“Right then.” I force brightness into my voice, the same tone I use when Craig humiliates me in meetings. “Let’s forget it happened. Blame it on the sea air.”
He nods, looking almost relieved, and something inside me cracks.
The engine roars to life, loud enough to kill any chance of more conversation. His shoulders stay rigid, self-loathing written all over him.
On the boat, for those few minutes, I felt powerful. Desired. Like maybe I was someone worth wanting.
Now I’m just silly little Georgie again, reaching for things she can’t have, being shipped off home as quickly as possible before I can cause any more embarrassment.
Isn’t this the promise I made to myself?
That I’d never let a man make me feel small again? Never twist myself into knots wondering what I did wrong when it’s their feelings they can’t handle?
Yet here I am, shrinking into my seat, making myself smaller, already preparing apologies for existing too loudly in his space.
I’ve lived this story before. Memorized every painful beat of it.
The only difference this time is that I can see the ending coming.
I push through the cottage door.
It was nothing. A moment of madness brought on by sun and sea air. Patrick was right to stop it—we work together; he’s my boss’s boss’s boss. The smart thing is to pretend it never happened and try to salvage whatever scraps of professional dignity I have left.
Fee’s sprawled on a yoga mat in the living room, ankle behind her head.
“Oh, you’re back,” she says, without untangling herself. “How was it then?”
Without any warning, I burst into tears.
What the actual fuck?
She scrambles up so fast she nearly crashes into the coffee table. “What happened?” Her eyes bulge. “Jesus, your hair. You look like you’ve been through a hedge backward.”
Brilliant.
I wave my hands frantically, trying to signal that everything’s fine through the sobbing.
“I’m so embarrassed.” I sniff. “This is the second time I’ve cried in front of you. That’s not normal housemate behavior.”
My brain scrambles for an excuse,anyexcuse. I could blame Riri. I can’t tell Fee. She works for McLaren Hotels.
Except I feel like I might explode if I don’t tell someone.
“Please don’t tell anyone, but we... kissed.”
Her eyes go huge. “You andPatrick McLaren?”
The disbelief in her voice says everything. Like saying a sparrow kissed an eagle.
“No, me and a passing seal. Yes,Patrick.” I swipe my nose with my sleeve. “Sorry. That was snarky.”
“It’s okay. You’re upset,” she says softly. “But what happened? Why are you crying like this? Oh my God, did he force himself on you?”
“No! God, no. He would never—” I shake my head, horrified that she’d even think that. “We kissed and then afterward he just... shut down completely. Like it was this massive mistake he needed to undo as fast as possible.”
I drag the backs of my hands over my cheeks to dry them.
“Oh, love,” Fee murmurs. “I’m really sorry.”
