Page 9 of Ruled By Rivalry

“Considering what?”

“You know. Hooking up. Sleeping with him. Finally—”

“Nope.” My head shook as I sat straighter. “We work together.” And he’s trying to steal my job. She couldn’t know that part, but it still felt important enough to remind myself.

“People hook up with their coworkers all the time,” Paula argued.

“And how often does that work out?” I knew I’d got her when she shrunk back into the cushions, so I doubled down. “Hook up with your coworker once, and the next thing you know, you’re getting fired for an HR complaint.”

“But—”

“For having sex in a supply closet or scanning your ass on the printer. It’s risky—”

She officially gave up. “And you don’t do risks. I know. But come on, it’s Elliot Ashwood. And I’m trying really hard not to freak out about the fact you work with him now.”

I couldn’t help the laugh. “You’re not doing particularly well.”

“Elliot Ashwood, Maeve!” She must’ve thought that if she simply repeated his name often enough, reminded me of his pretty hair and prettier eyes one more time, I might change my mind. “Why aren’t you freaking out more?”

“He’s kind of a dick.” I shrugged. “Arrogant, selfish.”

“Maybe it comes with the money.” Paula tried not to smile and failed.

Every thought, every emotion, had always been displayed on her face, free for anyone to read and interpret. It was probably why I felt so at ease with her now—after unexpected twists and turns and a bunch of people I couldn’t read at all, getting Paula felt just as comforting as her presence in general.

“I was about to ask if your boyfriend’s like that too. But I know the answer.”

“Used to be, at least.” She snickered. “Hey, I bet they know each other, don’t you think? Growing up rich in New York? Same high school, maybe? Did Ashwood ever work with the Pressleys?”

Oh my God.

Her words hit like lightning, and I felt stupid for not connecting those dots sooner. They must’ve known each other. At the very least, Henry should know someone who knew Elliot. Someone who must’ve known why—

“Probably,” I said. Eager, suddenly. “Do you think you could find out? Maybe Henry knows someone who knows something. About why Elliot is really—”

“Hello!” Paula interrupted with a gasp, and the look on her face told me there was no need to go on before she added, “I’m a journalist. You had me at, Do you think you could find out?”

Clearly, she was delighted. Ecstatic. I love doing soccer profiles, but I kind of miss the intrigue and mystery of journalism. The next second, she had Henry on the line, and my heart soared when he said, “Yeah, know the Ashwoods fairly well. Why?”

Knowing why Elliot was at Adeline Ashwood—why he was trying to steal my job and pretending like that’s not exactly what he was up to—was the first step to figuring him out and beating him at his own game. I’d told myself to be better.

And I was well on my way to being the best they’d ever had.

Chapter 5

Being the best also entailed getting to the office first and, hopefully, leaving last. It meant already sitting in the meeting room when Elliot trailed in after Oliver Sheffield, his assigned head designer. It meant taking notes while he typed on his phone and listening more intently than he was.

Or, at least, looking like I was listening more intently.

Three days in, I managed all of the above—probably because there was nothing else to focus on so far. Following Camila’s instructions, I read through the documents already available for the Ashwood Annual, which were meant to prepare us for the meeting we were currently in.

In the same room I’d crashed into less than seventy-two hours ago. This time, it was marketing execs and project managers around the table, though. Not Hunter Ashwood, CEO of the company I was currently doing free labor for. A subtle shake of his head would probably be enough to get me escorted off the premises and banned from every Adeline Ashwood store in the world.

So, yes, his absence was a relief.

“Whispers of the Arcane just makes sense! It’s a broad enough theme to have actual variety on the carpet.” Oliver sent a pointed look at Camila. “Not everyone just wearing green and leaves in their hair.”

“There’s more to a nature-inspired theme than leaves, Oliver. If you can’t see that, I’m worried about your position as head designer,” she shot back. “And I think we should at least have a little faith in our guests—”