such joy?”
I narrow my eyes. “A prospect you’re more than familiar with.”
He smirks. “I don’t cut you down, duchess. I vex you. There’s a big difference.”
“The end result is the same no matter what verb you use,” I say through clenched teeth. “Clearly, your overall goal is to piss me off.”
He shrugs, like the apathetic jerkoff he is. “You do your best work when you’re exasperated. Part of my job as boss is to keep my employees motivated.”
“You’re confusing infuriation with motivation.”
He slides his hands in his pockets, far too casually. “And yet I know you’ll have that to me by the end of the day. Seems my methods are effective. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, right?”
My teeth clamp down on my tongue to silence the instinctual vitriol.
I’ll do a swan dive into a river of boiling lava before I ever give him the satisfaction of being right.
I can’t resist a challenge. He knows I’m going to bust my ass every day at work, no matter how acerbic our conversations get. Something about Ryder’s demeanor toward me, his work ethic, and his general expectations of his employees have always lit a fire inside me, making me want to rise to the occasion. It’s irrational—and just plain idiotic—how much I’ve wanted to impress him from day one. Ever since I found out that my boss has absolutely no memory of sleeping with me, I’ve been determined to prove myself.
So help me Mary Magdalene, I will make him remember me.
My nails dig into my palms as my hands fist on top of my keyboard. “If you don’t want something broken, I suggest you clear out and let me get back to doing my job. Which, by the way, is making you look good.” I wink. “Just in case you’ve never noticed.”
Realistically, my mouthy ass should have been fired after my first three days at TCG. I talk to Ryder like I would any annoying asshat, yet it somehow works for us. Exchanging jabs, slicing with our words, pushing our patience to the tipping point—it’s our rhythm. It’s cohesive. It’s comfortable.
It’s confusing as hell.
Because the two of us actually make a good team.
The corner of his mouth tips up in his signature cocky grin. “Oh, believe me, duchess. I’ve noticed how good I look. But it’s nice to know I’m not the only one.”
My mouth tightens into a firm line. He looks proud of himself. “I’m forced to look at your smug mug almost every day. Trust me, whatever appeal you have toward other women has grown stale here.”
He snickers. “Keep telling yourself that.”
Deciding the conversation has spiraled far beyond nowhere, I turn back to my computer. Sometimes the best way to get rid of him is to ignore his bait.
It doesn’t work.
He stays right where he is, hovering beside my desk. “Got plans tonight?”
My fingers pause again. In the ten months I’ve worked here, he’s never once asked about my personal life. “If you’re planning on dumping a huge workload on me and making me stay late, forget it. I’m busy.”
Though it wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had to cancel my plans because he’s forced me to burn the midnight oil. Although he’s never asked anything of me or anyone else that he isn’t willing to do himself. Oftentimes, those late nights involve me working at my cubicle or in the conference room, while he remains camped out in his office.
But tonight is too important.
“Hot date?”
Surely, I’m imagining the clipped way those words come out.
“Harper and West are having a celebration party,” I answer, intentionally not addressing his hot date comment. Let him think I’m bringing a date to the party. I’m not, but he doesn’t have to know that.
Why do you think he’d care?
“Ah, yes,” Ryder muses. “West extended me an invitation to that. Business seems to be going well for him.”
I absolutely hate that he knows anything at all about my close-knit group of friends. But when Harper’s boyfriend West was looking for investors for his helicopter charter business a couple of months ago, I threw Ryder’s name out. He likes to make smart investments in local businesses, and he certainly has enough money. I thought there was potential for both of them to benefit from a business partnership. Even more maddening, Ryder and West get along like old schoolyard pals. Harper told me the two men have had drinks together several times and seem to have a lot in common.
I don’t like it.
Don’t like him infiltrating