Why? Is she hot?
Griffin:
Yes.
Shut up, Griff.
Henson:
Oh… sensitive…
I better not hear from either of you for the rest of the day.
Henson:
Griff, I’m calling you for the scoop.
Griffin:
I’m ready.
Worth, it was a test to see how you’d react to her at the office. From what I saw, you passed, so why are you all pissy?
I don’t want to be part of your stupid tests.
Henson:
Who is this girl?
Griffin:
Worth’s next ex-wife.
Henson:
Lol. I can already tell that you fucked up, Worth.
Griffin:
If what you told me this morning is true, then you have nothing to worry about. Her presence shouldn’t affect you, right?
Right.
I’m trying to convince myself as much as him.
And that’s what I need to remember. If I let her get under my skin, Mya Dessen-Jones could dismantle every piece of the perfectly curated life I’ve built for myself.
It’s after lunch,and I haven’t caught another glimpse of Mya since she sat in my office this morning.
Griff ended up running his mouth to Henson about my so-called “dilemma” and, sure enough, my brother called me demanding why I hadn’t told him about her earlier. I argued there was nothing to tell, I wasn’t planning on hiring her. But in my almost-drunken lapse last night, I offered her the job anyway.
Henson let me off the hook faster than I expected, though not without giving me the same look Griffin had, also reminding me to “be careful.”
I’m a grown man. I don’t need anyone telling me how to conduct myself.
On my daily rounds through the office, I pass the glass-walled boardroom. The new hires have been corralled in there all morning, learning about W.H.M. Construction, the firm’s structure, and the projects on deck. Soon they’ll be split into teams and given their first assignments.
A sudden motion catches my eye. Curly brown hair, tilting towards the window.