Missed Connections (31 page)

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Authors: Tamara Mataya

BOOK: Missed Connections
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“You’ve had a crush on me for years?” He looks way too pleased.

I stretch up and kiss the happy grin off his face. “I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too.” His eyes are tender as he flips us over and pulls my feet over his shoulders.

Who he is
inside
is what really matters to me.

But I love when he does
this
too.

Epilogue

I blot my sweaty palms on my black A-line skirt, feeling tragically unhip compared to the leggy receptionist in next year’s Blahniks who showed me into Melanie’s office five minutes ago. The scent of stale coffee and correction fluid hits the back of my throat as I inhale deeply and sneak another glance at the clock on the wall.

The door opens behind me. “Sarah?”

I stand and turn, heart pounding. I need this job. “Yes.”

She’s about my age. Trim but curvy. Her glossy brunette hair is twisted into a bun, but the severe style only showcases her classic bone structure and high cheekbones. She’s striking even with minimal makeup. She looks up from the stack of papers and holds her hand out. “I’m Melanie.”

I shake her hand, glad I blotted mine a moment ago. “Nice to meet you.”

“Have a seat.” Melanie slides into her chair behind the desk and appraises me. Her eyes are a fascinating shade somewhere between yellow and green and framed with thick, black eyelashes. “Thanks for being early.”

“Lateness is a pet peeve of mine.”

She smiles. “Blake said you were working reception at a spa?”

I nod.

“Sorry to say that there won’t be any chanting or”—she waves her hand dismissively—“tea leaf readings around here.”

“Thank God.” The words fly out of my mouth before I can stop them. I cringe, but she laughs.

“You weren’t into that New Age business?” She pronounces
New Age
so it rhymes with sewage.

No job is worth putting myself through another Inner Space. The few days away have given me time to decompress and realize that the things Fern and Ziggy did to me were shitty, but they’re not bad people. For someone who’s into the same philosophy they are, working with them would be a dream come true. Maybe that’s not quite right—but it definitely wasn’t the place for me, and I shouldn’t have stayed as long as I did. Some people aren’t completely bad; they’re just terrible to work for. I can’t subvert myself for a job—it’s not worth it. Never again. So I swallow and decide to tell the truth. “Not at all. Don’t get me wrong. People should be able to believe whatever they want to, but they ran things a little too casually there for my tastes.”

“We run a pretty tight ship here at H2T. What were your responsibilities at Inner Space?”

“All the front end. Booking, billing, scheduling, bookkeeping, filing, archiving. Light cleaning. I made up all the rooms between clients, did all the dishes and laundry.”

She looks down, and I notice she’s focused on my résumé. “You’re a paralegal? No wonder you were bored there.”

“You caught that?”

Her lips quirk into a grin. “Four years as head of human resources? I’m pretty good at reading people. I’m not going to ask why you want to work here. If the stories Blake told me when he recommended you for the job are true, then it’s no wonder you wanted out.”

“I don’t want to speak poorly about a former employer, but…well, chances are, you wouldn’t believe me anyway. But Blake’s a good guy. He’ll have told you the truth.”

“Blake’s a great guy.” Her cheeks redden slightly, and she shifts in her chair.

Wait a second. “Are you two…?” I ask before common sense kicks in.

Luckily, she isn’t offended. “What? No. He’s just my big brother’s best friend. We keep in touch via email, the odd call. There’s nothing there. He hasn’t even seen me in years.” She tucks a few stray hairs behind her ears and picks at some invisible lint on her sleeve.

Methinks she doth protest too much.
“He and I are just friends too.”

She sits up a little taller, and I know I’ve said the right thing. Melanie is majorly into Blake. Maybe I can invite them to Jack’s club one night and see if I can nudge them closer together.

“At some point, I might employ your paralegal skills, but that’s not what the job is. We have a somewhat voyeuristic column here, where New Yorkers write in and tattle on one another. Sort of like personal ads, but with a twist. It’s called ‘I Saw You.’ You’d be going through the mail entries and the online submissions forms, choosing the most exciting and readying them for publication. Is that something you think you’re up for?”

I can’t wait to tell Jack. I grin. “Something tells me I’d be perfect for it.”

* * *

As soon as I told him about the job, Jack laughed at how suited I was for it—and offered himself as a slush reader if I need an assistant. We both still read Missed Connections; only now, we read them together while snuggling. Now, I’ll basically get paid to do the same thing!

When he was done teasing me, Jack kissed me, slowly and deeply, and asked what I wanted to do to celebrate.

I told him to take me to the hottest club in New York—his.

The line stretching down the block makes me disgustingly smug. I love that I was right about Frisk being the next big thing. I squeeze Jack’s hand. “I’m proud of you.”

He closes his eyes and presses his forehead to mine. “Thank you.”

“I mean it. You worked your ass off for this.” And he did. He’s been telling me all the behind-the-scenes responsibilities—and seeing his phone blow up with work-related issues cements how much of his time goes into the business and how hard he works. Despite that, he’s taking the night off to stay by my side.

It’s only been six days, but we’ve been inseparable. Jack feels like home.

The cab pulls up to the curb outside the club.

“We’re not going to leave until you’re sick of dancing. And then?” Jack kisses the sensitive spot just below my ear. “Remember that night I bent you over my counter and—”

“Oh God, I remember.”

He chuckles, hands some cash to the driver, and leads me from the cab. I feel like a movie star as we stroll past the line, heading straight for the door. Pete’s meeting us inside with a few more of our friends. People look on, suspicious and envious that we get to bypass the lengthy wait.

But just outside the doors, I hold back. “Blake said he’d meet us here.”

Jack nods. “The doorman’s waving at me. I’ll be right back.” He kisses my cheek and heads to the entrance to be the boss.

I love when he does that.

It’s funny. I thought I’d feel some confusion or residual attraction for Blake, but there’s nothing. Jack being my Missed Connection feels like winning the lottery. There’s no room for regret.

Besides, Jack’s more my type than Blake. I invited Blake to Frisk tonight because him getting me an interview with Melanie is the reason we’re all out celebrating.

I wave when I see him, and he heads over to me. “Hey, Blake. Thanks for coming.”

He smiles. “Like I’d turn down an invitation to Frisk. Have you heard about this place?”

“Oh, one or two things.” I grin. “For real, though, thank you for getting me in at H2T.”

“You got yourself in. Mel’s tough but fair. She wouldn’t hire you just because I pointed you in her direction.”

“Yeah, she definitely doesn’t strike me as a pushover.”

Jack’s still dealing with…whatever. We could head in, but I want to wait for him. I remember the way Melanie blushed while talking about Blake. “So, feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but did you and Melanie ever go out?”

Blake shakes his head. “Mel? Nope, she’s just my best friend’s kid sister. We practically grew up together. It’s been a while since I’ve seen her, not that that’s a bad thing. She’s a total pain in the ass, but don’t tell her I said—”

“Fancy meeting you guys here.” A hand snakes over my shoulder, and I reflexively shrug it off when I see who it belongs to.

“Phyllis.” I spit the word out like it tastes bad.

She raises her eyebrows at me, then smiles at Blake. “Looks like the gang’s all here.”

My head whips around. “Ziggy and Fern are here?”

Phyllis rolls her eyes. “No, just me and some friends.” She waves at the snooty women a few feet back in the line. “How have you been doing, Sarah? Find another job yet? I hear it’s a jungle out there.”

“I’ve been doing fine, thanks.”

She smirks. “I’m sure. Fern and Ziggy have been telling people that you moved back in with your parents because you were having a hard time dealing with things.”

So much for Fern and Ziggy being good people. The urge to brag about my new job and Jack rises, but I press my lips together. She’s trying to bait me, but it’s not going to work.

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” Blake says, flashing his dimples my way.

“Are you two here together?” Phyllis’s eyes narrow.

Blake puts an arm over my shoulders. “I couldn’t turn down her invitation.”

“Wow.” Phyllis stands taller.

“Everything all right here?” Jack steps up to my other side.

Blake leans across me, but I see his wink. “Sarah and I were talking to Phyllis.”

Phyllis’s gaze ping-pongs between Jack and Blake, like she can’t decide who’s hotter.

Jack’s eyes light up.

Uh-oh.

He slides his left arm across my lower back so now I’m sandwiched between him and Blake. “Is that right?”

Phyllis licks her lips. “Sarah and I were work buddies at Inner Space.”

My eye twitches, tension rolling through my body, but the boys crowd a little closer to me.

She leans in. “So, you guys are…”

Blake bites his lip. “We’re going to have an amazing time.”

“Damn right we are.” Jack grabs my hand and kisses the back of it.

“They’re
both
with you?”

I nod at the incredulity in her tone. Man, she’s hard to be friendly to.

Phyllis’s eyes are bugging out now. “We should totally sit together inside.”

I could get her inside now, but maybe I’m enjoying this too much. She thinks I’m screwing both of these hot men—maybe at the same time.

And I love Blake just a little bit for laying it on thick.

I should be the bigger person and get her in the club. Let bygones be bygones.

But then she leans in with a wink. “We can tell the boys about the time you spelled my name wrong.”

“You know what, Phyllis?” Jack says. “We won’t be sitting together because there’s no way in hell I’d ever let you into my club.”


Your
club?” She makes a face like she doesn’t buy it.

“Yup. I’ll be sure to tell my guys at the door not to let you in. And you be sure to give my regards to your friends—who also aren’t welcome.” He nods at Blake, and they turn us and stride to the door where Jack does exactly what he promised. I can’t resist glancing back to see the shock and regret on Phyllis’s face.

I should feel worse about her not getting in.

But I don’t.

If she’d treated me better, I might have invited her. If Jack hadn’t heard all about the shitty things she’d done to me, maybe he’d have let her in. But I’m sort of glad Jack and Blake closed ranks around me.

Okay, I’m
ecstatic
about it.

Neither of the boys releases me until we get inside out of sight.

“Sorry, Sarah,” Blake says. “I shouldn’t have done that, but—”

I hold up my hand. “No apologies. Did you see her face? God, it feels like Christmas.”

Blake nods at Jack. “I wasn’t trying to overstep with you either.”

Jack shakes Blake’s hand. “You’re VIP for life, man. That chick is such a—”

“Pain in the chakra?” I supply.

Our smiles last all the way to the VIP section.

Acknowledgments

For all the bosses—the good, the bad, and the hippies.

I’ve worked for amazing people, amazingly bad people, and everything in between. This book had slivers of my own work experience with bosses in all kinds of industries—padded with a lot of fictionalization for comedic sake. The takeaway shouldn’t be that New Age modalities are bad but that staying true to yourself is the real path to happiness.

Eternal gratitude to my fabulous agent, Nicole Resciniti, for her unflagging support and infallible advice. You’re more than an agent; you’re my friend.

To Mary Altman and everyone at Sourcebooks, you’re my people! You’ve been nothing short of amazing to work with, and you deserve raises and massages. Steer clear of Phyllis. ;)

Thanks to my family for being the quirky delights who keep me striving to be better—and for always loving me for who I am.

Jessa Russo, I mean, here we are again, me trying to encapsulate everything I appreciate and love about you into the back of a book and failing. My love for you can’t be squished into puny, little words. Hearts aren’t big enough. I love you with all my butt. <3

Cait Greer, what the hell would I do without you?! Let’s
never
find out! Love you more than sateen!

People who made this book so much better—or perked me up when I needed it most: Rosey, Amanda, Brandi, Lydia, Sara, Melissa, Suzy G, Jasmine.

To Amber and Heather, for the flails and laughs and snarkiness when I needed it most.

The Naturals: Laurelin Paige, Sierra Simone, Melanie Harlow, Geneva Lee, Kayti McGee.

To Angie McLain (and Jenna Tyler of Fangirl Book Blog) who are
always
there for me without fail. I wish more people were like you. Angie, your love of books and
huge
heart are so unique and important in this life. The sheer amount of work you put into promoting authors is
so
appreciated. Thank
you
!

Full-body hugs to everyone who reads my books and leaves a review. Thank you, thank you, thank you for spreading the word and letting us authors (and other readers) know you care. <3

For my hippie-free colleagues at the library, your support means the world. Our patrons are the best.

About the Author

Tamara Mataya is a
New York Times
and
USA Today
bestselling author, a librarian, and a musician with synesthesia. Armed with a name tag and a thin veneer of credibility, she takes great delight in recommending books and shushing people. She puts the
she
in That’s What She Said and the
B
in LGBTQIA+.

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