“So you want to look like a Smurf?” She laughs at me and I hear a few more chuckles from behind me. I don’t have to look to know the other girls are enjoying this.
“What do you care?” I meet her gaze and she looks taken aback by my question. Or maybe it’s because I’m actually challenging her. I wish Rie were here. She’d be cheering me on.
“I was just nicely trying to let you know it’s not a good look on you.” She narrows her eyes at me as if giving me a silent warning not to mess with her.
I don’t want to mess with her. I want to be left alone. They are the ones that aren't getting that message.
“Well, I didn’t ask if you liked it so keep your opinions to yourself.” I stand up from my desk, open my bottom drawer, and grab my bag. I’m going to enjoy my lunch date with Blaze and put this out of my mind. I’m nervous and excited about it all at once and I’m not going to let her sour my mood.
“Are you really this pissed about the costume joke?” She gives me another one of her eyerolls and it’s then I see she has a folder in her hand. I’m guessing there’s something she wants me to do for her, which is the same something that would have me working through my lunch for her.
“You guys lied to me and did nothing when I caught on fire.” I want my words to have more power to them but they don’t. I can’t help the hurt that bleeds through and I don’t understand how people can be so mean to one another.
She starts to respond but I walk away, not listening to her. I’m sure I’ll get her two cents when I get back but she’s not worth it.
I walk to the front doors to meet up with Blaze, but my excitement fades when I see Mike standing there. His eyes are tracking me and I know there’s no escaping him. I dodged him this morning before I ducked into the bathroom. Now he’s right in my path with a smirk on his lips.
Dang it. He comes right toward me, getting into my personal space and making me feel uncomfortable. I really have to find a new job.
Chapter Eight
Blaze
“Rosabelle,” I say again to the woman at the desk. She’s not looking up from her computer and it’s not exactly the best customer service.
Rosabelle told me she worked at a call center and it was nothing fancy. I got here a little early and thought I could go see where her desk is, but apparently the receptionist doesn’t know who I’m talking about.
She clicks away on her keyboard and my frustration begins to build. I walk away from the desk to look down the hall and see if I can spot her. Blue hair can’t be that common in a room that’s almost entirely beige.
It’s one gigantic open room with cubicles throughout. There’s a row of windows on one side, but other than that it’s fluorescent lighting with nothing worth looking at. It’s a little depressing as my eyes scan the room and I think about being trapped in here all day long. I couldn’t do it, but maybe some people don’t like being outdoors.
Just then I see a shock of blue hair coming around the corner, but then it stops. Ignoring the unhelpful woman at the desk, I walk through the doorway and down the side of the room so I can get a better look. I’m almost around the corner to where she is when I hear her voice.
“Excuse me, Mike. I’m running late.”
“Where you headed off to?” Mike asks.
I’m surprised by the jealousy that hits me, but I guess meeting her the way I did made me feel protective of her from the start.
“An appointment.” She sounds irritated and my eyebrows draw together. Is she annoyed she has to meet me or because she has to talk to this guy?
“I like the new look.” Mike’s voice is low and smooth and I involuntarily clench my fist at my side. “What are you doing after work? Why don’t you come by my place and watch me workout?”
My anger swells to the point that there’s a ringing in my ears and I have no choice but to step out from around the corner. As soon as I do, I see Rosabelle looking up at him and the instant I see how uncomfortable she is, I go to her. It’s then I realize the guy she is talking to is the shirtless douchebag from the park.
“Blaze,” she calls when she sees me and I watch her face transform from worry to utter relief and that does everything to calm my insecurities.
“Hey, beautiful,” I say, and without a second of hesitation I open my arms and wrap her up in them.
I watch her cheeks flush with color, but I don’t care. I can’t wipe the grin off my face or describe how damn good she feels in my arms.
I hear Mike clear his throat, but lions don’t wait for sheep to tell them what to do.
“Miss me?” Those big brown eyes of hers are so soft
