The Perfect Mistake (The Connovan Chronicles #2)

by Olivia Hayle

“How are you getting there?” “I’m taking the subway.” “You should have told me. Mac could have driven you.” “Mac works for you,” I tell him. “Not for me.” His frown deepens. “Where is the comedy club?” “The Village.” “What?” “It’s not far,” I say. I’m a born and bred New Yorker, the same as him. But I’d bet everything I own that I’ve ridden the subway infinitely more times than him. “Tell me you’re taking a taxi home,” he says. His voice is hushed, but there’s a clear demand in it. I want to roll my eyes. “Maybe. Depends on how late it’ll run.” “You’re taking a taxi,” he says. “I’ll reimburse you.” “Is this you talking as my employer?” My voice is just shy of mocking on that last word. His jaw tenses, and there’s a fire flashing in his eyes. Maybe I haven’t spoken back to him like this before. But it’s been a week since we kissed, since he broke it off and disappeared into his home office, and I’m tired of feeling on edge all the time. Waiting for him to come home, hiding my excitement when he enters a room. It’s worn me down. “Yes,” he says testily. “It is.” “Okay then. I’ll take a taxi.” He doesn’t breathe a sigh of relief. He doesn’t breathe at all. Just glances down at my lips with an angry sort of stare, and I know how he’s feeling, because I’m feeling it, too. I leave with quick steps, and the front door shuts behind me with a heavy click.