I narrowed my eyes.
“Why are you so opposed to sharing a couple of chips?” He shrugged, as if he hadn’t just asked me in a roundabout way why I wouldn’t sleep with him.
“Maybe I don’t feel like sharing my chips. A girl doesn’t have to share.” I crossed my arms, jostling Luck in the process.
“It’s not like you’ve never shared before. Why so stingy now?” He reached in front of me and grabbed a chip from the bag Luck held and made a show of eating one.
“Maybe I’m just not in the mood to share my chips. I don’t have to share my chips simply because I’ve shared my chips in the past.” I grabbed the bag of chips from Luck and rolled the top closed. “See? Nobody is getting chips.”
He stared at my hand, bag clinched tightly in my fist and then he gave me that smirk. I had a love/hate relationship with that smirk.
“I think deep down,” he leaned in slightly closer before he continued, “you want to share your chips.”
I inhaled sharply. “Are you insinuating I share my chips freely?”
He squinted. “What I’m saying is, someone might get the foolish notion that once you’ve shared some chips with them, you’d be likely to share chips on a regular basis.”
“You didn’t even like the chips! Why do you have to have my chips now?”
“That’s completely misrepresenting how I feel about chips. I wasn’t looking to expand my diet at that moment. It has nothing to do with whether I liked the chips or not. Or whether once I had some chips, I wouldn’t want them in the future.”
One of the Jinxes groaned loudly where he stood in front of us. “I think I’d rather be in the office with Douchebag, getting beat up.”
“Why is she getting so crazy about her potato chips? Am I in trouble for eating some?” Murphy whispered to Luck, underestimating my hearing.
Luck leaned closer to him. “It’s one of those weird talks I was telling you about. They never mean what they mean. It’s not chips, it’s—”
I kicked her before she could finish.
“What? What is it?” Murphy pressed.
Luck paused before blurting out, “Lipstick.”
“He wants to share her lipstick?” Murphy asked and I saw him peeking over at Fate and me.
“Um, sort of,” Luck responded.
Fate leaned over towards them, pressing against me as he did, and said, “I like her to apply it personally though.”
Murphy made a questioning face before I saw it finally click and he made a loud “ohhh” sound.
I’m not sure where our conversation would’ve led because we all fell silent when Harold’s door started swinging open.
A man, who definitely was not Harold, stepped out. Close to Fate’s height and build, but light where Fate was dark, his thick hair couldn’t seem to decide what color it wanted to be—blond or brown. He looked to be in his late twenties, although that meant absolutely nothing where any of us were concerned. He wore a black suit with a white shirt, which was unbuttoned at the neck, softening the appearance.
He must have come through the door. It was the only logical explanation. He was handsome, but his mode of arrival alone would’ve been enough to garner my interest. I tried peeking around him and got enough of a glimpse into the office to see that the door was closed and it didn’t look like Harold was in there any longer.
The new guy cleared his throat as he looked over the group of us. His eyes scanned every person in our group but when they landed on me, they paused.
My spine straightened a little, and I wondered what he found so interesting about me. I wasn’t dealing with any more transfer bullshit.
Fate rose beside me and straightened to his full height, suddenly taking some interest in the situation. He took a step slightly in front of me and I had to shove Luck farther down the table so I could see around his broad back. It was nice that he thought he could protect me from possible danger but all he was doing currently was blocking my view.
“Harold has retired,” the man said, his voice sounding as refined as his appearance, and he turned his gaze on the whole of the group again.
Bernie the leprechaun, all three and a half feet of him, walked over and stood in front of the newcomer. “Who the fuck are you?”
Bernie was especially cranky today because some woman had found three four-leaf clovers in the period of one week.
The man looked down, unfazed, and then looked back up as if Bernie were of no consequence. Hands resting loosely on his hips, he said to the group, “Harold retired. I’m Knox, his replacement.”
No one spoke.
Just like that, Harold was gone. And who had given him his pink slip? Was it Paddy or the others? And was Knox going to be useful or was he just for show, like Harold had been?
Knox’s chin edged up slightly. “Do you have any questions?” he asked.
Fate inched closer, drawing Knox’s gaze.
“I do,” Fate said.
Knox made a single nod, acknowledging Fate before he spoke. “I’ll be in my office.” He turned around and walked back into what used to be Harold’s office and left the door open. I watched as he settled in behind the cluttered desk and started to sort through papers.
Fate stepped forward, heading toward the office, and I followed. There was no way I wasn’t going to be a part of this conversation. I was hoping Knox wasn’t going to be another paper pusher. We needed help. Hands on, feet grounded, walking beside us help.
I bumped into Fate’s back as he stopped short of what was now Knox’s office.
Knox raised his gaze and gestured Fate in. Fate didn’t move.
“You know where to find me,” Fate said.
“Yes,” Knox replied.
“Twenty minutes.”
Knox nodded.
I stepped outside the opening of the door and made mad gesturing motions towards the inside.
Fate shook his head.
I moved forward.
Fate blocked.
What are you doing? I mouthed, having no idea what kind of hearing the new kid had.
Our terms, not his, he replied silently.
I threw my hands up. Seriously? We can’t just go talk to the guy?
He didn’t have to shake his head or nod. The resounding no was written all over him, punctuated by his arms crossing and his feet braced apart.
I shook my head and waved for him to lead the way to wherever this meeting was to take place, rethinking my choice of partners the entire time. Maybe I would’ve been better off with Luck. Oh wait, that’s right, Fate had chosen me.
Chapter Three
“Why couldn’t we just chit chat with him right then and there?” I asked as I followed Fate down the hall towards the stairs. Why was I following him? And where? I hoped it wasn’t because he smelled particularly good today and his jeans fit oh-so perfectly. Nothing else made sense, because I really couldn’t figure out why it would be a bad idea to talk to Knox in what was now his office.
Fate stopped and held the stairwell door open for me. “Because we talk on our terms, not his.”
Our terms? I didn’t remember him asking me for my terms, and yet it felt kind of nice to have standards, even if I’d only found out about them afterward. Maybe this was something I could get behind after all. “Where are we going to achieve these terms we require?”
He followed me into the stairwell and then passed me on the stairs. “My office,” he said as if it were no big deal that he had an office and I was just finding out about this now.
The balm of “our terms” went out the window with those two words. “Your office?” It wasn’t our office. First the car, then the pay, and now he had an office? Who could blame me if my voice had come out like a shrieking witch? “Excuse me, but when did you get an office and why am I only finding out about this now?”
He looked back at me briefly. “I’ve always had one. All that time you spent laying out the building, one had to assume you knew.”