Just a Girl - Becky Monson Page 0,45

more mature than his normal boy-next-door looks. Brady is actually pretty darn handsome.

His smile falls a bit. “It doesn’t mean whoever put it up there won’t try again, but at least we got this one down.”

“I’m just so grateful it’s down, even for now,” I say. It’s one less view count to keep my eye on.

“Happy to do it.” He tucks his hands in the pockets of his jeans, rocking back on his heels. “Did you see the email from Henry? The dating policy?”

“I did. Crazy, right?” I shake my head. What would have compelled Henry to post that? I mean, we’ve always had a dating policy at the station, but no one has ever enforced it. At least not since I’ve been here.

Was what happened to him so horrible that he’s now going to make us all suffer the no-dating-at-work rule he has for himself?

Brady looks down at the floor, scuffing his foot as he moves around nervously. “We should probably tell HR,” he says, reaching up to fidget with a button on his shirt.

“Tell them what?”

“About us,” he says.

“What about us?”

“That . . . we . . . you know, are dating.”

I angle my head to the side. “Brady, I don’t think we need to say anything.”

“But the policy says that anyone in a relationship needs to report it to HR.”

“Yeah, but we’re just dating; I mean, should we really get HR involved . . . yet?” I feel a sense of unease flow through me. Brady is obviously taking this dating thing between us a lot more seriously than I am.

“Oh wait, here comes Henry right now,” Brady says, his head turned toward the studio where Henry appears to be just leaving.

“Henry,” Brady says, waving Henry over with his hand.

“Brady,” I say, my voice a low, panicked whisper. “We don’t need to—”

“Hey,” Henry says as he comes to stand next to Brady and me. “What can I do for you?” He looks to Brady and then to me.

I rub my forehead. “It’s . . . we . . . we don’t need anything.”

Brady gives me an odd look and then turns his focus back to Henry. “I just wanted to let you know, regarding the dating policy you sent out today.”

“Yeah?” Henry says, looking to me and then to Brady again.

“Well,” Brady says, his chin tilted slightly upward, “Quinn and I are dating.”

Henry’s eyes go from Brady’s to mine. I see the questions in them.

“We . . . I . . .” I stutter over my words.

“You’re dating? You and Quinn?”

“Yeah,” Brady says, coming to stand next to me. He puts an arm around me.

“How . . . how long have the two of you been together?” Henry asks, his brow pinched together.

“About two months now,” Brady says, turning his head to look at me for confirmation. “Does that sound about right to you, Quinn?”

“Well, I mean . . . I—”

“Really? You’ve been dating for two months?” Henry asks.

I can see the calculating look in his eyes, the math that’s super easy to do.

“Yeah,” Brady says, nodding his head in quick movements.

“Is this true?” Henry turns his attention completely on me.

I’ve yet to formulate an actual sentence. I want to scream “no” and tell him that it’s not serious, that we’ve barely even dated. But the look on Brady’s face—I can’t do that to him right now. Not in public like this. I’ll just have to clarify to Henry later. I shouldn’t have said yes to another date with Brady. I shouldn’t have led him on like that.

“We’ve gone on some dates, yeah,” I say, trying to convey to Henry through my tone that it’s not as serious as Brady is making it out to be, but by the look on Henry’s face, it appears I’m failing tremendously.

“Okay then.” He rolls his lips together, making them into a thin line. “Noted.”

“Great,” Brady says. “Just want to be on the up-and-up.”

“That’s all I ask,” Henry says.

I feel like I want to barf. All over Henry’s oxford shoes.

“Right,” Henry says with a nod. “That’s settled, then. Quinn,” he says without meeting my eyes. “I need to speak with you about the . . . uh, feature idea you had yesterday.”

“Okay,” I say, my voice a tremble.

“Come to my office when you get a chance.” And with a quick dip of his chin toward Brady, he walks away.

“Well, glad we got that squared away,” Brady says, giving me a squeeze with his arm that’s still around me.

I pull out of