Free Temping Is Hell by Cathy Yardley

chatter around them was still pretty loud.
    She did love sushi. That said, she was way too broke to pay for it.
    At least one good thing will come from this date , she thought.
    “So what’s it like working at the Evil Empire?” Tad asked, opening the menu. She noticed him glancing over the prices and frowning.
    “Could be worse,” she said, then grinned a little, thinking of her conversation with Thomas. It seemed like forever ago. Her cheeks warmed, and her stomach jittered.
    And that was just thinking of the guy. Ridiculous.
    “So… how’s the eBay thing coming along?” she asked Tad quickly.
    He puffed with pride and killed the next twenty minutes talking about his mint-in-the-box Star Wars figure enterprise, and how much money he was making. She let him ramble, forcing herself not to look at her cell phone to check the time.
    Finally, when their dinner was served, she took out her chopsticks, lovingly staring at the sashimi. Mmmmm . “So, was the scanner thingy difficult?” she asked, when she thought it was safe.
    “Pfft,” he said, preening a little. “Utter child’s play. Did you say they had people looking for this, piece by piece?” He sounded shocked, and disgusted.
    “I know,” she commiserated.
    “Epic stupidity. I don’t know how they’re making so much money if they’re doing bonehead stuff like that.”
    “Oh, they manage,” she said, then frowned. Maybe that’s how Thomas had made so much money at such a relatively young age. He wouldn’t be the first hot guy with absolutely no scruples. Maybe she needed to do a little more research on Fiendish.
    Maybe her people judge-o-meter needed to be recalibrated.
    “Let’s not talk shop, Kate,” Tad said, and to her surprise, he reached out and grasped her free hand. She dropped a fat slice of tuna in shock. “I’m really, really glad you agreed to go out with me.”
    She hadn’t really agreed so much as was extorted, but now probably wasn’t the best time to bring that up. “Um… well, I appreciate you writing the program and getting it to work,” she said. “The fact that you’re willing to throw in dinner on top of, um, helping me with my work is a huge favor.”
    He frowned. She tried to tug her hand away, but he tightened his grip. “I’ve been meaning to ask you to dinner for years,” he said, his voice low and hard to hear over the jazzy vibe in the restaurant. “I just didn’t have the opportunity. Now that I have… I’ve got a lot to say.”
    She pressed against the rounded back of her chair, almost tipping it over. “Octopus?” she said, offering him a piece, praying that he’d be disgusted enough to give her some space.
    “No, thanks,” he mumbled, looking into her eyes like he was trying to hypnotize her. “Kate… I think you know how much I like you.”
    “Um.” She felt like a butterfly on a T-pin, writhing in agony. “You’re a good guy. A good friend—”
    “Don’t, Kate. Don’t put me in the friend zone,” he interrupted, scowling. “I’d rather be an asshole than a ‘good friend.’ You might as well say eunuch.”
    “If you don’t let go of my hand,” Kate said, as his grip increased to painful pressure, “I’ll be calling you ‘asshole’ in a second, Tadpole.”
    “Why won’t you even give me a damned chance ?”
    “Let go of me,” she repeated slowly, starting to feel a little nervous. Tad was persistent and annoying—but she’d never felt afraid of him before. There was something off about him tonight, something edgy and unlike him.
    “I think about you a lot,” he growled. “Ever since I started working with that thing you gave me, I haven’t been able to get you out of my head.”
    She stared at him, aghast. Has he been drinking or something?
    “Is everything all right here?” a new voice intoned. She glanced over… then gaped. Thomas Kestrel. Standing there in one of his trademark dark suits, with a snowy white shirt and a tie the color of blood-red roses. He