Positioning: An Enemies-to-Lovers Office Romance by Rebecca Kinkade

Author:Rebecca Kinkade [Kinkade, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-06-28T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter 21: Art

“Zelos,” I said as I scribbled in my notebook, pressing too hard with my pen as I underlined the word. “Zelos. The software solution for…nobody. For literally nobody. Why is this so hard?”

I sighed and checked my watch. Ella had been in the testing center for over four hours, which meant she would be done soon. Finally.

For the last four hours, I had been sitting in this La Colombe across the street, working through a steady stream of almond milk lattes. I probably looked like a goddamn NYU student—an abject nightmare of an idea. I had slept with at least a dozen women who had gone to NYU, and all of them had tried to spend the night—which I took as an indication that the cost of tuition was way too high there, and it was cheaper to sleep with me than it was to splurge on a livable apartment.

Out of some habit, I picked up my phone and flipped over to the Radar app. I opened it. I’d gotten a few more messages since last week, all from gorgeous women who were equally thrilled to see my gorgeous face on this app. I scanned through a few, reading messages that all fell on the spectrum of “fucked up” to “fucked all the way up.” In other words: my kind of night.

But there was this foreign feeling of discontent as I looked through the pictures of these women. Irrational standards that I had never held before started to creep into my thoughts. This one? Too smiley. This other woman? Too many bikini pics. Her? Impressively large boobs, but maybe not what I was into right now.

I closed the app after that. I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t a guy who judged women like that, for what they wore and what they did. I had seen my father do that too many times—distilling our nannies and au pairs and the women he cheated on my mother with into these minute characteristics. Big breasts. A good ass. A great mouth. A virgin. No, I loved women. If I couldn’t look at them without picking them apart, I wouldn’t let myself look at them.

Luckily, Ella appeared on the sidewalk outside of La Colombe and Radar was suddenly the last thing on my mind. I waved at her, like some kind of human golden retriever. Jesus. I needed to get my head together. But it was hard when she looked so damn nice all the time. The worst part was that I couldn’t even be frustrated about that. I liked that she always looked so put together—that she sat there in front of a mirror and painstakingly matched her earrings to her necklaces to her purse, even on the day of the GMAT. I liked it because it mattered to her—that there was something about it that delighted her.

She breezed into the coffee shop, looking bright and beautiful as always, even after four hours of testing. Her long hair

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