She did a double take. Had the video made the home page?
“No way.”
It was in her browser history. That’s why it was the first thing she saw. Had to be.
Yet, even as she begged her brain to believe the lie, Samiah knew better. She peeked over at the Trending tab and saw the still image of her mouth wide open, preparing to light into Craig’s lying ass. Denise was right, the video would definitely hit a million views before the end of the day.
She tipped her head back, releasing an aggrieved huff toward the ceiling. She wanted to take a nap and wake up to find all this humiliation behind her.
Samiah pushed away from her desk before she gave in to the urge to throw the monitor against the wall. For one thing, she’d probably hurt herself. Second, she doubted her boss would appreciate the destruction of company property.
She grabbed theWORLD’S GREATEST AUNTIEmug Denise and Bradley had given her—their way of announcing that, after four years of trying, they’d finally gotten pregnant—and went in search of a caffeine boost. She’d blown past her two-cup limit an hour ago, but it was either caffeine or alcohol, and Saturday night had put her way over her limit. Her boss probably wouldn’t approve of alcohol consumption on the job either.
The moment she walked out of her office, the redhead from Quality Assurance, with bad acne and a penchant for wearing plaidflannel shirts like her grandfather used to wear, approached her. He held his phone up to her face.
“Snapping a pic for my roommate. He didn’t believe me when I told him I work with you,” he said, his thumbs flying across his phone screen.
Stunned, Samiah just stood there, watching him walk away. Was this how it would be from now on? Being accosted by coworkers whose names she didn’t even remember?
No. She wouldn’t allow it. She just had to make it through today. The fervor over her encounter with Craig would die down and things would get back to normal.Just make it through the damn day.
She inhaled and exhaled, allowing the deep, calming breath to flow through her.
There. That’s better.
She rounded the wall that separated Trendsetters’ kitchen from the rest of the office and sent up a silent prayer of thanks when she found it relatively empty. It wouldn’t be that way for long. This was more than just a place to heat up leftovers for lunch; it was the epicenter of the entire office.
A half-dozen octagonal alcoves were cut into the walls, housing individual booths that were designed more for impromptu breakout sessions than eating. That was normally reserved for the twelve-foot-long frosted-glass bar, with a dozen stools on either side. The kitchen area’s left wall housed two stainless-steel microwaves, an industrial refrigerator, and a beverage cooler stocked with juices, sodas, and most recently, kombucha. Taylor would be proud.
To the right was the coffee bar, which rivaled anything you’d find in a coffee shop. At the press of a button one could enjoy a cappuccino, macchiato, latte, or any number of beverages. An array of coffee and tea accompaniments resided next to the space-age coffee machine, from flavored syrups to individually wrapped chocolate-covered spoons.
As usual, Samiah opted for straight black coffee. On occasion she’d add a couple pumps of toffee syrup when she was feeling fancy. Today wasn’t a fancy kind of day. The lingering effects of those Moscow Mules from Saturday night demanded nothing less than the strongest coffee she could find.
“Hey, hey, hey! It’s our own Real Housewife!”
Samiah cringed at the sound of Peter Stawell’s voice. She turned and immediately wanted to slap the jovial grin from his face. Why did everyone think this was some kind of joke? This was herlifethat had been plastered across the Internet for everybody and their mamas to judge.
Peter nudged her arm. “I have to say, I’m disappointed a catfight didn’t break out between you and that girl with the braids. She looks like she can throw down.”
“Oh, do you want me to contact her for you?” Samiah asked with exaggerated enthusiasm. “I’m sure she’d be willing to demonstrate by kicking your ass.”
Peter’s smile disappeared. “I was just kidding around. Sheesh, Samiah, don’t take things so seriously.”
Yep. She should have taken the day off.
A week ago, she would have apologized to Peter for being a bitch. After what happened Saturday night—and the public’s reaction to it, how people now felt as if her private life was a free-for-all—she felt justified in her bitchiness. She had no intention of apologizing ever again.
She grabbed her coffee mug from underneath the espresso spout and started for her office. She dipped her head down to blow the hot coffee and nearly crashed into a firm chest covered with an oatmeal-colored vest.
“Whoa.” Two strong hands gripped her upper arms, steadying her.
Samiah looked up and had to remind herself to take a breath. Who’d ordered this midmorning snack in khakis and loafers?
“You okay?” he asked.
His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown. Almost like honey. Or was that considered hazel?
Stop staring.
