“She said”—McCarthy’s voice rolls around the car—“that she wants you to leave her alone.”
I suppress a shiver.
“Who’s that?Who is that,Jenna?”
“No one, it’s just—”
“I knew it! I knew when you left me you were cheating on me with Nathan. Now you’re cheating on him with whoever the fuck that is. You’re such a slut. You’re a fucking slut, you know that? Fucking cheater. You disrespected me, emasculated me. Now you’re spreading your legs for this asshole? Hey, buddy, you can do a lot better than Jenna.”
My stomach churns, sour.
“She isn’t cheating on anyone, you piece of shit, and she’s certainly not getting my dick wet,” McCarthy snarls. “Don’t fucking call her again, or I’ll make sure you regret it.” He ends the call on my phone.
I sit there, hands clenched on the wheel, staring straight ahead, the traffic lights blurring through my watery eyes.
I can’t even look at McCarthy.
“Who the hell was that?” The deep voice finally cuts the humiliating silence.
“That wasn’t necessary. I don’t need you to—”
“Help you?” He spits the words. “You’re a little girl. You can’t even drive, much less handle a stalker. You’re making a police report. Get a restraining order. Then I have a state-sanctioned license to shoot him when he comes near you.”
“No, God, don’t shoot anyone! Bethany will kill me if you go to jail. Then fire me. Andreas isn’t dangerous. He’s just my ex-fiancé.”
Cold gray eyes bore into the side of my head. I refuse to meet them.
“You have terrible taste in men.” It’s said with finality.
And McCarthy is the worst.
6
JENNA
He’s fielding angry calls from his brother about the latest scandal when I pull up in front of the RDC office tower and start gathering my things, which are strewn around the car.
McCarthy’s glowering as Salinger’s voice cuts through the sound system.
“You’re going to fucking sit up in your office and go over that fucking plan she has, so help me—”
McCarthy hangs up on him.
“Where are you going?” he says, grabbing my arm. “You have a plan to go over.”
“Go yell at your interns.” I throw him off. “I can’t deal with you right now. I have a funeral I have to go to.”
There’s an unreadable expression on his face.
“Anyone… important?”
“Just my fiancé.”
“Oh, the one who doesn’t put out? What a horrible loss for humanity. I’ll have my assistant send flowers and a cheese basket with confetti.”
“No, sorry, my ex-fiancé.”
“Wait, he died?” McCarthy almost laughs a genuine laugh, his eyes widening.
