Roll Against Regret (3d20) (6 page)

One by one, the desks around me emptied, and people called their goodnights to each other. Office lights clicked off, half the overheads dimmed, and the ambient chatter of phone calls faded. I’d made it more than halfway through my document list. It was only a mess because someone had sabotaged it, but I didn’t have the time to prove that and still finish before tomorrow.

As it was, I really might not make it to Jackson’s until three in the morning.

Tasha, Ryan, and his roommate Seth stopped at my desk. “You’re here late.” Tasha sounded sympathetic.

“Prepping for the audit tomorrow.” I couldn’t keep the exhaustion from my face. “How long have you known about it?” Come to think of it, why wasn’t she panicking and rushing to finish things last minute?

Tasha shrugged. “A couple of weeks.”

The information added another layer of tiredness to my brain. Maybe I’d actually missed the announcement. “I didn’t find out until today.”

She frowned and leaned forward, arms on the cubicle. “Kitner said he was handling it, or I would have told you. Gods, I’m so sorry.”

Of course he had. “Don’t worry about it. Karma’s a bitch, right?”

Ryan held his hand toward Tasha. “I rode in with Seth this morning. Are you okay to leave me your keys and go home with him?”

She handed them over without question. “Absolutely. You’re staying then?”

“I’m stubborn, not cruel. I’ll see you at home.” He kissed her on the cheek. It was the most obvious affection I’d ever seen between the two of them. Elders, I hoped Jackson and I could keep that. When he squeezed Seth’s hand too, I widened my eyes but kept my mouth shut. That was too tender a gesture to be between just roommates.

Seth and Tasha left, and Ryan dragged over the chair Carter had been using. “Tell me where you’re at, what you’re doing, and how I can help.”

“Why?” I shouldn’t be challenging the offer, but considering he’d all but ignored me until a few days ago and someone had helped Kitner set me up, I had to know.

“Because otherwise, you’ll be here for the rest of eternity?”

He was right, but it didn’t answer my question. “No. Why help me? I’m not dim. I know what I did, even though I didn’t mean to do it. You’re not the only one paying the price, and Tasha is struggling too.”

“Work shouldn’t be personal,” Ryan said, as if it were the most obvious statement ever. “Kitner makes it that, and he’s wrong. You shouldn’t have to pay the price for doing what was right.”

I scooted my chair aside, to let him see my screen. “I’m doing the most tedious task on the face of the planet. Now’s your last chance to back out.”

“Nope. He deserves to suffer as much as you shouldn’t have to. Give me the bottom half of what’s left.”

I grabbed the last sheet of paper from my folder and handed it over. “Thank you.” I didn’t spend time explaining what I needed—his job was the same as mine, he was familiar with the details.

“No worries.” Seconds later, I heard him sit at his own desk, and his mouse clicks joined mine.

My mind chewed on something while I worked, but I wasn’t sure what. It nagged at the back of my thoughts, trying to force its way past document comparison. Something about Ryan. What, though? Not that he was helping, though I definitely owed him lunch for that. And probably Tasha and Seth too.

My thoughts skidded to a stop, a mini loop playing over and over. Ryan saying he loved Tasha and S— It was Tasha and Seth. No. I shook the thought aside. People didn’t do things like that. Especially not Ryan. The entire reason Mark hated him was because he’d slept with Kitner’s ex-wife at some company party, years ago. Ryan was as completely hetero as anyone I’d ever met. And that meant Tasha…

I couldn’t wrap my brain around the logic. This wasn’t the time to puzzle over it, anyway. I dove back into my work and tried to obliterate my rambling curiosity, but it gnawed at me.

Ryan’s chair creaked, and seconds later, he stood in front of my cube, holding out a sheet of paper. “Next?”

I swapped out his lists, and couldn’t help studying him. Was I missing something? Not like it would be written on him somewhere, but I needed information he had.

He snapped his fingers. “What’s up?”

I shook my questions away. There was work to do. “Nothing.”

He dropped back into his seat, and clicking resumed. “It didn’t look like nothing. Do I have ink on my face?”

It was almost eight, so no one was left in the office. That meant, even though he sat several desks away, we could talk in a normal voice, without being overheard. “No. I was just thinking…”

“I figured.”

I worked while I dragged up words, operating on auto-pilot. “You and Seth are close?”

There was a long pause before he replied, hesitation in his voice. “We’re best friends. Besides, you live with a guy long enough…”

I knew where the unfinished thought was going, but I wanted confirmation of what was underneath, even if I didn’t know why it was so important to me. “But the whole hand-squeeze thing is more of an intimate gesture.”

He gave a short laugh. “You caught that.”

“Never before today.” I clicked open the next file and started the automated comparison.

A long silence filled the room. Had I pissed him off? I didn’t want that, and not just because he was helping. It was nice to finally be on speaking terms with him again.

I almost jumped when he finally replied. “Because it’s not something we tell anyone about. Hint, hint.”

All the pieces were in front of me, so why couldn’t I put them together? “I thought you and Tasha…” The puzzle formed and clicked. “All three of you? How’s that work?”

“Amazingly well.” He spoke so quietly I had to strain to hear him. “It takes twice as much work as a two-person relationship, but it’s worth it.”

“I completely get that.” Did I? I couldn’t imagine sharing Jackson with anyone. “I couldn’t ever do it, but I have total respect for it. Also, it’s just between us. I promise.”

“Thanks.” Relief lined his voice.

“You’re lucky you’ve got that.” Odd thing for me to say. That was a given, right? But then I realized what I meant. “I don’t think I could temper two people at once. And… do you worry about what people say?” Saying the words sent an unexpected rush of sadness through me, and I gasped at the sharp pain it left in its wake.

“There’s a reason we keep it quiet.”

My grief twisted another notch. “That must suck. To love them and not be able to shout it from the rooftops.”

“Really?” He sounded surprised. “You can’t imagine being in a relationship like that, but you can image proclaiming such a thing to the world. Walk a mile in my shoes, Zoe.”

“You’re right. But you’re still lucky.” Silence descended again, as we dove back into our work .The conversation still spun in the back of my head, but with my curiosity sated, I could ignore it for the most part.

****

It was almost midnight when I stepped into Jackson’s apartment. My brain might as well have been made of oatmeal, and I’d had to swap my contacts for glasses just to be able see on the drive.

Jackson looked up from his spot on the sofa and immediately shut off the TV. He crossed the room, wrapped me in a hug, and just held me. Elders, I loved that feeling.

“I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” His lips moved against my hair when he spoke.

I’d almost forgotten about that. Somehow the conversation with Ryan had taken up residence in my head instead. “It’s done. It’s over.” Though I meant the phone conversation with him earlier, I had to fight the compulsion to clarify that was all I meant. Weird.

He tugged me toward the couch, cringing when he extended his arm.

“Are you all right?” Concern filled me at the pain in his expression.

“I’m fine.” He rolled his neck, smile not masking his grimace. “I had a golf date with a prospective client today. Last minute, this afternoon. I think I pulled something in my neck.”

“Sit.” I knelt on a cushion and patted the spot next to me. After the day I had, it would be easy to give him crap for whining about having to spend the afternoon in the sun. But he didn’t like golf, he wasn’t actually complaining, and my bad day shouldn’t be his.

He positioned himself with his back to me, and I kneaded his neck and shoulders. He tilted his head forward with a happy groan. “You’re an angel, Pixie.”

The nickname was as comforting as the comment. Though neither of us spoke for several minutes, it was reassuring.

He reached back, grasped my hands, and pulled them forward. “Much better, thank you.”

I draped my arms over his shoulders, slid into a sitting position, and pulled him back into me.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“We already covered that. I forgave you.”

He shook his head. “I mean for last night.”

Did he have regrets? My doubt and confusion from earlier flooded back, free to roam now that I was in a safe place. Stupid feeling of security.

“Hear me out.” His sharp words interrupted my thoughts before they could gain momentum. “Last night was amazingly… Wow. I didn’t know it could be that good. I don’t mind sharing you, if you want to do that again. But what I said about you choosing—about me being okay with you going back to Carter over me? I’m not ever giving you up without a fight. I love you too much for that.” The gravelly possession in his words warmed me more than I thought possible.

“I meant it when I said I’d already chosen.”

He grasped my hands in his and held them in the middle of his chest. “I know. But you needed to hear that from me anyway.”

He was right. I did. We shifted positions until I was leaning against him. Elders, I was tired. And for the first time since Sunday night, I felt like everything was right with the world.

“Still”—Jackson’s single word threatened to shatter my calm—“it’s kind of a shame Dark is Carter. If he were just Dark, I wouldn’t mind seeing what else we could get up to. If you wanted.”

My eyes snapped wide open, exhaustion evaporating. Why did that statement wreak havoc on my entire body?

Seeing Mark’s door closed and his office light off the next morning filled me with giddiness. If there was an audit, he’d probably spend most of the day schmoozing with Zedophap representatives, instead of finding new ways to screw with the rest of us.

I still had deadlines, but the looming dark cloud of work that had been there all week felt lighter with him distracted otherwise. I shuffled through the messy stack of paperwork from last night’s cram session, straightening it out. I should probably put that back in order, in case Mark decided he wanted some additional kind of proof I’d done my work.

First, I fired off an email to Ryan, thanking him again and telling him I owed him and his friends lunch for ruining their night—he just had to name the time and place.

His reply arrived a few minutes later.
We’ll figure it out. Did you see those notes I made on the contracts versus invoicing last night? Nothing big. Thought you should take a look.

Weird. I shuffled through the paperwork, found the pages Ryan was talking about, and then pulled up the corresponding documents. He was right. At a glance, it wasn’t a big deal. Contracts had been archived with different dollar amounts on them than on the invoices, but they’d been adjusted since.

Except—I clicked through a few more cells in the spreadsheet—it wasn’t that simple after all. Something wasn’t right.

I heard rolling-chair wheels and the squeak of a seat, but it was background noise. I clicked through cells and pulled up additional invoices. There were a lot more than a normal project would involve, but that was because Zedophap had continuously upgraded along the way, adding more new features every couple of weeks.

Right?

“What are we looking at?” Carter’s question startled me.

My heart hammered into my throat, and I laughed at my own skittishness. I gave him my attention. The night before, with Jackson, made it easier to push aside my gut response to Carter, but it didn’t completely erase the desire that thrummed under my skin and kept my pulse racing even after the startled feeling faded. “Training you, unless you’re swooping away to another kick-off meeting or some other glamorous thing.” My curiosity about the files would have to wait.

“And next up on the docket is whatever has you so engrossed?”

I needed time to sort things out on my own. No reason to drag Carter down with me, if this was another nail in my job’s coffin. “Nope. Probably making sure I answer any questions you have about yesterday.”

“Zoe.” Carter’s sharp tone made me spin the rest of the way and meet his gaze. He kept his voice low. “You know you still can’t lie to save your life. Don’t you?”

I was seriously never-ever,
ever
again working with a guy I’d dated. “I was working late last night, cleaning up some files for today’s Zedophap audit. Found some unusual stuff I need to revisit later.”

“You should have called me. I would have come back after my meeting.”

Jackson’s jealousy flashed through my mind. “No. I couldn’t have. Leave it. Please?”

Carter clenched his jaw and slid his chair back a few inches. “You’re doing a good job of being vague about this considering it’s something I’m supposed to be learning. What’s going on?”

I nodded at the few files I had open on my screen, and scooted out of the way for him to look. “Tell me what you think of these. No context, beyond what you already know.”

I wasn’t trying to trick him. Carter had always been analytical, picking things apart ad infinitum. If there was something there, something that might trigger the auditors’ suspicions, I hoped he’d see it too. More, though, I wanted it to just be my imagination. To be able to put this document mess behind me and move on to the next obstacle.

He flipped back and forth several times, without saying a word. Seconds ticked into minutes, and my uneasiness grew. There was nothing there, was there? He’d already decided it was clean, and was making sure I wasn’t testing his knowledge?

He pushed back several feet, and stood. “I need caffeine. Is it too early to take a walk down to the gas station?”

A couple blocks from the office, there was a convenience store a lot of us used as an excuse when we needed a short break. At least he was learning his way around quickly. The idea calmed me. I liked that Carter fit in so easily.

That didn’t make his sudden request any less odd, though. “Let’s go,” I said anyway.

Neither of us spoke until we were outside and had cleared the parking lot. No one else was in earshot when Carter said, “What was I looking at? You saw something. What was it?”

He could have asked me that inside, if it were nothing. I hadn’t imagined it. “Someone’s embezzling money and using a bad string of record keeping on the Zedophap project, to cover their tracks.”

“So I didn’t imagine it.”

I would have been amused Carter’s words echoed my thoughts so closely, but the situation had sapped my humor.

“That explains why we’re being audited.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

“Which is why I need you to review your notes from yesterday. I’m not trying to brush you off. I need to focus on this.”

He grabbed my arm and spun me to a stop, so I was facing him. I inhaled sharply through my teeth at the arousal flooding me. A half-formed smirk twitched into place on his face and then disappeared. “Why would I let you tackle this alone?”

It took concentration to keep my voice steady. “I asked for a second opinion. I appreciate you giving me one. It wasn’t an invitation, though. You’re not familiar with the business. Even if I wasn’t worried about taking other people down with me, if this goes bad, you don’t know enough to help me root this out.”

He dropped my arm. “I knew enough to give you a second opinion.”

“The answer’s no.” I couldn’t budge on this.

“God damn it. You never used to be this stubborn.”

The words sparked an irritation I hadn’t know was there. “I don't know how many more ways I can tell you. I'm not that person. I'm not the Zoe I was five years ago.”

“I know you're not. I see it in everything you do and say. You've... ‘Changed’ isn't the right word. You've grown. You're not my Zoe anymore; you're Jackson's Pixie. Except you're not. You're your own person. Amazing. Strong. Standing on your own.”

The acknowledgment warmed me, but it didn’t solve any problems. “Then why do you keep doing this? Why do you keep comparing me to her?”

He turned away and started walking toward the gas station again. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I
do
worry about it, Carter”—I felt like stomping in the middle of the sidewalk—“Because you’re not stopping.”

He tilted his head back, as if only the sky had answers for him. “I keep doing it, because that Zoe loved me. I don’t even know if this one likes me very much.”

“I l—” My response choked off. I’d been about to say ‘like,’ right? “I like you just fine.”

He clenched his jaw and looked at me again. “Then let me help. I’m a second set of eyes. I don’t know what I don’t know when it comes to the policy structure here. You need to have an answer before the auditors find this, and two sets of eyes are better than one.”

“No.” I turned away. “Go back to your desk, work on your new client, and learn your job. Don’t touch mine.” I didn’t want to shut him out, but the alternative wouldn’t work. I’d relax, I’d let him in, and then we’d be back to awkwardness and jealousy and petty arguments about the past in the middle of gas-station parking lots, when things like jobs were on the line.

“What if I dig into things on my own?”

“I can’t stop you. But it doesn’t change my decision or win you any points. Or fix anything.” I didn’t stay to hear his answer. I was already walking back to the office, struggling to keep myself from feeling anything.