What’re we doing about him? I thought we had some sort of deal.” His smile widened, and I wondered what he had in mind.
“What’s in this for you?” I asked, my curious smile matching his.
He tipped his head back and then winked. “That’s what I’m sticking around to find out.”
I let out a carefree laugh as my eyes assessed him. “It’s not what you think.”
His lips turned downward in a pout that could almost rival mine.
“Give me time to think this through.” I stuck my pinky into the whipped cream then into my mouth, and then I swirled my pinky and repeated the motion. Maybe the hot cocoa wasn’t the same, but this whipped cream had to have been homemade or something. It was hella good.
I sighed. What was I going to do with him? Sarah was supposed to be my wingman. I glanced up again and repeated the process of swirling my finger in the whipped cream and sticking it in my mouth. How would it even work if Brian were to help me land my doctor?
I guess I could get Dr. Hot Pants all jealous, use two wingmen. Yeah, maybe that would work. “I’ll have to mull it over. I’ll sleep on it and get back to you.”
Pursing my lips, I put the straw in my mug and started to slurp it down. When the drink was finished, I rested the oversized cup on the table. “What’re you doing on Friday? Wanna meet me at Central Park? I’m off next weekend. I can think of the logistics, and we can go over it then.”
This seemed so cliché, me getting the man of my dreams by using another guy. Still, I’d seen it work before. “Of course we have to keep things platonic, but you’ll have to pretend to like me.”
He reached over and surprised me by running his finger over my upper lip. I widened my eyes as he brought the whipped cream he’d wiped off me between his lips, making my pulse quicken.
“I do like you. You taste sweet.” He winked. And I swallowed. Hard.
This platonic thing may be more difficult than I had planned.
SIX
BRIAN
Rubbing the back of my neck, I tilted my head side to side, trying to release the tension from a long week at work. I rested my elbows against the table as I steepled my fingers against my lips and glared at the computer screen in front of me, analyzing the write-up that I had spent the whole week pondering over. I ducked closer, squinting, hoping the numbers would change.
Sensing his presence behind me, I turned and lifted an eyebrow at Conner Clinton, the Third, another banker who’d been at One Financial as long as I had. He loomed above me, his eyes flickering to my computer screen.
Nosy ass.
“Did I tell you?” His grin was cocky, the kind that made me want to fire back with an ‘I don’t care’.
I could almost predict what he was going to tell me. “No, what?” I said with fake enthusiasm. That’s how I had to play in the game of sales. My face said ‘Sure, buddy, what’s going on?’ while my head was screaming, ‘I don’t give a shit!’
“I landed the Rosedell deal.” He sat at the edge of my desk, crossing his ankles like he was staying for a while.
I straightened in my seat, throwing him a congratulatory smile. “Good job, bro.” I forced gusto in my voice, just for his benefit. I didn’t care what deals he landed. I didn’t care what he was currently working on. Why he was so concerned with what I was doing, I had no idea.
He sighed happily. “That’ll make one new deal and two expansions of current clients. And all in this quarter. I’m sure I’ll be on management’s radar for that promotion. Perfect timing with Joe’s retirement and that vacated spot.”
My muscles tensed.
Over my dead body.
Work brought out my competitive nature. I never deemed myself a competitive guy, but now that I was thinking of it, when I was younger, I had always excelled when it came to sports and academics, consistently topping my previous quarter grades or motivating my football team to make the championships.
I nodded in fake approval. Maybe if I remained mute, he’d get the hint and move the hell on.
“Yeah, man. I’m crushing my goals.” He pushed his glasses farther up his face.
I’d had enough of Cocky Conner and his designer clothes, which his trust fund had paid for. “Good for you,” I said, flipping back around to my computer.
I wanted to yell, ‘Show a little modesty, dude’. I didn’t go around letting everyone know when I had landed new deals in my portfolio. I didn’t broadcast every little accomplishment.
My manager’s voice had me raising my head again. “My two favorite boys.” Jason stepped into my cubicle with a file folder in his hand. “Good job on Rosedell, Conner.”
Conner nodded, pleased with himself. “Yeah, it was a tough win boss, but you know I’m always up for the challenge.” He pushed out his chest, all proud and shit, and I coughed to cover my laugh.
Jason smiled, but it didn’t meet his eyes. It was one of the many gestures which gave me tiny hints that Jason didn’t like Conner as much as Conner thought he did, which made me appreciate my manager that much more.
Jason was a no-bullshit kind of guy. He worked hard and had climbed to the top by pure determination. We had one quality in common, which was one needed to excel in sales—Jason and I were good people readers. We knew when to speak and when to shut our trap, and we knew exactly what to say to reel clients in and close the deal.
Conner talked out of his ass too much. He never listened, and a part of me believed a lot of his current deals were won by his well-connected father.
Jason pushed the file folder into Conner’s hands. “These are the additional files for Rosedell. You should contact our operations team to get them on board.”
With a slight nudge, Conner stood, like a doggy receiving an order. “On it, boss.” He nodded once then swaggered out of my cubicle.
“And Conner,” Jason called out.
Conner swiveled, coming to heel on Jason’s command.
“Don’t forget our eight a.m. call on Monday.”
“I’ll be there,” he said a little too cheerfully.
With a slight shake of his head, Jason chuckled. “That’s Conner for you.” I assumed his comment wasn’t a positive thing. “So, how’s that Tiggins deal you’re working on?”
“Pretty good. I’m typing up the proposal and getting ready for my spiel next week in front of their CEO. I’ve got this in my back pocket.”
He slapped my shoulder, his eyes filling with pride. “I don’t doubt it, son.” He sat at the edge of my desk, crossing his arms against his chest. “You remind me of myself twenty years ago. You’ll make it far here, Brian. You’re good at your job and, above all else, you work hard.” He stood and straightened his pant leg, turning to walk away. “Don’t stay past five tonight. Remember, work is work. It’ll be here next week.”
I smiled up at him. He knew I was a bit of a workaholic. And I would’ve stayed all night if I hadn’t already promised I’d meet Kendy at Central Park. The tenseness in my shoulders eased up as I thought of our meeting later that evening. My curiosity spiked as I wondered what she had planned. Whatever it was, I would soon find out.
***
KENDY
After tidying up my apartment all day, I was ecstatic to get outside and enjoy my walk to Central Park. I spotted Brian on a bench at the corner of 5th Avenue and 85th. As I’d expected, he was punctual and exactly where I’d told him to meet me. I smiled big as the warm breeze brushed against my face, the warmth of summer soaking into my skin.