K. R. Treadway
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Opposites Distract 2: Corner Battleground
🕑 Added 2024-10-13 15:00:18 +0000 UTC
~ Edgar ~
Edgar’s words had scored a direct hit—just as he'd intended.
Liv Doyle shot to her feet like a soldier hearing the call to battle.
More like a wake-up call, he thought with satisfaction. The Liv Doyles of the world were always stunned when they didn’t get what they wanted.
Her palms slapped down on the opposite side of the desktop, and Liv leaned in. “Standing desk?” It was a demand for answers, not a question.
“Correct.”
Edgar would never tease a woman by telling her she was “beautiful when she was angry.” That was the worst kind of patronizing cliché. But in that moment, standing practically face-to-face, he couldn't help thinking it.
Up close, Liv’s hair wasn’t black, but a deep lustrous brown, with willful curls held in check by a ponytail. She had delicate eyebrows, a pointed chin, and vivid blue eyes that made her complexion seem ethereal instead of pale. But it was her lush lips, sensual in their pursed challenge, that made his heart shift to a higher gear. Liv wasn't beautiful because of her anger, Liv was simply beautiful—even when her mood was ugly.
“You can't have this office,” she said.
“Why not? I don't see your name carved into the wall.”
An answering flash of enmity danced in her eyes. “According to last week’s email,” she replied through gritted teeth. “Mr. Hartnell plans to assign this office to a senior agent.”
“Right,” he said.
She blinked. “Right.”
They stared at each other. She raised her eyebrows expectantly. When he didn't react, she managed to raise them higher.
“What?” he said tightly.
“So why are you still here?”
Edgar leaned forward, matching her aggressive tilt until their faces were inches apart. He prided himself on his innate calmness, but that pride was straining at the seams trying to keep his voice to a polite level.
“Because, Ms. Doyle, you're not the only pers—” he paused, noticing a faint but genuine bemusement lurking below Liv’s irritated expression. Understanding bloomed. “Oh my God.”
“What?”
“Unbelievable.”
“What?” Her fingers tapped a staccato rhythm on the desk. “Spit it out.”
Edgar straightened and slowly folded his arms. This would be funny if it wasn't so insulting. “Could you tell me,” he asked with deceptive silkiness, “what you think I do here at Hartnell?”
He watched her throat work for a moment. The question had thrown her. She gave a deliberately casual shrug. “You’re…the computer guy.”
Edgar closed his eyes. He reached up and rubbed his forehead. Even guessing the truth, that had stung more than expected. “You think I’m the computer guy.”
“Well, that's the gist of it, right? Just because I don't know your title doesn't mean I don't know your job.” To her credit, she wasn’t oblivious to his reaction, and he heard a note of defensiveness creeping in. “Isn't it?”
“No.” He felt numb, his mouth stiff as he spoke the next words. “I am. A senior agent. Like you.”
Her lips parted in surprise. Liv straightened from the desk, her face a mask of confusion. “You…um, you are?”
“Yes!” He shook his head and walked away, before spinning back around. “I signed on as an agent three years ago. Three years. I was promoted to senior last year, only five months after you.”
Edgar didn’t know why her ignorance was so damn galling. She had plausible excuses. Liv’s cases took her away for weeks at a stretch, and his office was in the basement next to the server room. And, okay, sometimes he did help diagnose tech issues for his colleagues.
You're disappointed, an ugly little part of him goaded, because you know a lot about her, and she’s barely aware you exist.
He didn’t like what that implied about either of them.
“I’m sorry, uh, Ed. Honestly.” Her words were sincere, but the frustration inside him kept rising, like an incoming tide.
“Did you call me ‘Ed’ because you already forgot my full name?” he snapped.
Her eyes widened and he saw an instant of hurt before her expression went flat and she looked down. He inwardly winced. Angry or not, it had been a cheap riposte.
“Look, that was—”
“Save it.” As she lifted her dark lashes to look at him, her irises gave Edgar the impression of a blast furnace despite their deep-blue color. “You’ve made it clear how you feel about me. Fine. Let's call the feeling mutual. I apologize for getting your job wrong, but I have other concerns that take priority. If you want to know what they are, check my case summaries.”
“I’ve read your case summaries.”
That brought Liv up short, but only for a moment, like tossing a bucket of water on an inferno. She quickly rallied.
“Then re-read them, Ed. But not here, because I’d like some privacy to soak up the atmosphere of my future office.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Oh, you prefer your full name? Sorry, Edward.” She tilted her head and gave him a look of wide-eyed innocence. “Did I get that right?”
“Stop it.” He didn’t know whether he was telling Liv to knock it off or telling his body to quit reacting to her coy expression. His head was buzzing with indignation and baser emotions he didn’t want to think about.
“Oops. Do you prefer ‘Eddie’?”
Edgar's temper boiled over, and he couldn’t stop the sound of raw fury that escaped his clenched teeth.
Liv’s upper body shifted back. Not quite a flinch. “Did you just…growl at me?” Her voice was subdued, slightly breathless.
“Yes. Congrats. That’s the first time someone's driven me to inarticulate rage.”
Her lips parted, but she remained quiet. Her gaze turned away and for a moment she seemed uncharacteristically hesitant.
“I don’t believe for a second that you’re intimidated.”
Liv’s glare shot back, blue-flamed coals ready to rake him again. It was almost a relief after her odd silence. “I was just deciding if I wanted to keep the carpet.”
“The carpet stays.”
She gave a theatrical scoff of disbelief. “Look at that. There is something we can agree on. Do you have an opinion on the blinds?” The question was mock-casual, as if they were genuine colleagues, and he found himself answering on instinct.
“Venetian. Natural wood to match the wainscoting.”
Liv opened her mouth to reply and then shut it. She turned and studied the window seat. “That’s…yeah. Pretty good.” Then her back stiffened, and she scowled at him over her shoulder. “I’ll consider it after I’m settled in.”
“The closest you’ll get to moving up here,” he said slowly, “is when you help me carry up my stuff.”
She sucked in an angry breath and he felt a primitive satisfaction.
Edgar was acting ridiculous and he knew it. Part of him—the part that wasn’t fuming at a certain aggravating brunette—was questioning his sanity. This confrontation was wildly unlike him. Hell, he’d only come up here as a wistful “what if,” thinking how nice it would be to leave the musty basement behind. It hadn’t been that important. Now, faced with Liv’s non-stop jabs, he suddenly wanted this office with every fiber of his being.
“I solved the Buckley kidnapping,” she abruptly declared. It was as if she’d torn a strip off her resume and tossed it at him.
He shook his head, refusing to respond. So petty.
“I also recovered the stolen Wilkinson painting.”
Petty and childish. Edgar wasn’t about to stoop to her level.
“Then there was—”
“I cracked the embezzlement scheme at Gonzalez and Reese.” Screw it. It felt good to stoop.
Liv went quiet, a perfect little furrow forming between her brows. “That was you?” He nodded. Her eyes swept over his face, like a chess grandmaster reassessing her opponent. Then she raised her chin. “Bet I could have cracked it sooner.”
“Oh, you know how to program in COBOL?” The question dripped with scornful politeness.
This time she didn’t hesitate. “Who needs cold ball? My methods don’t involve typing away at a keyboard for days, computer guy.”
That was it.
Edgar took two steps towards the corner of the desk the same instant Liv rounded it on the other side. They stumbled to a halt in front of each other, both realizing at the same time that this escalation hadn’t been thought through. What were they going to do, start brawling? They stared at each other as the tension of the moment stretched towards unbearable.
He couldn't remember the last time he’d felt this agitated. His skin was hot and his limbs seemed to thrum with electricity. Liv was in a similar state, taking in harsh breaths through parted lips. He took in her wide pupils and flushed skin, and the spark of arousal this prompted annoyed him even more.
Walk away, warned the tiny fragment of reason he was clinging to. Walk away right now. Be professional. He opened his mouth to speak, but his mind was a blank. Another unwelcome first. Mentally flailing, he grabbed the next thought that came to him and fired it at her.
“You’re gorgeous when you’re angry.”
Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it. Her flush turned even deeper, into a full-on blush that suffused her cheeks with red. But Edgar hadn’t scored a victory. Far from it. Only a fool would stoke the fire behind those glacier-colored eyes, and judging from the tiny flare of her nostrils, he had about three seconds before he was ash.
Dumbfounded by his own words, but unwilling to admit defeat, Edgar pasted on his best approximation of a confident grin, and turned to go. Her hand clamped onto his shoulder just as he froze for an entirely different reason.
“We’re not done you son-of-a—”
“M-Mr. Hartnell,” he said, wishing it hadn’t come out as an overloud stammer. The fingers on his shoulder tightened in shock. “Hello there.”
Their employer took two steps into the room, leaning on a cane. His slightly-too-long silver hair was in its usual disarray, but his pale blue eyes were as shrewd as always. Unlike Liv, there was neither ice nor fire in Richard Hartnell’s gaze, only the color of remote sky—like a mythical firmament concealing gods with the power of life, death, and unemployment.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Sharp. Ms. Doyle. What were you two talking about just now?”
Edgar sensed more than saw Liv step out from behind him. Her hand gentled on his shoulder until it was resting companionably.
“Just talking old cases, Mr. Hartnell,” she said, her voice completely at ease. How did she do that so quickly? “I was congratulating Ed, here.” The hand patted his shoulder and dropped away. “You know, the Gonzalez and Reese case.”
“Glad to find you two…comparing notes.” His impish expression gave nothing away. “I want you both to join me in the conference room. I have a tremendous opportunity to discuss.” His eyes skirted past them to take in the old-world grandeur of the room. “For all of us,” he added.
