“Smooth sailing.”
“Appreciate you pitching in today, Lydia.”
“No problem, C. It’s always fun to be back.”
My gaze shifts over to Lot, perched on a stool at the far end of the counter with her usual extra dirty chai and a brown sugar cinnamon biscotti. “What’s up, bossman? You aw’right?”
“Fine,” I lie, my tone flat even to my ears. “Got some work to do. Let’s catch up next time.”
She quirks her eyebrows and slides off the stool. Her olive cargos with silver chains draped across the pockets create a look that’s all Lot and New York City. She crosses to me, wearing a top that reads: If You Can Read This, Back The Fuck Up.
Another time, I would’ve commented, now I just need to be alone.
“You never could lie worth shit,” she says.
“Not in the mood, Lot.” I head toward my office, but she follows, pushy as ever.
“You gonna tell me what’s going on, or do I have to wrestle it out of you?”
“Nothing to tell.” I shrug out of my coat, sink into my chair, and power up my computer.
“You can’t come dragging in here looking like you been put through the spin cycle and expect me to buy that shit. Spill it, C. I’ll give you a woman’s perspective.”
“I don’t needperspective,” I say, pulling up the order sheet. “Situation’s black-and-white.”
“Ha!” She shoots a “gotcha” smile. “So thereisa situation. Something happened between you and your Amazon, Lexie?”
“Her name’s not Lexie,” I snap,too fast to stop myself.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I exhale sharply, the words tasting bitter in my mouth. “Her name is Alexandra. Alexandra Townsen. As inTownsen Industries.”
Lot’s eyes widen with a pop, and for once, she’s momentarily speechless. “As in the company your dad?—”
“Yeah,” I cut in, my jaw clenched.
“Day-um.” She hitches a hip on the corner of the desk, her chains landing with a soft clink against the wood as she studies me. “That’s some next-level drama.”
I nod, and before I know it, the whole story pours out—the notesheleft me, what happened to Sophia, the boardroom disaster, and all the lies in between. When I finish, Lot shakes her head in disbelief.
“I’m shook, C. That shit is heavy. But first—how’s Soph?”
“Badly shaken.” My voice grows rough, emotion creeping beneath the rage. “But it could have been worse.”
Her tone softens with compassion, losing its usual glib edge. “Don’t even go there. She’s strong. She’ll get through this.”
“I know. It’s just hard seeing her like that.” I trail off, scrubbing a hand over my face. “Lexie—Alexandra—she wants to talk to Sophia. She said she won’t let the company cover it up, but how the hell can I believe a word she says?”
Lot tilts her head, considering. “I don’t blame you for being pissed, but let me ask you this: You spent every day with her for over a month. You really think it was all fake?”
“That’s exactly what it was.”
“I don’t know her, but I saw the way she looked at you. If that was an act, she’s got some Regina King-level talent ’cause I bought it.”
“So did I.”
“Then maybe it was real.”
