[...] 2. Faking It with Her Crush
Why?
Why do I get like this?
Why are the smallest things in life so freaking hard for me sometimes? Because ninety percent of the time, I am Capable Lucy. Reliable Lucy. The girl people bring their myriad problems to, with blind faith that I will come up with a solution. Then, once in a while, it’s like a switch gets flipped in my brain, and I wind up… here.
Breathing dust.

[...]
The replacement Mr Landry watches me from behind the desk, pale eyes intense. He’s so still. With floor-to-ceiling plants behind him, he’s like a panther in the foliage.

[...] 1. Dancing with the Enemy
“They went in another direction,” Jude says airily, blunt fingers tapping on the only clear patch of his desk. There could be rodents living in that mound of office supplies for all we know. A whole tiny civilization, with a network of tunnels through the bedrock of printouts and binder files. “A cheaper direction. If Pretzel can’t afford quality, that’s hardly my problem, is it Violet? Or would you have halved your fee for them?” He winces with pity, shaking his head. “There’s no need to be desperate. Know your worth! Your last video was almost good”.

[...] 3. Tangling with the Boss
And meanwhile, a crack splinters through my chest, pain searing my insides. See, this is why I’m leaving. It’s self preservation, that’s all, because I deserve to find a man who likes me. A man who’s thrilled by my bouncy attitude and who can’t get enough of my chatter. Hell, even just a boss who’ll tolerate my presence without wincing.

[...]
Why?
Why do I get like this?
Why are the smallest things in life so freaking hard for me sometimes? Because ninety percent of the time, I am Capable Lucy. Reliable Lucy. The girl people bring their myriad problems to, with blind faith that I will come up with a solution. Then, once in a while, it’s like a switch gets flipped in my brain, and I wind up… here.
Breathing dust.

[...]
I love numbers.
Numbers are concrete. Absolute. They tell a clear story, and if you can read them, you can make sense of the world.
This world, anyway. The world of accounts and spreadsheets and frazzled clients calling us on the phone, asking us to explain every single charge on their invoices. Numbers are armor.

[...] FIXER UPER
This is a monumental effort to let her shoulder and take a step back, cool air breaks down where the warmth of her body warmed me. I feel blunt pain in my chest, headache squeezing the temples, but it makes no sense to want the company of this girl. She owes me nothing. It doesn't matter that it was the most human, which I have felt for months.

[...] FIXER UPER
And I think Luis would be pleased that we found ourselves, that two lost souls found consolation and became one. It sounds crazy, but that's how it feels.

[...] I Spy
Lesson pulled out. Nothing comes in this life for free, and as soon as I finish my studies, I will never make this mistake again. My family can take their connections, wealth and aspirations to social promotion and push them where the butler cannot vacuum them.

[...] I Spy
It is so out of place in this room that it's like seeing a parrot among pigeons. And when he catches my eye ... Fuck, it brightens like the fourth July. He smiles wider, blushes harder and fidget on his office chair, squeezing his legs under the table, where I can see them.
I've never seen anything like that. I never felt anything like that. The view of this girl is like a lightning strike, even on a clean, sunny day, like today.

[...] Dared By My Roommate
It’s humbling. You can spend your whole adult life thinking of yourself as a decent man, a bit rough around the edges, maybe, but basically fine. Certainly not someone any girl should worry about. And then your shy, sweet roommate flinches every time you enter the room, and it all comes crumbling down, and you feel like the worst piece of shit after all.

[...] Dared By My Roommate
-Okay - Lincoln raps on the cracked wood. - Home?
Home.
Yeah.
The thing is… I’m already home whenever I’m around him.

[...]
-Don’t stay in the sun for too long,- I warn, kneading her right thigh.
-Bossy,”-Maisie says, her lips curving in a smile.
She likes it. Likes me fussing over her, making sure she’s well fed and hydrated and gets plenty of sleep. Plenty of other things, too. Speaking of which… .

[...]
“They went in another direction,” Jude says airily, blunt fingers tapping on the only clear patch of his desk. There could be rodents living in that mound of office supplies for all we know. A whole tiny civilization, with a network of tunnels through the bedrock of printouts and binder files. “A cheaper direction. If Pretzel can’t afford quality, that’s hardly my problem, is it Violet? Or would you have halved your fee for them?” He winces with pity, shaking his head. “There’s no need to be desperate. Know your worth! Your last video was almost good".

[...]
-You know why.
Yeah. I do.
Because Leo and I both came from shitty, broken families with parents that hated each other and us. Because we’ve seen firsthand how impossible love is, how it’s all such a fairy tale, and we each vowed not to put ourselves through that pain again. Not to bring any more kids into it, either.
But that was then. Before Lucy. Before spending another decade in the world, and seeing it’s not all black and white. There are shades of gray; there’s room for nuance. Almost nothing is all good or all bad, except for that prim little accountant, who came straight down from heaven.
-Things change,- I say.

[...]
-Darius.-He inhales sharply when I take his hand, my thumb rubbing back and forth on his palm.
-Maybe I’m not the only one who needs practice.
The composer chokes out a laugh, like he can’t believe this is real.
-You’d do that for me? Figure things out as we go?
And oh, this beautiful dumbass. Fighting a smile, I place my other hand on his chest, slipping my fingertip beneath his shirt again. “Obviously. How do you think everyone else does it? Do you think there’s a secret manual?
Darius hums, head lowering. - No?.

[...]
If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. And if you don’t want thousands of tourists to descend on your golden beaches, don’t pander to ‘em.
I think we’re doing just fine.

[...]
Sometimes, I wonder how things could have been different. What might have happened if I washed up in a different town, got rescued by someone else. I don’t think those thoughts for long, though—they make me shiver. Nope. No, thank you.
Because one thing’s for sure.
I picked the right rowboat.

[...]
She’s different. Eight years without seeing a person will do that, I guess. My childhood best friend is older, calmer—and curvier too. Hot damn. She stands differently than she used to, with her chin held high and her shoulders back. My Alba used to inch behind me whenever we met strangers.

[...]
At least it got Alba here, right? Got us back in the same geographic location. Now all I have to do is convince this whip-smart, funny, gorgeous woman that being with me would be worth all the media madness. That I could be good for her, finally. I could make her proud.

[...]
-I do, -Alba says, brown eyes twinkling at me as she smiles. My heart gives an almighty thump, and Lindsay blows her nose with a loud hoot.
-I now pronounce you man and wife. You may kiss the bride.
About. Goddamn. Time.

[...]
Picture this: deep tan, shoulder length brown hair, serious creases around his eyes. Scruff on his jaw and thick, dark eyebrows lowered in concentration. When he cooks, he goes to some inner reservoir of calm, and it’s beautiful. A sensual dance with the flash of knives.

[...]
-I’m working incredibly hard,” I say.
And it’s true: I’m working hard to torment her.
To win her.
To make her feel as jumbled up and lost as I do; to make sure I’m not in this alone.

[...]
-So you’re going to stay with me for a while?- The mugs clink in my hand as I shift. -Until your memory comes back?
She shrugs.
-If you’ll let me.
Lether? Ha. It’s no hardship, believe me.
The hard part will be letting her go.

[...]
The chef leans against the bar, relaxed again, his expression smooth, but he’s not looking at us. He’s reading something in his palm, blue light washing over his sharp cheekbones.
My fucking phone.
I swear to god, that thing is going in the trash. I’m getting a landline. No—walkie talkies. Tin cans on a string. If people want to reach me, they’ll have to stand outside the house and throw pebbles at my bedroom window.
-Stop,” I beg, leaning hard against the bar, but I don’t try to snatch the phone back this time. Instead, I watch and wait and die of shame as Andre reads my whole freaking letter, taking his sweet time, then reads Dear Hattie’s reply.

[...]
-Falafel again?- I nod at her tote bag as she places it on the desk, some mystery wrapper rustling inside.
-You’re a sucker for those coupons.
-Aaaand there goes your free bite.-Violet grins, shifting in her chair until it squeaks. -Now who’s the sucker? Hope you enjoy your crappy little ham sandwich for lunch.
Excuse me? - I made that!
Violet grins wider. -Exactly.
And I hope we never stop sparring. Hope these sparks never, ever die out.
My wife is the best enemy I ever had.

[...]
A jaka fałszywa randka ?
Okazuje się, że żadne z nas nie jest dobrym aktorem, bo mieliśmy na myśli każde gorące spojrzenie, każdy taniec, każdy dotyk. Oboje udawaliśmy, że to nie jest prawdziwe, podczas gdy umieraliśmy w środku, pokręceni tęsknotą. Co za para.
And what fake date?
Turns out neither of us are good actors, because we meant every heated look, every dance, every touch. Both of us pretended it wasn’t real while dying on the inside, contorted with longing. What a pair we are.

[...] 1. Grump Gone Wild
-No,”-Sebastian declares, stern eyes fixed on an ink stain on my cuff. -I need it to be you, Felicity. I’ll coach you.
Oh, great. Learning all the ways I don’t measure up for this man? Sounds like pure torture.
Because the Bamfords are old money. Country clubs and race horses and private vineyards—that kind of money. And I have raspberry streaks in my hair and a tattoo of my ancient cat Rusty on my wrist. My bus pass has seen more action than my credit card.

[...] 2. Grump Gone Bad
Emmett smiles wider.
-We’ll figure it out.
Oh my god. He’s enjoying this, isn’t he? Relishing the chaos he’s created. This man is my exact opposite in every way.
Because I’m a rule follower. A good girl. I never miss a deadline, and I always arrive ten minutes early for my appointments. I walk the same route to work, use the same laundry detergent, and watch the same TV shows, day in and day out.
This man is a controlled explosion. He’s a detonation on legs.

[...] 3. Whole Lotta Grump
It’s always strange coming here. Strange walking into any of my clients’ offices, frankly. Like visiting another planet. So many of these big, powerful CEOs are stressing themselves into an early grave, and though I’ll certainly try to help, I couldn’t relate to anyone less.
What’s the point of all this, you know? What’s it all for? A few extra zeroes on a screen?
Please. They should try the waffle truck in the downtown city park. Now that’s something worth selling your soul.