There are two types of pain.
One that hurts you,
and one that changes you.

.

.

Thanks to:
Di, my editor,

Paige, Aileen, and Renee, my prereaders.

Stupid Little Game
Chapter 12

I was making notes for an autumn themed post on the Luxe account when I became aware of voices behind me. An annoying high-pitched giggle and a low monotone.

Edward and Tanya.

For the past month, Edward had made a point of swinging by Tanya's desk almost daily to engage her in work chat. And while I knew what he was doing and why, I couldn't help but feel resentful that he had to humor her so poor her wouldn't feel overlooked.

I didn't know what I thought would happen after I'd clued him in, but I hadn't expected him to cater to her. She'd hinted at doing something awful to him and his reputation, and he was rewarding her for it by giving her attention?

But maybe my real resentment stemmed from the fact that Edward had taken a step back from me in the process. Not that he'd been constantly in my space before, but now it was pure radio silence. Never in a million years would I have thought I'd miss being noticed by him, or the stimulation of our conversations. But I did, and was curiously bereft.

Turning my head to the side, I saw Edward bent over Tanya's desk, his arm moving as he pointed to something on his iPad. As Tanya's head moved close to his, I saw Edward flinch slightly, then slowly straighten.

He was trying, but he wasn't liking it.

It made me sad. Made me mad. Was he really stupid enough to be led around by the nose by someone threatening to go to HR? Was he going to kowtow to Tanya's insecurities indefinitely? Why couldn't he just call her bluff and report her? She was a cantankerous coworker who'd planned to start trouble, simply because she thought he'd shown too much interest in me and not enough in her.

And after demonstrating such interest in my work, was he now going to ignore me? If so, wouldn't that be noticeable as well?

Alice, who seemed to pick up on everything, was also perplexed.

"Edward's taken a step back from you, I see. He's letting loose the reins. You're probably glad, right?"

Unsure about my feelings at the time, I'd simply nodded. Yeah. Glad.

"Meanwhile, I guess he's decided to try to cultivate Tanya's talent. Which is surprising, because I had the idea he'd considered her a marginal performer," she'd said. "I hope it works. Maybe now, Tanya won't be so prickly with the rest of us."

Sure, give the squeaky wheel some attention. Hope it stops making that awful racket and can make it to the next stop. Never mind that the wheel was always the tricky one, and should probably just be replaced.

Nope, I didn't feel resentful at all.

I was still halfway facing the two of them when Edward turned to leave Tanya's cubicle, and our eyes met, sending a surge of warmth through my veins. His mouth twitched into a small smile, almost as if he couldn't help it, but then his gaze abruptly slid away.

"Bella," he said on his way past me.

It . . . hurt. And it was the umpteenth time I swallowed a different kind of anger when it came to Edward: the one of being ignored.

I bit my lip and spun around in my chair as I watched him walk away.

I understood what he was doing and why, but fuck if I knew when I'd started to care about it; a few short weeks ago, I'd just wanted him to ignore me. Now that it seemed as if he couldn't care less what I did, my damn feelings were hurt. I didn't even know I could have feelings about such a thing when it came to Edward.

In my mind, I saw myself running after Edward with my iPad clutched in my hand, demanding that he review my latest idea for Luxe, only to have him turn and eye me like a bug.

Tanya swiveled in her own chair to watch Edward leave, her attention falling to me across the aisle. Her expression was cool, her eyes both triumphant and dismissive. It was as if we'd never had that lunch together, the one where I'd tried to ease her anger. To save her from herself. The proud smirk on her face told me she felt as if she'd one-upped me or something.

Obviously, she didn't suspect I'd shared what she'd said with Edward. Or if she did, maybe she didn't care.

"Help you with anything?" she had the temerity to ask.

"Sure," I answered, and her eyebrows rose in surprise. "I wouldn't mind a second opinion."

She strolled over in an indigo jumpsuit trimmed in black lace, clearly eager to assist me, and I had another moment of revelation: Tanya wanted to be included. Maybe her hurt at being ignored by Edward extended to others as well.

"I'm not sure whether to focus on apple picking or the pumpkin patch for a fall furniture and lighting media ad," I told her. "What do you think?"

It was an empty question; because I already knew I was going with the pumpkin patch, but I was determined that she didn't perceive me as a nosy Edward watcher.

Even though I kind of was.

Alice returned to her desk as Tanya was leaving mine.

"What was that?" Alice asked. She moved over to the short wall to rest her hands on top of the space that separated our two cubicles, grinning at me almost wickedly.

"An attempt at a better working relationship," I replied. "I asked her opinion about something, and she lit up like a candle."

"Was her opinion any good?"

"Yes, actually. Although it differed from mine," I said.

"Go figure. You two couldn't be any more different if you came from opposite ends of the galaxy."

"Thank you," I said with relief, as I was feeling way too similar to Tanya lately.

"Don't mention it. Hey, I have a favor to ask. I've got to get a mock-up done in the next few hours and have to work through lunch. Would you mind getting me a veggie on rye at the deli downstairs?"

"Sure. I was about to head down there anyway."

. . . . .

Gloria smiled at me over the glass display counter at Goodwin's. Her dark brown hair was in a bun and under a hair cap, and today, she wore a pair of bright blue eyeglasses to match her apron.

"You want the usual, honey?"

"Hi, Gloria. Yes, the Gobbler, please. And, can you add a Larkspur with a side of carrot sticks? This is all to go."

"You got it," she said, turning to the fridge and removing two small packs of carrot sticks. "Ranch dip?"

"Nope. Going healthy today."

"So I guess I can't sell you on any German chocolate cake?"

I dipped my head. "Maybe a small slice." And I'd give Alice half.

"Gloria's German chocolate cake is to die for," someone said behind me. "The perfect afternoon antidote to a sugar crash."

Edward.

For a moment, I lost my breath.

Where had he come from?

"How fortunate, since I start nodding around three every day," I said with a quick glance back at him. His hair was more chaotic than usual, but it was his gaze, beautiful and soft, that shot a dart of feeling into my heart.

"Don't let your boss see that," he replied playfully.

"I doubt there's any chance of that, seeing as how he seems to be avoiding the messenger."

Fuck! Why had I said that?

A long silence passed. I studiously kept my gaze on Gloria as she packed up the food I'd ordered, during which time I trotted out onto an imaginary ship's gangplank, then walked myself right off the end of it.

"I didn't think you'd notice," he murmured. "Or care."

"I don't," I lied. "But I don't appreciate being snubbed. It's not my fault I shared something you didn't want to see."

He moved to the side of me, impaling me with those eyes of his. "I'm not snubbing you," he whispered. "I'm trying to placate Tanya. Actually, I'm trying to groom her for one of Colin's advertising positions. I think she'd do better in his department. I think we all would."

"Wow. That's . . . awesome," I said like an inarticulate dork, and he gave me one of his blinding smiles. It actually pushed me back and to the side, against the counter. I splayed my hand against the glass, searching for an anchor.

"Here you go, Bella," Gloria said, and set my bag of food on top of the glass, saving me from looking like a total fool. "That'll be eighteen twenty-five, please."

"Wait for me?" Edward asked as Gloria ran my card.

What?

"Why? Won't Tanya see us walk back in together and jump to conclusions again?"

We were whispering together like kids telling naughty secrets.

His eyebrow crooked. "Let her jump. We're not doing anything wrong. Besides, I was favoring you, but it was because you surprised me with how damn good you are."

Surprised and embarrassed by the compliment, I made a sound of disbelief as I retrieved my credit card. I wanted to back away from Edward and his maddening, confusing invasion of my space, but I had something to say . . . and I didn't want the people behind him in line to hear me.

"You may be the boss, but you're an idiot, and I got lucky, that's all," I hissed under my breath, reaching for the bag on the counter. "Alice is just as good, if not better, than me. I don't want any handouts, all right? And, I don't want to be treated any differently from anyone else. You see how that can backfire, right?"

He gave me a look of exasperation, and then Gloria claimed his attention.

"What'll it be, Edward? Cozumel?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "How about a Pentwater Club?"

She blushed like a teenager at his crooked smile. So did Edward in response, which charmed the hell out of me.

Then, he turned and shrugged at me, as if he was embarrassed at Gloria's reaction. Or his own.

Rolling my eyes, I sighed and tapped my foot as Gloria set about making his triple decker sandwich. Okay, maybe I'd wait as he'd asked, but I'd punish him a little for it, too.

"You're not the only one who can make her blush. She's got a soft spot for Seth, too. Plus, she routinely flirts with men."

Edward staggered back dramatically with his hand across his chest as if I'd stabbed him in the heart, bumping into the woman behind him in line. Watching him whip around apologetically, seeing the woman's ire change to rapture at the sight of his contrite face, had me bursting out into laughter. Damn, we women went crazy stupid nuts for a good-looking guy.

"Oh, bite your tongue, young lady," Gloria barked, obviously having heard me. Which made me laugh even harder.

The laughter felt good. Letting go around Edward also felt freeing; although, as I straightened and caught sight of his enraptured face, I stopped abruptly.

Why was he—

"Why are you looking at me that way?"

My breath shuddered as his light green gaze picked its way around my face—my mouth, my nose, my eyes, where he lingered.

Damn it all to hell, I could feel the embarrassing horror of my own blush.

"You look happy. I've just never seen you look this way before. It's mesmerizing."

The raw honesty of his compliment nipped the bud of my knee-jerk reaction. That, and the line of people who all seemed to be looking my way. The two women wore tenuous smiles of their own, while the man in line eyed me appreciatively.

I was live entertainment.

Pursing my lips, I kicked my foot back and turned away. I had no reply for Edward's comment, but maybe I didn't need to say anything. Maybe it was okay sometimes to take a compliment at face value, even if it was from a former enemy. Especially when it seemed sincere.

Retreating a few feet to the side, I held vigil over the potato chip display. Lays, Fritos, Doritos. Good choices, all, unless you happened to gain weight just by smelling the bag's contents.

Edward kept an eye on me, jump-starting my heart with every glance, making my foot do a jiggy across the floor.

Come on, hurry up. I feel stupid waiting for you.

I don't even know why I'm waiting.

No, don't hurry. I'm scared. Who am I now with you?

Sooner than anticipated, he was bearing down on me, eyes laser-focused on mine, a lopsided smile in place.

"We could eat down here," he suggested, and cocked his head at the empty table just outside of the entrance.

What?

I wasn't ready to do anything so civilized with him.

"Or not," he amended, reading the look of alarm on my face. "But I did want to talk to you, and this seems like a good place for it."

He wanted to talk to me?

I turned and darted for the exit, and he hurried after me, catching the door for me.

"About what?" I asked, my mind a mess.

"Can we just sit for a few minutes? It's never a good time to talk to you, is all."

My stomach tightened, my steps reluctantly slowing as he stopped beside the table he'd indicated earlier. As I turned to face him, it dawned on me.

He meant personal talking, not business.

"And if Tanya sees us? Because she could walk down here at any minute."

His expression darkened. "Let her. We're not doing anything wrong, but I'm also not going to let her complaints control all of my interactions with you. Not to mention, I'm sure both you and I would be better advocates of the truth than her warped version of it."

"Truth doesn't matter when it comes to someone like Tanya. Her perception is the only right one."

"No," he said. "It's not, because you and I have our own versions of the truth."

Smiling, he pulled out a chair invitingly for me. While my insides were in turmoil, I could feel that my face was frozen. Still, I walked passively over and sat on the very edge of it.

I was afraid Edward was going to sit in the chair next to me, so I was relieved when he chose the one across from me.

"Sure you don't just want to eat here?" he asked again as he set his bag of food on the table.

"Positive," I replied as my grip tightened around my own. "I have Alice's lunch also, and she's hungry and on a deadline."

He chuckled, looking at me as if the sun had set in his eyes. I couldn't help wondering if my sitting here with him was the cause, and dropped my gaze to the iron cut-out design on the tabletop, unable to look at him for long. An unsmiling Edward was striking. A happy Edward was beautiful and terrifying.

"I wanted to thank you personally for the warning about Tanya, which allowed me to do some damage control," he said, and my eyes snapped back to him. "I knew she was unhappy with me, but not to the degree she'd consider going to HR."

"You were worried before we ever left for lunch that day," I reminded him. "Can I ask why?"

He exhaled and gave me a piercing look, studying me as if trying to decide what, if anything, to tell me. When I raised my eyebrow at him, he reluctantly chuckled.

"Your droll facial expressions are priceless," he said, his smile disappearing as his gaze went distant and thoughtful.

"I was a damn fool and got too friendly with Tanya at last year's Christmas party," he continued. "She thought it meant more than what it did, and was angry and hurt. I reported the issue to HR in case any problems arose, but have had to establish clear work boundaries with her ever since. I've even had Alice help review her work, in case I'm biased, but please don't repeat that."

He waited for my nod of assent before continuing in a low, confiding tone. "All that said, I was afraid that what she might tell you about that night would make you hate me even more."

Butterflies. In my stomach.

"Why, because I don't already have enough dirt on you?" I asked, wrapping my free arm around my midsection.

He just looked at me with a sheepish expression, his thumb smoothing across one of his eyebrows, as he waited for me to continue. While I really wasn't ready to admit that I no longer hated him, he'd baited the hook for me.

"I don't think I hate you to distraction anymore. If I did, I couldn't work for you, seeing as how you've never kept your distance as you hinted in the interview you would."

I saw his chest rise and fall at my admission, then he cocked his head at me, a look of hope on his face.

"You don't hate me anymore?"

My heart sped up then dropped. "I don't . . . hate the person you are today," I admitted, giving him that much.

He was so visibly pleased at my comment that I had to look away again. I didn't know how to deal with this Edward. Or with myself.

"You know, I always check up on the new hires for the first month or so," he said, confusing me for a moment, until I realized he was answering my accusation that he hadn't kept his distance from me.

"Tanya would disagree. She was very clear that you seemed to be favoring me. Or, do you make it a habit to walk behind a new hire's desk daily?"

Brows knitted, he gave me a look of confusion. "The corridor between yours and Tanya's cubicles leads directly to my office. So your accusation could be about either of you. Or about anyone who sits in those rows."

"Yes, but you weren't interested in what anyone else was doing, least of all Tanya. She also made that very clear."

"Again, I always check up on the new hires. I'm up to speed on Tanya's performance, and didn't need to babysit her."

I stiffened. "You didn't need to babysit me, either."

"Bad word choice," he soothed. "And no, I certainly didn't. You're a natural. I'm glad you're here, so don't think I'm discounting you now. Like I said, I appreciate that you let me know how Tanya was feeling. I'm trying to mitigate any further accusations about favoritism toward you."

Mollified, I nodded. "But now the pendulum is swinging the other way—you should be careful about how much attention you give to Tanya."

He cocked his head curiously at me with a small smile. "Thanks for the warning, but you're not paying attention. Haven't you seen me over at Anna's desk? Or Seth's?"

Well, shit.

"Obviously no. Okay, then. You're on top of it."

He was still smiling. "I wouldn't have thought you'd be so altruistic when it came to me."

I stood. "Thanks for the talk, it's been enlightening."

Then he was laughing. "So prickly, Bella."

"Stop acting as if we're friends. We're not. You're my boss, I'm your employee, and I did you a good turn because my conscience wouldn't allow it otherwise. That's all," I lied again, needing him to back off. This carefree side of him was too damn likable, and I didn't want to like him.

His laughter abruptly died, and there was anger and disappointment in his eyes. Conversely, I felt horrible for bursting his bubble.

"Oh, we're definitely not friends. That would be a bad idea, considering we're boss and employee, and you barely respect that," he said in a low tone, rebuking me. "I think it's due to our past, though, which is why I'm interested in clearing things up. Can we please do that?"

The emotional seesaw I was on tipped again; stung that he'd chastised me, my words came out snappish. "You routinely made my life a living hell. What's to clear up? The fact that you were an asshole? You really think that can be cleared up?"

He stood slowly, his gaze pinning me in place. "Are you ready to talk about this?"

The look of hope in his eyes both angered and killed me, and my knees began to shake lightly as I considered his question.

Was I ready?

"I'll do whatever you need me to do," he added.

So dangerously persuasive.

I was on the verge of agreeing until I imagined how the conversation would go, and the familiar feelings of nausea and panic kicked in.

"No," I said, and took off, my heels clacking quickly across the pavement.

He kept pace with me, and I felt his intense gaze like lightning racing up my back.

"You're getting closer, though."

"Stop pressing."

"I'm really not. I've been very patient."

"Then why do I feel this way?"

"You're scared. I get it. I am, too."

Fuck, that just terrified me more.

"What are you scared of?" I snapped, ignoring the people around us as I entered the opening in the roundabout door, cutting off his reply when he couldn't follow.

It didn't slow him down at all, though. Edward entered the building by using the door beside the roundabout, and was already waiting for me with steely eyes and a tense jaw when the circling door opening finally let me out.

Tightening my grip around the bag I held, I walked past him with a glare.

"You're not the only one with a painful past," he said in a fervent tone as we strode almost step-in-step for the bank of elevators. "You're not the only victim."

My throat tightened at the raw note of pain in his voice. "Maybe not, but I was your victim, and I don't owe you anything."

I had expected anger from him in response to my words, so was taken aback by the look of entreaty on his face.

"Don't you want to know why?"

My heart leaped up into my throat, stealing my breath.

"Stop it," I whispered.

I'm afraid, and right now isn't the time, I wanted to say.

Seeing my fear, he exhaled in agitation, stepping back as a couple of people moved past us toward the open elevator. I hadn't even realized the doors had opened, and looked away from the curious glances they gave me as they passed, their faces a blur.

Frozen in place, I watched one of Edward's hands rise to tug harshly at his hair. I'd never seen him lose his composure like this, but he recovered quickly.

"Damn it," he said, shaking his head. "For every step forward with you, I have to take two back."

"I guess so," I replied, sad. Angry. Heavy. "Well then, stop pushing."

He gave me a hard stare. "If I didn't, we wouldn't get anywhere. You'd be happy continuing to barely tolerate me."

It caught my heart and wrung it out, because he was wrong. "I'm not happy doing that," I admitted quietly.

"Content, then," he replied, flinging an arm out angrily. "And I don't want you content in that regard. I want an employee I don't have to walk on eggshells around."

I hid how stricken I was at his words by moving away from him and stepping into the elevator. It fucking hurt that he felt that way around me. There wasn't much worse than the realization you made someone else uncomfortable to that point. Then again, he'd once made me feel that way.

But this was now, I reminded myself. Damn it, I had to stop thinking so much about the past when it came to him.

Edward followed me, narrowly escaping the closing of the elevator doors. I kept my gaze on him, but it was a long moment before he looked my way.

"Sorry," I mouthed at him. "I'm trying."

He studied me for a long moment before his eyes softened, and he nodded.

Even when I moved my gaze away from him, I still felt the intensity of his stare. I sensed his frustration, and squirmed guiltily inside. I wanted to say he was right. That I was getting closer, that I was trying . . . but the words were trapped on the other side of my painfully tight throat.

I was emotionally exhausted, and didn't know how much longer I would be able to outrun myself. Or him.