“Wow, that sounds . . . harsh.”

“Anyway,” he says, “I just wanted to let you know. I realize this is weird, to say the least.”

My heart gives a little jolt in my chest. Carter is such a nice guy. It makes all of this even more twisty.

“Well, at least I’ll get to see you today, then,” I tell him. “How’s everyone handling it on your end? Steph said the crew at Alterman went into panic mode thinking they’d get sucked into this.”

“I talked to Michael Christopher last night and joked that I might need to move into his guest room if my position gets cut,” he says, and I want to reach through the phone and hug him. P&D is pretty small, and notoriously cutthroat. “You hear anything on your end?”

“Not really. There was a company-wide email last night, but it was basically a rehash of what we already knew.”

He sighs. “That’s what I figured.”

“What about you? You doing okay?”

“I’ve been better.” He lets out a tight laugh. “I mean, I’m assuming I still have a job? Unlike my assistant. Which is why she wasn’t at the meeting yesterday.”

“Oh my God, Carter. I’m sorry.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Honestly, Becca was amazing. I’d be lost without her on a normal day. I have no idea how I’ll navigate through all this.”

I feel a little sick for him, knowing how I’d feel if I lost Jess, especially right now.

“On a brighter note,” he adds, “looks like I’ll finally be meeting the illustrious Brad Kingman.”

A metaphorical trapdoor has just opened under my feet. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“Brad Kingman.”

“He heads up my department—Features, not TV-Literary.”

“I know,” Carter says, and I can hear the shrug in his voice. “But that’s what it said when they told me where to go this morning. My meeting is with Brad.”

chapter eight

evie

At five to ten, my desk phone rings. I keep my eyes on the monitor in front of me and exhale in relief when, after a second ring, it goes silent. Good, I think, finishing an email. I don’t want to talk to anyone today anyway.

There’s a knock less than a minute later, and I look up to see Jess standing in the doorway.

She nods toward the unanswered phone. “Despite the dark window”—she motions to the pane of glass next to my door—“I knew you were in here.”

“I’m sorry,” I tell her guiltily. “Would you think less of me if I told you I was scared?”

She laughs as she steps inside, closing the door behind her. “Now that we have computer access, most people are on LinkedIn or Googling How to Survive a Merger.”

I press send before looking back up. “Though I don’t know what we’re all hiding for. Nobody’s even seen Brad, and yesterday was such a confusing shit show, I should feel confident that today can’t top it.”

Jess clears her throat and I narrow my eyes at her, wary.

“What?”

“Well, the reason I called . . .” She winces a little. The gold studs in her ears twinkle back at me beneath the fluorescent lights as she grips the back of the chair she’s leaning on. “He’s here. When you didn’t answer he called me. He wants to see you.”

“Brad?”

“Brad.”

I slump in my chair. “Well, fudge.”

“He’s been calling people in all morning and it looks like it’s your turn. Or you know, ‘Up to bat!’ as he would say.”

I groan. So he is staying.

• • •

Everyone looks up as I walk past on my way to Brad’s office. If he’s been calling people in all morning, who knows what they’ve seen? Relief? Tantrums? Tears? Anything is possible.

I rarely question my appearance anymore—a gift that seems to have arrived with the transition into my thirties—but with all eyes on me, I feel like an awkward model on a catwalk. I really should have worn my padded bra.

In my peripheral vision, a few heads turn, their attention lingering on something at the other end of the hall. I follow their gaze.

Carter.

His suit is charcoal gray and looks like it was made for him by magical tailor elves. It hugs his shoulders, tapers at his waist, frames his body perfectly. I tug at the hem of my shift dress, suddenly feeling frumpy.

His long legs close the distance between us in just a few strides. “Hey.”

I try to keep my gaze in the safe zone: on his tie. It’s blue with tiny green flecks and I already know that if I look up, I’ll see the way it brings out the color in his eyes.

Yup . . . it does.

“Hi.” I am hyperaware of all eyes on us. I mean, why wouldn’t they be watching this train wreck? I would. Not that they know I had his penis in my hand a few days ago, and now we apparently work together, but it’s probably written all over my face—

Or maybe they aren’t watching because of me at all. Maybe they’re watching us because Carter is a new, gorgeous guy in the department.

I feel an odd mix of possessiveness and unease.

“I’m just on my way to Brad’s office.” I’m eager to put some space between us and the office full of onlookers. “How did it go with you?”

“I don’t know yet,” he says. “Our eight a.m. was delayed. I’m on my way there now. Kylie was just taking me.”

And it’s only now that I notice Brad’s assistant, Kylie, standing a few paces away, nonchalantly checking out Carter’s ass. When she catches my eye, she steps closer. Carter smiles down at her. She smiles back, a hint of pink blooming on her neck and cheeks.

A direct hit. An eerie sense of foreboding prods at my brain.

Kylie clears her throat and walks ahead of us, stopping outside the door to Brad’s corner office.

“You can go on in.” She gives Carter a smile that lingers just past too long and verges on weird. Or maybe it’s only weird because I’m here, staring like she’s committing some grave offense by looking at him. “He’s expecting you both.”

“I’m sorry, Kylie,” I say, “did you say he’s expecting us both? As in . . . together?”

“That’s right.”