Page 27 of Not Safe for Work

“Then focus on your task. You’re distracting everyone.”

“Fine,” I say. “Use the skewers.”

“Use the pasta,” he says, and I let out a sigh dramatic enough to garner me a Daytime Emmy.

“Are you kidding me? Do you just live to irritate me?”

Again, there’s that smile that isn’t quite a smile, his eyes burning with an intensity I’m sure the devil himself would covet. The fist he makes causes the veins on his arms to stand out, and I trace them with my gaze, traveling up to his face where he’s watching me like a jaguar stalking prey across the Sahara.

My stomach flips and then crashes so hard it makes my knees go rubbery.

I’m a masochist. I need therapy.

Gabrielle, bless her heart, attempts to dispel the tension by grabbing the pasta and gathering it into small bundles.

“You finish these,” she says to Pete as she darts uncertain glances between us.

“Tris, you assemble them.” She hands me the Play-Doh, probably to distract me like one might with a toddler. I set to work under the weight of Rafe’s stare.

“You help her.” Gabrielle points to Rafe, and he nods.

We say nothing as we construct our wheel, one segment at a time, molding pieces of Play-Doh to hold it in place. The room is crowded, and our elbows and hips and thighs keep bumping. With each brush of his body against mine, I go weak and fluttery and absolutely stupid.

As it turns out, Gabrielle is the best leader in our group because she gets us focused, issuing orders and instructions, and before long, we have a perfectly working Ferris wheel that spins merrily on its bamboo skewer pivot.

Gabrielle claps her hands and gives a little hop as it whirrs into motion. Pete grins, and I’m guessing he’s just relieved we’ve finished without becoming our scapegoat again.

“Sorry I told you to shut up,” I say, feeling like an asshole. “I wasn’t in my right mind.”

“It’s cool.” Pete skirts a glance over me and then to Rafe with an expression that says this is none of my business.

I’m furious with Rafe for getting under my skin. How am I supposed to stay away from him when we share the same room and fate is conspiring to throw us together?

“Good suggestions,” Gabrielle says to me. “It works great.”

“Great job with the motor,” I respond, and she smiles proudly.

The class instructor walks over to observe our work, noting something on her clipboard.

Diane is still seated in the room’s corner, her legs crossed and her arms folded as she studies us like rats in a lab. She’s wearing another sheath dress, this time in cream, with a chunky statement necklace.

What a fool I made of myself. Maybe I can talk to her one-on-one later and explain what happened. Surely she understands what it’s like to be passed over for a promotion simply for being a woman?

Eventually, everyone in the room completes their projects. Some work better than others, and one falls apart completely when they switch on their motor. I cringe, thankful ours remained in one piece, even if our group was a disaster.

“Thank you,” the instructor says. “I hope this was an informative exercise in leadership and how teams naturally find their rhythm.” The look she directs at Rafe and me is so sharp that it nearly draws blood. We share a glance, and I know we’re both dreaming up spectacular ways to make the other one suffer.

“Now that the work part of the day is over, it’s time for some fun. We’ll meet at the hotel marina in one hour to embark on our afternoon boat tour. A late lunch will be served. Bring your swimsuits. You’re dismissed.”

A general swell of excited chatter ripples through the room as everyone gathers their things and heads upstairs to change.

“Meet me in the lobby, and we’ll all go together?” I ask Lan and Gabrielle as they pack their bags.

“Give me your phone,” Lan says, and she enters her number into my contacts.

I head for the elevator, and while I’m waiting, Rafe arrives to stand next to me, his hands stuffed in his pockets. He ignores me and stares at the doors like he’s trying to burn a hole through the metal. I consider telling him to take a different elevator, but we’re going to the same place, and I don’t have the energy.

(And maybe we’ve antagonized each other enough for one day.)