So This Is War (Vancouver Agitators, #5)

by Meghan Quinn

He gains the bartender’s attention with a concise flick of his hand. “Your finest water.” Of course he orders a water. He might be one of the toughest players on the ice with a terrifying right hook that has knocked out quite a few opponents, and he might also be known as the biggest player on the team, but he’s also a rule follower. Therefore, as it’s the night before a game . . . he’s not drinking.

Her eyes fall to the coffee table in my living room, where I have three books stacked with a candle on top. “Do you even read those books?” “Nope,” I say. “It’s all part of the design and feel of the apartment.” “Ah, so you’re trying to portray intelligence when, in reality, there’s very little intelligence in this apartment?” “Pretty mu—” I pause, thinking about it. “Uh, no. There’s intelligence in this apartment.”

“I’m not awkward. Are you awkward? Because I feel fine. Great actually. Rip-roaring and ready to go.” Her smile grows wider. “Oh yes, I’m rip-roaring and ready to go as well.” “Great.” I stuff my hands in my pockets and rock on my heels. “Because I think if we keep everything super professional, we can make the most of this situation. Possibly excel as the best boss/assistant relationship.” “Wouldn’t that just be fantastic,” she says. “Imagine the accolades we could win by not being awkward but rather rip-roaring professionals. People around us might be so impressed that they write to the Foreign Press. Tell them there needs to be an award made just for us.” I know she’s being sarcastic. I know she’s trying to lighten the mood. But, Jesus fuck . . . I’d be fucking thrilled to win an award documenting my excellence in professionalism and managerial skills. “What would the trophy look like?” I ask, feeling myself drift off in thought.

If you’re passionate about something, then I’m going to believe in you and support you. That’s how it should work.”