Page 69 of Not Safe for Work

“Sure,” I say. “Do you know where we’re going?”

“Yeah. Allow me to escort you.” He gestures with a flourish, and I give him a tight smile because he’s trying to be cute. And he is cute. Maybe I need to give him a chance. It’s not his fault that Rafe appears to make him look bad every time he comes near me.

I stretch my smile wider, ignoring how forced it feels. If I’m considering breaking my personal stalemate and giving my attention to a man at WMC, then it should be this one. Or some other one. Or literally anyone who isn’t Rafe.

“I lost you last night,” he says as we walk towards the conference rooms. “You missed some good trivia.”

“I wasn’t feeling well.” I touch my forehead with the back of my hand as if to convince him of my lie.

“Are you still sick?” He frowns at my hand, and I snatch it away. I’m being ridiculous.

“No.” I shake my head. “Nothing a good night’s sleep couldn’t cure.”

“Oh, I’m glad to hear that.” He rubs his chin, looking a little unsure of himself. “I was wondering if you wanted to get some dinner tonight? I hear there is a mean seafood spread at the Coconut Lounge.”

I don’t really want to. What I want is to survive this day, get Rafe out of my room, and spend the night with my smutty romance novel. But I already know that even if he’s physically removed from my presence, my imagination is vivid, and my obsession with Rafe is as familiar and inevitable as the sun rising over the horizon.

So, I look Andy in the eye and put on a smile that I hope is convincing.

“Sure, I’d like that.”

“Awesome,” he says, releasing a relieved puff of air.

We’ve just arrived at the conference room, where lines of tables are set up in rows. A whiteboard announces the day’s activities with bold black lettering that spells out Aptitude Test. I sigh. Another test.

“Should we say seven?” Andy asks, and I nod before he smiles and finds his seat. Lan and Gabrielle wave me over, and I slide in next to them, pulling my bag over my head and setting it on the ground.

“You missed our victory last night!” Gabrielle exclaims. “We won!”

“Amazing! What did you win?”

They exchange a pleased look. “A private yacht tour for four, including all the food and drinks you can consume,” Lan says.

“Congrats. That sounds incredible.”

“You’ll come along, right?” Lan asks. “It’s going to be so fun.”

“Sure. Of course. I’d love to. What about the fourth?”

Gabrielle’s expression turns sly. “We thought you might want to invite someone?”

Their gazes slide to Rafe, who’s settling himself across the room. His eyes find mine, and my cheeks warm as I turn back to my friends.

“Um, I’ll think about it.”

“Okay,” Lan says. “We’ll go sometime next week. We’re thinking the night before the training program announcements.”

I nod, fiddling with the pen in my hands. “Sure. Thank you.” They both look so hopeful that I don’t have the heart to tell them I won’t be inviting Rafe, but we’ll cross that bridge later. There’s still time. Maybe I’ll find someone else to fill this inconvenient ache in my… chest.

Several pieces of stapled paper are dropped in front of me, and I pick them up, trying to focus on the task at hand. Whistle Mouth stands at the front of the room, eyeing us with her unearned superiority. “Today, you will undergo a series of tests to determine your aptitude in specific areas such as verbal, numerical, or logical reasoning, as well as how you think, learn, communicate, and remember. There is no grade, and you cannot give a wrong answer. These tests are simply designed to determine your capacity to function in various contexts.”

I’m sure I’m not the only one thinking about how scary that sounds, as evidenced by the low murmur cycling through the room. We are definitely being graded on our answers.

Whistle Mouth calls for silence, and the room descends into the drone of concentration, the scratch of pencils, and the soft sounds of shuffling paper.

The first question is simple, and I nearly laugh at how obvious it is.

Which word describes you best? I’d rather be: