Page 6 of Reaching Gavin

“It was just stupid first day stuff.” I closed the book I’d been reading and decided to slip back to my quarters, so she could relax in her own home.

“I spilled coffee on one of the partners at my first internship. A steaming hot, vanilla latte. Gave him second degree burns. Did you do that?” she asked, her lips tugging up as if the memory amused her. Maybe now that she was successful, she could see past the mortification. I laughed a little, which startled the cat and she ran off. Lillian stretched her legs now that she’d abandoned her lap.

“I didn’t.” Yet. I sensed this situation was doomed somehow. I’d probably drop my mocha on Gavin tomorrow and ruin his expensive suit. Then he really would hate me. That was if I didn’t dump it over Trevor’s stupid head first.

“Then you’ll be fine,” she promised.

“I’m heading to bed,” I told her. Pausing at my door, I called back, “What did he do? Your boss?”

So, I hadn’t spilled burning hot coffee on Gavin North, but he didn’t like me. I wondered how her boss had reacted when she’d doused him with a latte.

“He fired me,” she said, “so I went across the street and got an internship at their rival firm.”

“Nicely played.” Somehow it didn’t surprise me that Lillian had the moxie to march up to another law firm and ask for an internship. Her sister had always called her a workaholic. It seemed she had always been that way. “Good night.”

Going to the rival of NorthWest Investments? That wasn’t going to be an option for me. Besides which, I hadn’t been fired. I just needed to prove that I could cut it, and I would without groveling to the higher up, especially Gavin. That man wasn’t going to bring me to my knees.

I did my best to ignore the faint ember that thought stoked inside me. Getting involved with someone wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Getting involved with my boss wasn’t going to happen ever. The growing beat between my legs suggested my body was considering mutiny.

The truth was that what I missed most about being in a relationship was the sex. I’d never admit that to anyone. It made me sound easy. But that wasn’t it. I’d worked hard to get where I was: landing a full-ride scholarship to Olympic Falls University, keeping my grades up so I didn’t lose it, building my resume. On a daily basis the stress of it wound around me until I was a ball of anxiety. Sex had been my release. The trouble was that sex came with emotional baggage I didn’t have room in my life for anymore. I needed to find new ways to relieve that stress. For now, I turned to my dresser.

And found the damn cat sitting in the open drawer.

“How do you do that?” I asked, before scooping her up and depositing her back into the hall. The last thing I needed was anyone—even a cat— trying to get into my panties.