The Nemesis Affair. Erin McCarthy

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СКАЧАТЬ Being an asshole was invigorating.

      * * *

      Liam Kelly sat at his desk in his cubicle and tried to keep his expression neutral as his boss spoke. His complete bugger of a passive-aggressive boss, who had absolutely no reason to behave the way he did, other than that he clearly enjoyed it.

      “So let’s not have that happen again, all right?” Greg clapped him on the shoulder as if they were buddies. But it was a con. A sham. He was enjoying giving Liam a dressing down. It was his way of feeling powerful or some such shit.

      All Liam knew was that he left the bank every day wanting to punch a brick wall repeatedly. Or punch Greg in the face while emphatically stating with total satisfaction, “I quit.”

      But he couldn’t quit. The only way he was allowed to stay in the US was if he kept his job and therefore his work visa. So there would be no punching in the face no matter how often Greg made him want to, and there would be no tearing apart his cubicle walls in total defiance, or ripping his tie off and rappelling with it down the side of the building to the street for an escape. All of which he had considered at one point or another.

      He’d never been meant to work in an office. It wasn’t in his genetic makeup. But after retiring from rugby, he’d found himself needing a job in finance per his university degree or risk being sent on a plane back to Ireland. And while he loved the country he’d been born and raised in, he equated going back with failure. He’d have to stand in front of his father in Kinsale and tell him that the sacrifices he’d made for his son had ended in nothing. He’d failed at rugby, he couldn’t fail at banking, too.

      Plus there was no minimizing that he was well paid, too. After a year at the bank, he had a solid savings account and had a decent apartment on the Upper West Side. It was all as it should be, except for the fact that his nine-hour days inside a skyscraper made him feel like his skin was too tight and his head might explode.

      So that’s where the crazy idea for a nemesis had come in. It had been his roommate, Travis’s, suggestion. Hire someone to fire him up outside work. Get his aggression out. It had seemed pure madness, but Liam was willing to give it a go. It couldn’t hurt.

      “Sure thing,” he told his boss, keeping his voice calm, cool. Collected. All while wishing he was on the playing field, barreling his way through his opponents. His fist flexed open and closed before he even realized what he was about.

      “See you tomorrow.”

      “Thanks, Greg. Have a nice night.”

      “Got a hot date actually,” Greg said, adjusting his tie with a grin. “So I can guarantee my night will be much more than nice.”

      Greg wasn’t a bad-looking guy, though he was short. Liam supposed a woman in search of an arrogant asshole as a companion would find him attractive. But it did burn his britches a bit that Greg was scoring and he was not. He hadn’t been on a date in three months, hadn’t had sex in longer than that. Which might be because he refused to do dating sites and apps, finding the concept bizarre and impersonal. There were eight million people in New York. It shouldn’t be so bloody hard to find an attractive woman in her twenties who’d want to date an Irishman. Didn’t American women like sexy accents?

      But when he spent all his time in a cubicle or with a bunch of sweaty rugby players, cute girls were few and far between. Though he’d worry about his sex life later after he got a handle on the whole wanting to stuff Greg’s bollocks back inside his body thing. One step at a time.

      “Enjoy yourself, then,” he told Greg. “I’m off for a run.” He reached under his desk for his gym bag.

      Greg made a face. “It’s Friday, man, loosen up.”

      Uh-huh. He was working on that. Though he’d never thought of himself as uptight. It was just that he’d spent his growing-up years swinging a stick or tossing a ball or rowing a boat. Being sedentary was making him tense.

      Ten minutes later he had changed and was heading down in the elevator with three other people. The guy who’d responded to his impulsive ad, Sam, had sent him a text. Liam had briefly wondered if it was wise to give a total stranger his number, but he figured he could always block the guy if things took a downturn.

      What’s on tap for your weekend? Expanding your beer gut?

      Fighting the urge to take a selfie of his abs to prove that he did not have a beer gut, Liam responded. Running home from work actually.

      Jogging or you mean that figuratively?

      Literally. I am running.

      Or he was about to, anyway. It was exactly four miles from his office in Midtown through Central Park to his apartment.

      Shit. Did he admit that?

      He was trying to reach five miles. But it was Friday, after all. He had plans with Travis to grab a pint later.

      How many miles?

      Four.

      So you’re sixty-three years old then?

      Damn it.

      Twenty-seven.

      Then you can go the extra mile. Ha-ha. Pun intended.

      Liam laughed as the elevator dinged open and he followed the petite woman in front of him out. She glanced back and gave him a sour look. Feeling lighter already, he just smiled at her. She was unmoved. Cranky. Liam didn’t want to morph into that type of person. Not even leaving the office on a Friday made this woman happy? Not good. It had heart attack written all over it.

      He texted Sam back. Fine. I’ll push for five.

      You got this, man.

      There was something odd about texting with a person he’d never met. Liam knew people did it all the time. They met on dating sites, answered ads for everything from apartments to bikes and had no problem with it. But to Liam, it felt foreign, unnatural. He needed a face to visualize. He needed to know the guy he was communicating with wasn’t a complete and total freak. Any more than the average freak. Otherwise, it was like texting with a nonentity and he wasn’t comfortable with it. Maybe it would make sense to meet up with Sam for a pint, just to get the guy’s measure.

      I’ll text you when I’m done. But we should probably plan on meeting up in the next day or two and make some payment arrangements.

      I’m out of town this weekend.

      Monday then? I get off work at six. I can meet you anytime after that. Where do you live?

      Brooklyn. So how will I know you actually jogged the five miles?

      You’ll have to trust me. I’m the one who wants the benefit, remember?

      Liam stepped out onto the street, appreciating the temperate fall weather. It was the perfect day for a run, crisp and clear. Putting his phone away, he started down the sidewalk, weaving in and out of the crowd of people. He didn’t imagine he’d ever get used to the sheer volume of human beings in New York. The town he’d grown up in was on the coast, a fishing village filled with colorful cottages and colorful characters. It was small, intimate, rainy, and a bit tired about the edges. Nothing like Manhattan at all, and while he loved his adopted city, there were СКАЧАТЬ