Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)

by Meghan Quinn

“Four months?” I ask. “Jesus Christ.” I step away, running my hand through my hair. When I look at her, I don’t see the same person I fell in love with years ago. I see someone jaded, someone manipulative, someone who had no intention of protecting my heart.

Everything I’ve known about love comes crashing to a fucking standstill. I feel so . . . betrayed. Broken.

“You know what? You’re right, it is.” I smile demonically. “I’ll call the landlord right now and tell her to switch the name on the lease to yours. Enjoy paying rent.”

Not sure if it’s me asking her to leave or the realization that she has nothing without me, but panic lights up her eyes. “Listen, Silas, we can work this out.”

There is nothing like utter silence to gain the upper hand when facing a competitor, especially me because I can’t stand the silence.

I didn’t tell her it was down either because just that morning, she’d yelled at me for taking the last Green Mountain blueberry coffee pod. Someone had to take it, and that someone just happened to be me.

“A semblance of class,” Ross says, cutting me off.

“He does exist,” I say, anger pulsing up my spine. My voice sounds so convincing that I almost believe he has magically appeared from my imagination and parked it right here in this bar.

Better watch out, man, feral beast incoming.

Posey: Once again, you can’t take her down. Her personal life isn’t the Agitators concern.

And the other man just keeps blinking . . . rapidly, as if he can’t quite comprehend what he’s witnessing.

She pauses and looks over her shoulder. “What?”

She starts to move, but I place my hand on her thigh. “Not so fast. You can’t scare me away with your nonsense.”

“Who the hell would I tell? I barely like anyone these days. Hell, I hardly tolerate you.”

“Not really. I don’t know the guy or know of him. I’m grateful he kissed me back last night, and I feel bad for him. It seems like he’s going through a tough spot, so I thought I’d listen to what he has to say. Plus, he can possibly help me with my assignment. It’s all business.”

“You’re a romantic at heart, a daydreamer, someone who gets lost in her feelings. If you truly think you can make an arrangement with a man like Silas Taters and not catch feelings, you’ve lost your damn mind.”

Because is this really how low I’ve stooped? Is this rock bottom? For my own sake, I truly hope so. I don’t think I could go any lower than this.

“Between the way you’re inconspicuously dressed and the full-on once-over you just gave me, your vibe is screaming pervert looking for his next prey.”

“If you’re wondering if I often ask women to be my pretend girlfriend, the answer is no.”

“I truly believe the best way to get to know someone is through their orgasms, so yes. How many times a week do you come?”

“Guess you kissed the right man at the right time.” She smirks at me. “I guess I did.”

He probably still has feelings for said old girlfriend, and that’s a tangled web I want nothing to do with. It’s messy, and I don’t do messy.

“You’re probably right.” I reach into my purse and pull out a stack of photos. “Good thing I printed multiple copies yesterday.” Ross chuckles and shakes his head at the same time. “God, I love you so much.”

“Now that he’s shed an old relationship, he can focus on himself and not play second fiddle to the ego he used to date.”

He nods. “You wrote that piece about romance books and how they apply to everyday life, didn’t you?”

I swallow hard and nod, suddenly feeling the pressure of this lie.

Goddammit, look at me having a conscience.

This is why I’ll never be a killer businesswoman.

I don’t have the instinct to only take what I want and not let emo...

Lowly interns like myself don’t belong here.

“I see. What made you want to come out with your relationship?” Is this really appropriate work talk? Feels more like a gossip sesh.

If I wasn’t so terrified about fucking up this internship opportunity, I would ask him what his intentions are with this conversation. You know, really stick up for me and “my man.”

“Well, you will,” he says while moving his mouse around. “I want you to focus your assignment on the inner workings of the Agitators. I want you to immerse yourself into the team and dig up any information you can.”

“He wants me to write a ‘gotcha’ article about the Agitators and how they’re cheating the system.”

“Stop. What did he really want?” Ross asks, clearly assuming I’m joking. If only.

“Men . . . or boys?” “Good point.” She moves over to my couch and sits cross-legged. “So what’s for dinner?

“That was an act of desperation. It wasn’t a move. It was survival instincts. Much, much different.”

“How about no one is a hero, and I saw you in a bar and hit on you, simple as that.”

She taps her chin in thought. “It has merit. I think we could make it work.” “Well, thank God for that.”

She shrugs. “You’re hot. Don’t you want to look at the beauty of your body?”

That makes me laugh. “Your grandma’s type. Maybe that’s why you zeroed in on me at the bar. Runs in the family.”

“Strong personalities are sexy,” I say.

“I did, but I made a big deal about leaving and never coming back. You know, dramatic teen stuff. Now that I’m a touch older, I see how stupid it was, but this girl has pride, and I’ll be damned if I have to go back there and eat my words.”

My life had order and structure a few days ago. Same place to live, same friends, same job. Now? It’s been somewhat upended. Where the hell did Ollie Owens, the pint-sized ballbuster, even come from?

A job straight out of college would be everything I ever wanted.

I told him his business was a dying trade, and then we parted ways.

A fundraiser? Roberts attends many events during the year, and I’ve never been invited to one. But now that Silas is in the picture, I’m invited. I don’t like how this feels, not even a little.

If anyone is to blame, it’s 100 percent me. If only I didn’t need to keep Silas on the hook to impress Alan Roberts. And I just wish I didn’t care so much about proving my father wrong. If I didn’t care, then keeping my hockey-legend fake boyfriend wouldn’t be a necessity. With a heavy sigh, I head straight to Ross’s desk from the conference room. If anyone can get me black tie ready, it’s him.

Silas side-eyes me. “He’s just as old as I am, so stop knocking on the doors of grandads.” I laugh out loud.

“Haven’t found a guy worthy of my time,” I answer. “At least you have standards.”