She definitely knows.
We’ve been careful. Or at least we’ve tried to be. He’s been staying at my apartment, true, but we arrive at different times, leave at different times. Well okay, the last three days, we’ve been leaving at the same time. But long after everyone else has already gone home. And in meetings, he barely looks at me.
But apparently we’re not careful enough.
“Board prep,” I say flatly. “Lots of documents to review.”
“Mmhmm.” Piper’s attention returns to her computer screen, but the damage is done.
I walk to my desk outside Nico’s office, setting down my coffee with slightly more force than necessary. Through the glass walls, I can see him at his standing desk, phone pressed to his ear, one hand raking through his dark hair in that frustrated way that means someone’s giving him bad news.
Even annoyed, he’s unfairly attractive. The scar tissue along his cheeks only adds to the intensity of his face rather than detracts from it.
Focus.
You have actual work to do.
I pull up my email and start sorting through the morning’s chaos.
At ten o’clock I’m grabbing a fresh coffee from the break room when I notice two junior staff members from accounting at the small table. They’re mid-conversation, laughing about something, but the second I walk in they go silent.
Not quiet.
Silent.
Like mid-sentence, as if someone hit the mute button on reality.
“Morning,” I say, forcing brightness into my tone.
“Morning.” One of them replies. I think her name is Madison. Or maybe Morgan. Something with an M.
I pour my coffee. The silence stretches.
“Beautiful weather we’re having,” I try.
Oh my god, did you seriously just comment on the weather? What are you, seventy?
M-name woman mumbles something noncommittal. Her colleague suddenly becomes very interested in her phone.
I take my coffee and leave.
The heat in my cheeks doesn’t fade until I’m back at my desk.
Noon. I’m halfway through a yogurt I don’t taste when Cressida materializes at my desk with a file folder.“Hey, Bree. Do you have the finalized headcount for the donor dinner? Elspeth’s asking.”
“Eighty-three confirmed, twelve maybes still pending.” I pull up the spreadsheet. “I’ll send you the updated list in five minutes.”
“Perfect, thanks.” But she doesn’t leave. Instead, she sets the folder down and perches on the edge of my desk, angling herself so anyone walkingby would think we’re just two colleagues chatting. “So. Completely unrelated question.”
Oh no.
“I’m not sure how to say this.” She nods slowly, like she’s choosing her words carefully. “It’s just... and I’m only mentioning this because I like you and I’d want someone to tellme... there’s been some... chatter.”
Chatter.
That word.
That fucking word.
