That mantra did little to ease Caleb’s irritation when he realized the interview he’d set up the previous night by email was going to be with Wes Mercer, who predictably smirked when Caleb arrived at the Bittech building for his ten a.m. appointment. “Well, look at what dragged itself into my office.” If by office, a windowless room loaded with monitors counted. Pride made Caleb want to spin on his heel and say fuck it. Pride also made him stay because he had people depending on him. “I like this about as much as you do, which means not fucking much.” “Pretty stupid thing to say considering you’re here looking for a job.” Wes leaned back in his seat and steepled his fingers, a smirk on his lips. Caleb set his jaw and held his fists tight at his sides, resisting the temptation to wipe the smirk off Wes’s face. “Not stupid, honest. I’m not going to pretend I suddenly like you.
