Page 17 of Ruled By Rivalry

There was only one thing more captivating than the atmosphere, and that was watching him. The way he carried himself with such confidence, knowing that just by holding two fingers up toward the bar, he could get the exact drink he wanted in record time. Elliot Ashwood understood the power he held, and he wasn’t modest enough to avoid using it.

Eventually, I remembered, he’d use that advantage for more than just ordering drinks or getting us into fancy places. He’d steal my job.

“You’re impressed,” he noted, and my eyes snapped from the bar back to him. “So you really haven’t been on many dates, then.”

I pretended to give up with a roll of my eyes. For this plan to work, I had to let my guard down so that he would do the same. Admitting I hadn’t dated much was just vulnerable enough to get the job done.

“No, I haven’t.” Leveling him with a look, I added, “Thanks for asking—or, well, assuming.” I raised my hands like I was guilty as charged. “Single for the past twenty-two years.”

Low whistle as he looked almost impressed. “I should feel honored, then.”

“For hanging out with a girl who doesn’t want you?” This time, it didn’t matter how hard I tried to suppress my smile; I failed. Because I needed to appear like I was opening up.

“Yes, that,” he said. “I guess I’m just another one of those guys you’re not letting yourself get taken out by.”

“What makes you think there’s lots of those?” Our drinks appeared between us, and we both thanked the waiter simultaneously. Pinkish liquid in a coupe glass, perfect sugar rim and a cherry on top.

“Come on, Maeve.” He snickered, eyes back on me. “This isn’t the place for false modesty, and I’m not the man for it either.”

“I mean, sure. People asked me out. But they weren’t, like, lining up outside my house. It wasn’t that many.”

Leaning back to take a sip of his drink, he must’ve deemed my explanation honest enough. All Elliot said was “College kids aren’t known to be the brightest.”

“You’re a college kid.” I raised my brows as I brought the glass to my lips. “You graduated a few weeks ago—oh my God.”

The plan had been to avoid giving him the satisfaction of admitting his great taste. But the surprised moan that slipped out between the first sip and the second probably gave me away.

Proud grin, I-told-you-so look on his face. “Good, right?”

And there was no point in denying it. I nodded too vehemently, judging by the way that grin deepened, dimples making an annoyingly cute entrance.

“Nobody liked me in my college years until I came up with that recipe, and it’s still the bestselling drink at all our locations.” He shrugged, words laced with pride. “One of those fun facts you won’t find googling me, by the way.”

“Oh, there’s definitely enough about the whole alcohol thing.” It slipped out. Kind of. Not really.

After the way I’d brought up his leaked video the other day, I didn’t expect my loose tongue to surprise him anymore. But he blinked at me, not quite sure what to retort, which felt like a small win in itself.

Challenge accepted, his head tilt said, and the air around us shifted in the same way. To make it official, he brought his glass to his lips and drained the whole thing, placing it between us with a thud. “So, what changed your mind, Maeve?” he asked, all traces of humor gone. “About this.”

My own drink went down like juice. Dangerous, when I needed myself to slow down and Elliot to speed up.

“It’s like you said. We’ll be spending a lot of time together. There shouldn’t be any animosity between us.” Lying through my teeth, of course. There was always going to be animosity between us—as long as we were both fighting for the same job. “Right?”

“Right.” He glanced across his shoulder, holding up two fingers until the bartender acknowledged his order with a nod. When his blue eyes cut back to me, I hadn’t been prepared for the intensity in his gaze. Or that unexpected eye contact could send a shiver down my spine.

“I didn’t know they’d make us work this closely,” he said. Which seemed awfully close to a confession—like he felt guilty about the fact and would love to change it.

At least he seemed to be lying through his teeth as well.

“Of course.” I didn’t try to sound very convinced, though. “Just like you didn’t know they’d make us compete for that job at the end.” I smiled sweetly, and it took everything in me to sell it. “How could you?”

The second round of drinks appeared between us, cutting the veil of tension we’d wrapped around ourselves. I immediately reached for mine, mostly to encourage him. And because uncomfortable situations always made me clutch my glass like a lifeline.

His lips had already parted for a reply, and he was playing with his own glass too. Tracing the base, finger absentmindedly trailing all the way up to the rim. “You don’t—”

A loud “Elliot!” cut him off.

Double takes. Hushed whispers. A gasp.