Bigwig

Finally, slowly, nearly a whisper, he murmured, "I don't think you know what you want."
"You don't think I know what I want?" I repeated with a spluttered laugh of shock.
"Yeah," he replied, not providing any further explanation for his statement.
I held up my drink in show. "A night out." I nodded slightly toward him, telling him without telling him how annoying I found his presence. "Peace and quiet."
His lips lifted at the corner, but his eyes were still thoughtful, watchful. "No."
"No?"
"No."
And for a reason I couldn't rightly describe, a thought occurred to me: It's not a comfortable feeling to experience, that bone-deep itchiness that makes you squirm out of your skin; yet... you've got to admit, there's something so satisfying in scratching.

...

Rebecca Kessler is many things: a shark, a gunner, a kiss ass. But she's also well on her way to making partner at her firm. All's going as planned until her former law school rival, Moti "Jonathan" Munshi, is hired to work alongside her. Moti frustrates her. He questions her work-life balance, newfound privilege, and shark-like ambitions at every turn. But worse than that, he's tempting. Who, after all, doesn't crave a little enemies-to-lovers? Still, enemies will be enemies and when their unresolved history and constant bickering proves too much for Rebecca, she needs a reprieve.

Luckily for her, the fun and ease of playboy heir George Harkins is just a call away. Fun, however, does not come easily for someone as tightly-wound as Rebecca. How could it? This isn't a romcom and Rebecca is no heroine. She's riddled with anxiety, constantly on the edge of a manic episode, incapable of having an honest conversation with her sister, and actively repressing a past she's spent ten years running from.