“She’s ignoring us,” Daisy said in a loud whisper as she joined Brit in stealing Taylor’s fries.
Taylor countered their pilfering by reaching across the table and helping herself to some of Daisy’s grilled cheese.
Daisy Sinclair was another of those rare women whom Taylor seemed to click with. The friendship was newer, so she didn’t know her quite as well as Brit, but Taylor adored her every bit as much.
Daisy’s brother-in-law was Oxford’s editor in chief, and after relocating to New York, Daisy had taken a temp job as the office receptionist while the regular receptionist was on maternity leave.
At least, that had been the official story.
Unofficially, anyone could tell that fate (if you believed in that sort of thing, and Taylor mostly didn’t) had sent Daisy to Manhattan because she was the one and only woman who could wrangle the heart of the legendary Lincoln Mathis.
Taylor took one last bite out of Daisy’s grilled cheese before narrowing her eyes at the pretty blonde whose wide, sweet brown eyes and good-girl dress disguised a wicked sense of humor.
“I’ve decided this whole thing is your fault,” Taylor proclaimed, dropping the grilled cheese back on her friend’s plate.
Daisy snorted. “How do you figure?”
“If you’d fallen for Nick instead of Lincoln, then he’d be your problem to deal with.”
Daisy rapped her knuckles against the side of her head. “I’m sure I’m hearing this wrong. Aren’t you the one who told me you’d unfriend me forever if I dated Nick?”
“But you did date him,” Taylor said.
“Eh,” Brit said as she munched a fry. “I think date’s a really strong word for whatever Nick and Daisy did.”
Daisy nodded. “Super true. We went on maybe two lunches and one dinner. And I think Nick knew all along that I was just biding my time until Lincoln got his head out of his ass.”
“I wish Bradley would get his head out of his ass,” Taylor said with an irritated sigh.
Brit and Daisy exchanged a glance, and Taylor pointed at them both. “Spit it out.”
Daisy blinked innocently. “Spit what out?”
“You’ve both got something to say that you think I won’t like. Let’s hear it.”
“Okay, fine,” Brit said, pushing her plate away and crossing her arms on the table. “But remember, Carr, you asked for it.”
Taylor wiggled her fingers in a let’s have it gesture. She had no use for friends who danced around the truth, and both Daisy and Brit knew it.
“About you and Bradley,” Brit said, her voice softening slightly. “We know you’re upset, but we can’t help but notice that you seem more annoyed about the breakup than sad.”
Taylor blinked. “Of course I’m sad.”
“I’m sure you’re hurting,” Daisy soothed in her slight southern drawl. “It’s just…if you’re hoping to get back with Bradley, this thing with Nick seems like it could backfire.”
“You weren’t there,” Taylor said confidently at her friends’ words. “Bradley looked ready to explode over the thought of me and Nick living together.”
“Just what everyone wants for their true love,” Brit muttered.
“It worked for Daisy,” Taylor countered, feeling more defensive by the moment. “Daiz, you said yourself that Lincoln went alpha-hot on you when he thought you were hooking up with Nick.”
“There’s a difference between going to dinner with Nick and moving in with Nick,” Daisy said. “And I actually like Nick. I wasn’t deliberately using him.”
Taylor only stared at her friend. “You like Nick? How is that even possible?”
“Gosh, hard to say,” Brit said as she began to count on her fingers. “Crazy hot, makes a really good cocktail, holds doors for women, looks equally good in jeans and a suit. And I know I’m not the only one who thinks his voice sounds like sex itself.”
Daisy nodded enthusiastically. “It does. All low and gravelly, like he just got done doing really naughty things for a really long time.”
“Keep up with this barf talk and I will repeat that word for word to Lincoln,” Taylor said, shoving her plate away.
“The point is,” Daisy said, ignoring the threat, “your and Nick’s oil-and-water thing does not exactly bode well for your impending roomie status. I mean, you two are going to be sharing the same space as kitchen knives.”
“So we’ll do our best to avoid each other,” Taylor said, waving this away. “The guy’s a part-time bartender—I’m sure our schedules will barely overlap. And besides, you guys are making this about Nick. Can we please talk about the guy who actually matters?”
Her voice was just a touch testy, and her friends hesitated only a fraction of a second before nodding. “Of course,” Brit said, her voice gentler. “Have you talked to him at all since the breakup?”
Taylor shrugged. “He’s still not answering my calls. Or my texts.” Then she groaned. “Oh my God, am I that girl? The one who keeps coming around and can’t take a hint?”
“Tay. The guy broke up with you the day you were supposed to move in together.”
Taylor could have sworn she heard Brit hide the word dick behind a cough.
“You’re right to demand answers,” Daisy continued. “You deserve them.”
“I’ll get them,” Taylor said decisively, smiling in thanks as their server cleared away plates. “He’ll come around.”
“Oh, man,” Brit said with a laugh as she fished her credit card out of her wallet. “I bet Calloway’s gnashing his teeth at the thought of Nick getting to see you in those slinky little nightgowns you sleep in.”
“I thought you didn’t like my plan,” Taylor said, dropping her credit card into the mix. “That I was using Nick.”
“Nah, that’s Daisy’s stance,” Brit said, blowing a kiss at Daisy. “She’s better people than us. I happen to think it’s genius—providing, of course, that you and Nick don’t kill each other.”
“And it’s temporary,” Taylor was quick to add. “Don’t forget temporary. Just long enough for Bradley to get his head out of his ass.”
“So you agree it’s up there?” Brit asked curiously.
“Oh, it’s firmly lodged where the sun doesn’t shine,” Taylor said, not feeling even the slightest bit guilty. She adored Bradley, but he was really starting to get on her nerves.
It was bad enough to dump her in a letter, but she’d tried to understand. Hard conversations weren’t exactly her specialty either.
But didn’t they owe it to each other to sit down and talk about what the heck had happened?
What sort of man dated a co-worker, dumped her, and then refused to discuss it with her?
Still, Taylor wasn’t giving up.
He couldn’t avoid her forever.
They worked together. And yes, all those warning labels that came with dating a co-worker were apparently absolutely warranted. She got now why everyone advised against workplace romances.
Karen would be rolling in her grave if she knew Taylor had been so stupid.
But the damage was done, and now Taylor was determined to make the situation work in her favor. All she needed to do was corner him with a work problem—and then shift the conversation to the personal.