I shift closer to him and rest a hand on his arm.
“Santa isn’t like that, Josh,” I try to assure him. “He’s a really nice guy.”
Like Heath, I want to add. But I don’t dare.
He looks at me as though I’ve lost my mind.
“You’ve bought into this Santa crap as well? Seriously? He’s a fucking founder.” He stares full on at Tiff, who is still sobbing. “Did you know he was a founder when you fucked him?”
“Yes. I knew he was a founder the moment I met him in the grotto,” she says.
“But you’d never seen his face. You’ve always been under a hood.”
“I didn’t need to see his face. I just knew. I knew the way he felt when I sat on him. I recognised him.” She rubs her temples, trying to explain it, and I understand. Being with the founders is so heightened. The sensations etched into your soul.
“I just knew, ok?” Tiff says. “And then I saw his eyes, and he saw mine, and the rest is history, as they say. Or in my case an absolute fucking nightmare.”
I hold the cushion tighter to my chest, hurting for her. Josh shakes his head, still trying to process things.
“Shit, Tiff,” he says.
I wish he’d tell her about Heath. I wish I could tell her about Heath. I wish we could assure her that these things happen and your heart has control over your head.
“It gets worse,” she says.
“Worse? Jesus, just take it from the top, will you?” Josh says, the concern for Tiff etched onto his face amidst the rage. “Fucking hell.”
Tiff takes it from the top. The very top. And whoa, what a story.
I listen, transfixed, my stomach lurching hardcore when her tale touches close to our own. I recognise her terror about The Agency. I recognise her heartbreak at loving someone forbidden.
Someone beautiful, inside as well as out.
Josh’s expression changes as Tiff’s story continues. He pulls her into him as she cries.
He quizzes her. She answers him. And he’s scared for her. He’s really scared for her.
I am, too.
I am well aware of how serious things get when it comes to the founders. We sure have it bad with such a high profile client on the go, but as for Tiff… it doesn’t bear thinking about.
“They’ve cancelled you, then?” Josh asks her, and I could throw up on her behalf.
She dashes for the bag she dropped in the hallway and scrabbles for her phone. She’s back on the sofa when she tries to call up the app, but it doesn’t show for her. Incognito mode or not, it doesn’t appear.
Holy fucking shit.
Josh calls up the app on his phone and she tries her login details, but no.Profile not recognised.
I feel such empathy for her panic. I recall exactly how I felt when I thought I was in her position, barred from my career. I search for her Creamgirl profile page myself, but there is no sign of it, and all of her forum posts have disappeared. Every single one.
There’s no doubting it now. She’s living the nightmare I thought I would be all those months ago.
She’s been kicked out of the Agency for real.
My heart bleeds for her. My soul cries for her. My face must mirror hers at the thought her career has been dropped into a void of no return.
Tiff screams and rocks and loses her fucking mind, and I sit mute as Josh soothes her, but soothing won’t help.
