How to Marry Your Frenemy - London Casey Page 0,11

why I was one step away from becoming Jackson’s boss.

The stare down finally came to an end thanks to Misha.

She walked into my office and said, “Ready to move?”

I broke eye contact with Jackson and hated myself for it.

Those chocolate brown eyes of his were like dark chocolate… nobody wanted that crap. We all wanted regular chocolate. Milk chocolate. Real chocolate. The kind with lots of sugar.

Right?

“Morning, Misha,” I said.

“I know you have the meeting soon,” she said, “but I wanted to keep all the good vibes going…”

“Good vibes?” I asked. “Now you sound like my mother.”

“Hey, it’s not a bad thing.”

“If you put some kind of magic rock on my desk and tell me it’s going to give me powers, I’m going to ask you to leave.”

“No rocks,” Misha said. “But I have the lease to your new apartment.”

I smiled and let out a groan of relief.

“I’m finally free,” I said.

“Yes, you are,” Misha said.

It cost me a little bit to get out of my old place, but it was worth it.

I was finally going to have my own apartment.

I had worked hard enough for this.

It was time.

Things were going to be a little bit tight, but with the promotion and a healthy raise, I would be just fine.

It was a risk to get a new place before the promotion, but whatever.

I needed it. I deserved it.

Without hesitation, I grabbed a pen and signed my name on the lease.

I flipped back to the pictures of the apartment and smiled.

It was a total luxury kind of place, but had some old fashioned charm to it.

My favorite parts were the hardwood floors and the lighting.

Everything was fake, but it had that rustic vibe that I wanted.

I handed the lease back to Misha.

“When can I move in?” I asked.

“As soon as I hand this in,” she said with a smile.

“Perfect. And, hey, it had nothing to do with good vibes, okay? It was about work. And having someone like you around.”

“You really don’t like that stuff, do you?” Misha asked.

“No,” I said. “I’m not going to stand out in the rain with a rock in my left hand thinking the universe is going to drop a bag of money from the sky.”

Misha just nodded.

She appreciated my rants. And withstood them.

In the back of my mind, I realized how I must have sounded.

I closed my mouth mid-sentence.

“I’m done,” I whispered.

“I’m going to get this lease handed in,” Misha said. “I’ll get you the keys. I already have a moving company on standby.”

“You’re the best,” I said. “This is all working out, Misha. And when I get a promotion, so do you. Okay? This is for us. You’ve worked your ass off too.”

“I’m happy right where I am,” she said.

She slipped out of the office and I shook my head.

Misha was awesome. She was so pretty and geeky and just… awesome.

But she settled.

All the time.

You could be happy with what you had in life, but you needed fire to keep going.

“Always want more,” I whispered.

That was the only way I could keep going forward.

I looked down at my desk and took a deep breath.

One hour and fifteen minutes until the big meeting.

Dicky and Michael sat with their hands folded as we talked strategy.

In all reality, we were the ones in control of the meeting. We could leave the room without a deal and it wouldn’t hurt the company. In fact, sometimes walking away was the best decision.

But again, Vince liked risks. He liked to gamble. He liked to live on the edge.

Just like his goddamn nephew.

Jackson sat down and rested his hand to his face and stared at me as I talked.

“Looking at the marketing plans, it’s obvious this is going to be a very fast attack plan,” I said.

“Correct,” Dicky said.

He had messy blond hair and blue eyes. He was chubby with a big smile.

Definitely a salesman.

Michael sat across from him, in a much nicer suit than Dicky.

It was obvious who was the free thinker and the logical one in the company.

I glanced at Michael. “Your thoughts?”

“I handle the software,” Michael said. “Software and security.”

“And financials,” Jackson said.

“Those too,” Michael said.

“Look, Michael is my right hand,” Dicky said.

I looked at Jackson in a hurry, fearing him making some comment about Dicky masturbating using Michael’s hand.

Jackson kept his mouth shut and I hated myself that I was actually thinking as though I were Jackson.

“The numbers are all there,” Michael said.

“The product too,” Dicky said. “We’ve got plenty of others to talk to. I don’t