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Authors: Jill Winters
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Rattlesnake, which was three days ago, and almost definitely indicated the blow off. But still, she hoped maybe...
"I'd better not," she said, only mildly apologetic, because she knew that it was probably of little consequence to Matt whether or not she went to lunch. He was a quintessential schmoozer. When he wanted to, he could charm everybody, but he didn't seem to like anybody. In fact, the few times she had gone to lunch with him, she'd spent the whole time listening to him make fun of people. Granted, he was usually amusing, but she wasn't going to get behind on her work to catch his act. Now if it were Dominick, that would be another story.
Oh, why hadn't Dominick responded to her email? Okay, so she'd acted sort of weird at Rattlesnake. Was he going to hold a grudge forever? She'd asked him to go to happy hour with her on Friday night. Wasn't that compensation enough?
Fine, maybe not.
Probably not.
Slim-to-none chances, and when it came to men, her luck generally leaned toward bad.
"All right," Matt said. "Well, good luck with your work. Actually, is Twit even in? I haven't seen him today."
"Yeah, he's been holed up in his office all morning, but I fully expect him to come out and verbally abuse me anytime now."
"And call you 'Lola,' " Matt snorted. He glanced over his shoulder and muttered, "Oh, man, look who's coming this way." Lonnie looked past Matt's mocking sneer, and saw B.J. swaggering toward them. It was really a shame that B.J. had the kind of over-compensating personality that lent itself to ridicule, because in some ways, he reminded her of an over eager little kid.
"Hey, you two," B.J. called. "What's this little tête-à-tête about?" He stopped in front of Lonnie's desk, next to Matt, and flashed her a 100-watt smile. Now she felt really bad.
"Hi, B.J. How are you?" she asked.
"Just ahead in all my work, bored stiff, the uzh," he answered proudly.
Lonnie saw a slight jerk at the corner of Matt's lips, and she feared whatever he was about to say. Since she'd started temping at Twit & Bell, she'd noticed that Matt and B.J. had an odd—and distinctly inequitable—relationship. B.J. seemed to be under the impression that Matt was his friend. At the same time, he looked up to him so much it bordered on pitiable, and Matt completely exploited it. Sometimes he'd act as if he and B.J. were close buddies, offering him advice about legal matters or women, and B.J. would desperately lap up the whole big-brother bit. Then, without hesitation, Matt would mock him right to his face, and B.J. would crack up like it was a shared joke.
Now Lonnie nervously anticipated Matt's response. But all he said was: "Man, how do you get your work done so fast?" Good, he was in schmoozer mode.
B.J. shrugged and said, "This stuff's wicked easy." He turned to Lonnie. "By the way, Miss I-Don't-Ever-Go-to-Happy-Hour, don't think I've forgotten about tomorrow night. Don't even think about not showing up."
She smiled feebly and forced a nod. Please, she didn't feel like going now! The reason she'd never gone to happy hour before was that she'd never wanted to spend her Friday night with the bizarre Twit & Bell crowd. TV movies and takeout Thai held a lot more appeal. Sure, she'd been coerced into agreeing during the staff meeting on Tuesday, but who takes anything that goes on in those meetings seriously? Or remembers it?
"By the way," Matt said, "you're coming to the holiday party on Monday night, right?" Undoubtedly he was making sure he'd have someone to be cynically miserable with that night, if that mood happened to strike him.
"Uh-huh," she replied, and focused some of her attention back on PowerPoint. "Are you kidding? You think I'm going to put the whole thing together and not go?"
"How many people are coming?" he asked. She gave him what she thought was a pretty accurate number, because she'd managed to confirm most of the guests coming Monday night. Except for Lyn Tang, who was reportedly "out of the office"
"I'd better not," she said, only mildly apologetic, because she knew that it was probably of little consequence to Matt whether or not she went to lunch. He was a quintessential schmoozer. When he wanted to, he could charm everybody, but he didn't seem to like anybody. In fact, the few times she had gone to lunch with him, she'd spent the whole time listening to him make fun of people. Granted, he was usually amusing, but she wasn't going to get behind on her work to catch his act. Now if it were Dominick, that would be another story.
Oh, why hadn't Dominick responded to her email? Okay, so she'd acted sort of weird at Rattlesnake. Was he going to hold a grudge forever? She'd asked him to go to happy hour with her on Friday night. Wasn't that compensation enough?
Fine, maybe not.
Probably not.
Slim-to-none chances, and when it came to men, her luck generally leaned toward bad.
"All right," Matt said. "Well, good luck with your work. Actually, is Twit even in? I haven't seen him today."
"Yeah, he's been holed up in his office all morning, but I fully expect him to come out and verbally abuse me anytime now."
"And call you 'Lola,' " Matt snorted. He glanced over his shoulder and muttered, "Oh, man, look who's coming this way." Lonnie looked past Matt's mocking sneer, and saw B.J. swaggering toward them. It was really a shame that B.J. had the kind of over-compensating personality that lent itself to ridicule, because in some ways, he reminded her of an over eager little kid.
"Hey, you two," B.J. called. "What's this little tête-à-tête about?" He stopped in front of Lonnie's desk, next to Matt, and flashed her a 100-watt smile. Now she felt really bad.
"Hi, B.J. How are you?" she asked.
"Just ahead in all my work, bored stiff, the uzh," he answered proudly.
Lonnie saw a slight jerk at the corner of Matt's lips, and she feared whatever he was about to say. Since she'd started temping at Twit & Bell, she'd noticed that Matt and B.J. had an odd—and distinctly inequitable—relationship. B.J. seemed to be under the impression that Matt was his friend. At the same time, he looked up to him so much it bordered on pitiable, and Matt completely exploited it. Sometimes he'd act as if he and B.J. were close buddies, offering him advice about legal matters or women, and B.J. would desperately lap up the whole big-brother bit. Then, without hesitation, Matt would mock him right to his face, and B.J. would crack up like it was a shared joke.
Now Lonnie nervously anticipated Matt's response. But all he said was: "Man, how do you get your work done so fast?" Good, he was in schmoozer mode.
B.J. shrugged and said, "This stuff's wicked easy." He turned to Lonnie. "By the way, Miss I-Don't-Ever-Go-to-Happy-Hour, don't think I've forgotten about tomorrow night. Don't even think about not showing up."
She smiled feebly and forced a nod. Please, she didn't feel like going now! The reason she'd never gone to happy hour before was that she'd never wanted to spend her Friday night with the bizarre Twit & Bell crowd. TV movies and takeout Thai held a lot more appeal. Sure, she'd been coerced into agreeing during the staff meeting on Tuesday, but who takes anything that goes on in those meetings seriously? Or remembers it?
"By the way," Matt said, "you're coming to the holiday party on Monday night, right?" Undoubtedly he was making sure he'd have someone to be cynically miserable with that night, if that mood happened to strike him.
"Uh-huh," she replied, and focused some of her attention back on PowerPoint. "Are you kidding? You think I'm going to put the whole thing together and not go?"
"How many people are coming?" he asked. She gave him what she thought was a pretty accurate number, because she'd managed to confirm most of the guests coming Monday night. Except for Lyn Tang, who was reportedly "out of the office"
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