Standing Toe to Toe - Weston Parker Page 0,3

the agency and Mrs. Pratt. For a solid week and a half, I’d been under the impression that the pitch was mine. I’d even started working on it before Jon pulled me into his office and reassigned me to a smaller contract. Then he’d handed Perfect Pairings to Kathryn on a silver platter. He’d told me not to ask questions, so I’d kept my mouth shut.

For the most part.

“The point is it looks like the office will get the contract,” Mark said, ever the optimist. “Besides, did you really want to work on a dating application?”

I shrugged. “Couldn’t be that bad.”

“With her?” Mark nodded at Mrs. Pratt. “She looks like the kind of woman who would give you headaches on a daily basis and expect you to show up to meetings with a coffee for her.”

“Nothing wrong with showing up to a meeting with coffee for your client.”

Mark rolled his eyes. “You’re missing the point. She’s high maintenance. You dodged a bullet, man. Let Kathryn handle the diva. Something better will fall in your lap. It always does.”

I sighed. “I seriously doubt partner will fall into my lap.”

Mark made an unsure sound in the back of his throat.

I shot a glance at him out of the corner of his eye. “What was that?”

“Just because Kathryn lands Perfect Pairings doesn’t mean she’s a shoo-in for partner. You two couldn’t be more different. Jon has a big decision on his plate but there’s no doubt in my mind he’s going to give you the job, Ethan.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“You’ve been here longer,” Mark said. “And on top of that, you’re better liked among everyone in the office.”

“It’s easy to be favored by the people when your rival is Satan.”

“Easy.” Mark chuckled, shaking his head. “She’s not that bad, but she’s not that nice, either. If it were up to the rest of us, you know you’d have our vote.”

I did know that.

I was charming, personable, and well liked in the office. I was the guy everyone went to for help, and to say I didn’t like it would be a lie. Being the go-to guy was an honor, whereas someone like Kathryn would see it as a burden because she considered her time too precious to be shared with her colleagues.

Me, on the other hand? I invested in my work relationships because they often reciprocated something in the long run. If I ever needed help, I had a long list of people I could go to.

Kathryn? I doubted she had anyone’s number in this office besides Jon’s.

I also knew that my colleagues weren’t the ones who would make the inevitable decision between Kathryn and me. That choice rested solely on Jon’s shoulders.

From where I was sitting, it sure seemed unlikely that the promotion would be mine. Jon was grinning at Kathryn like sunlight itself shone out of her ass. And maybe it did. Perfect Pairings was a massive account and the marketing would be big-scale, big-picture stuff. It would draw attention and pull in other clients. That was for sure. Trouble was, they might all call looking for Kathryn Rouche.

That couldn’t happen.

Mark clapped me on the shoulder. “Keep it together, man. She hasn’t beat you out of the running yet. You have horseshoes up your ass. Give it a couple of days. Your luck will turn around.”

It was my turn to make an uncommitted sound in the back of my throat. Mark left me where I stood, brooding and silently cursing the woman in the conference room, and it wasn’t long after he departed that Jon and Mrs. Pratt got to their feet to shake Kathryn’s hand and offer her congratulations.

Irritation crawled around in my gut as Kathryn looked up and winked at me.

Witch, I thought miserably.

I didn’t stick around to watch her sign contracts or make small talk with her new client. Instead, I made my way down the hall to the break room, where several people were gathered sipping hot cups of tea or coffee.

Jon’s receptionist stood on a chair, pinning sparkly snowflakes to the ceiling. They dangled from near-invisible fishing wire and caught the light shining from above. They were quite dazzling and cheerfully festive, and I leaned back against the counters to watch her work as a fresh pot of coffee brewed.

“How long have you been at that, Caroline?”

The young receptionist, bright eyed and rosy cheeked, smiled down at me. “Only about an hour or so, Mr. Collinder.”

“Call me Ethan, please.”

Her cheeks turned an even deeper shade

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