EXCEPTional

Ch. 10 (Bridget)

*Bridget*

As I had expected, work was chaotic. Nearly every person in the building came up to me to ask me a question that was related to Chance Olson in some way. "How do you know Chance Olson?" "Where did Chance Olson take you to dinner?" "What did you and Chance Olson do?" "Do you know where Chance Olson lives?" I was pretty sick of the name Chance Olson by the end of my day.

Shay slunk into my office as I was packing up. I thought I would get away with not seeing her today, but I was never that lucky. She slid up to my desk and said, "You have gossip for me."

"You must have this floor confused with the fourth," I replied, not looking at her. "Next floor is gossip columnists."

She gave me a look, which was pointless since my back was to her. "I mean," she drawled, "you have juicy tidbits about Chance Olson."

His name was like nails on a chalkboard, and the muscles in my back tightened.

I turned around, looked at her straight-on, and said dramatically, "He eats with a fork." I gasped as though it was scandalous news, and then deadpanned, resuming my packing up for the day.

She wasn't amused. "Bridget," she said, almost impatiently, "I'm talking about the good stuff. Like, what you talked about."

"We talked a whole lot about nothing," I told her, placing the strap of my purse over my shoulder.

"Seriously," she encouraged.

"Seriously," I insisted. "Believe it or not, nothing sounds exactly the same out of your mouth as it does out of his. I know nothing. He's full of it."

She followed after me quickly. "So, you spent an entire dinner with the sexiest man alive and you talked about nothing? Is that what you're telling me?"

I stepped into the elevator. "That's exactly what I'm telling you, because that's what happened." I hit the button for the main floor.

She jumped inside before the door could close. "For once in your life, Bridget, give an exciting answer. Bedazzle it up!" she begged.

"I hate bedazzle," I stated simply, entering the lobby. But I froze mere steps from the elevator when I spotted the lone visitor.

It was him. And he wore cocky sunglasses that matched his arrogant smirk. From the way he stood, you could tell he had been watching the elevators, waiting for someone. And a sinking feeling in my stomach told me that someone was me.

"Looks like I have a stalker," I grumbled under my breath, my grip on my purse strap tightening.

"Uh, Bridget," Shay said, also exiting the elevator. "Is that . . .?"

I sighed. "Yup. It is."

He pushed away from the wall he was leaned against, hands stuffed in his pockets, and he walked towards us.

I asked, tone almost bored, "What are you doing here?"

He grinned, and my insides twisted. Whenever someone grinned the way he was, you knew nothing good would come of it. He told me, "I had such a good time last night, I just had to come back for more."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Shay's mouth fall open, and I groaned inwardly. I sent him a murderous glare, which only broadened his grin. "Whatever," I mumbled, brushing past him and towards the door.

He was beside me in a moment, reaching out to open the door for me. He bowed as I walked through, smirking nearly victoriously at me.

"Thanks to you," I said once we were walking together again, "everyone will think I lied to them about last night. Shay will tell everyone there was dessert afterwards and I'll have to live with, 'Oh my god, you and Chance had sex!' for the rest of my time there."