“Let go of my neck,” I grunt out. My vision is dimming.

“You first.” She’s breathing like an angry bull.

Screw that. She started this thing, so I’m going to end it. Closing the cord in my fist, I punch her in the thigh.

Her leg collapses as she screams in pain.

Yeah, let me introduce you to a charley horse, bitch. I have an older sister, and I know how to stop a headlock like nobody’s business.

Her grip on me falls away, and I stand, shoving her as hard as I can. The adrenaline gives me superpowers, which combined with her featherweight status, send her flying. She lands on her back over the side of her chair. It tips over and dumps her on the floor.

I land next to her ribs on my knees, grabbing one of her hands and wrapping the cord around it super fast. She’s like a calf in one of those rodeos. Before she can recover from her charley horse pains, I grab her other hand and tie it up too. The headphones hit my hand as I reach the end of their tether.

“What are you doing?!” she yells, panting after. I think I punched her a little too hard or something. She sounds like she’s in serious pain.

“Tying you up until you can settle down.”

“You’d better run,” she growls, struggling against my lame tying job. I have no way to knot the cord, so it’s only a matter of time before she escapes and tries to kill me.

I search the immediate area for a solution. The only things there are the two chairs.

I grab one and flip it over, dropping it over her, the back of the chair on her right side, the arms on her left. It makes a bridge over her tied hands. Leaning over it, using my weight to keep it there, I hang over her beet-red face.

“Say uncle and I’ll let you up.”

“I’ll say uncle when I have a knife to your throat, not before.” She’s practically spitting, she’s so mad.

I blink a few times, trying to figure out if she’s serious. She sure looks like she is.

“You’d use a knife on me?” I’m kind of hurt by the idea. I feel pretty confident that she wouldn’t do that to any of the guys, even if she were this mad at them.

She doesn’t answer. She just glares at me while she continues to struggle. She’s probably pretty close to getting the cord off, but with me on top of this chair, she’s not going to get very far.

“Let me out,” she says, her voice calmer. It’s kind of a deadly calm, though, so I don’t trust it at all.

“Can’t. I don’t want to die today.” I grin at her. This whole thing is too ridiculous. We’re two grown women and we’re fighting like children. At work! I pray none of the guys comes back here and catches us.

“Then you shouldn’t have attacked me.”

I frown. “Hey, that’s not fair. You moved first. I just defended myself.”

“You asked for it.”

I shake my head. “Huh-uh. I asked you to explain why you were acting jealous about me being here with Ozzie. It was a fair question.”

She stares at me for so long, I’m starting to think she’s suffering from lack of oxygen or something.

“Are you going to say anything?” I finally ask.

“I’m not sure I should.” Her chin goes up a fraction.

“Why not?”

“Because. You probably won’t even be here next week.”

“Says who?”

“Says me.”

“Wow. Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“You don’t belong here.”

“Ow.” I rub my chest with one hand. “That actually kind of hurt.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I’m serious.”

“See? You’re too sensitive. You don’t belong here. Why don’t you do everyone a favor and just bow out gracefully?”

“Is that what you’d do?”

“No, of course not.”

“Then I’m not going to do it either.”

“You’re not me. We’re nothing alike.”

Obviously I’ve insulted her by basically telling her I admire her. How’s that for screwed up?

“Maybe I want to be more like you,” I say, experimenting with the truth. “Maybe I want to be tougher, more self-reliant.”

She searches my face, maybe looking for evidence that I’m not yanking her chain. She’s obviously conflicted. I’ve paid her a pretty high compliment, but will it be enough to break through her anger at me? I’m starting to think I know where her emotion might be coming from.

“We’re too different,” she finally says.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.” I ease some of my weight off the chair. “I’m new to the team, but I care about everyone here. I respect all of you a lot. I know how hard you work, how loyal you are to each other. I know you all want to make Ozzie proud and that he’s a great boss. I know until I got here, you were the only woman on the team, and now things are going to change with two women being here.”

When she looks away, I know I’ve figured it out. Or at least I’ve come close.

“But it doesn’t have to take anything away from you. From your accomplishments. From your skills.”

“You fly the Parrot better than I do,” she whispers. Tears gather in the corner of her eyes. I can tell it makes her angry to show that small weakness. Her expression becomes mutinous again.

“So? You kick ass better than I do.” I try to smile, but she glares at me anyway.

“Says the girl sitting on me with a chair. You tied me up with my own headphones, May.”

“You called me ‘May.’” I reach down and poke her on the nose. She’s so cute when she’s mad. It makes me happy that she left that Bo Peep stuff behind.

“Slip of the tongue.” She’s trying to hold on to her anger, but I’m not going to let her.

“How about if we make a deal?” I propose.

“What deal?”

“I promise to show you how to fly that stupid thing, and you give me a chance to prove myself worthy of your respect.”

She looks anywhere but at me. A tear slips out of her right eye and travels down into her hair.

“I don’t need another friend,” she finally says. Her eyes move to meet mine, and she’s glaring again.

“I’m not asking for your friendship. I’m asking for your respect.” It makes me sad to say that, but it’s true. If she doesn’t want to be my friend, I can’t force her to. I’m not sure I’ve ever been so clearly rejected, though. I wasn’t kidding before; it hurts.

“Earn it and you’ll have it,” she says, letting out a long hiss of air after.

“Just give me one chance.”

“Done. Now let me up.”

The devil takes control of my mouth again. “Not until you say uncle.”

She glares, but I just keep on grinning.

Her voice comes out low and threatening. “If you ever tell anyone I said uncle, I will stab you while you sleep.”

I laugh. “Say it, or Ozzie’s going to be serving you dinner under this chair.”

Her teeth grind together for a few seconds before she finally speaks. “Uncle. Now get the hell off me.”

I push off the chair and stand back, waiting for the angry mess of a non-friend to get up and attempt to kill me.

But she doesn’t do anything to me. She just gets up, rights the chairs, and untangles her headphones from her wrists. When she’s done, she sits down, puts the equipment on, and starts the recording again.

I cautiously take my seat and press the button on the video, watching her out of the corner of my eye as I get back to work. The ninja sneak attack that I’m expecting for the next three hours never comes.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Are you ready?” Dev asks, coming across the warehouse and rubbing his hands together.

I put my hand in my purse and wrap my fingers around the Taser inside. “Ready for what?”

“Car shopping.” He looks confused. “Isn’t that what we’re going to do now?”

I pull my hand out of my purse. “Yeah, sure, of course. What did you think I was talking about?”

He points at me and winks. “Mental games. Good. I like your style.”