“You naughty girl, I thought you looked a little disheveled when you came back to the table.”
“I wasn’t disheveled,” I argued, feeling flustered. “Seriously, Hayley, who told you about that?”
Hayley pulled out her phone and showed me the screen.
I immediately wanted to crawl under my desk and hide. There, in full color, was a picture of me holding onto Lucas with Alan’s help as we tried to get him into the back of a cab.
“What the hell?” I grabbed her phone and scanned the article, if you could call it that. It was posted on some sort of gossip blog devoted to soccer players. “Lucas Bradley and Alan Cole seen with mystery woman. Witnesses claimed the three later went home together.”
“Wait, I never went home with anyone,” I protested shrilly, my face growing hot. I shoved the phone back in Hayley’s hands. “That’s a load of crap.”
“So you weren’t railroaded by two of the hottest football players in the country?” Hayley asked a little too eagerly.
“Oh my god,” I groaned, covering my face with my hands.
“You can tell me, I won’t say anything.” Hayley dropped her voice into a whisper. “I understand, I’d probably do the same thing. They’re two fine pieces of man.”
“I was not…railroadedby two football players,” I said a little too loudly. I took a deep breath, trying to control my rising anger. “That’s disgusting. I’d never…I wouldn’t…do people actually believe this stuff?”
“Well, according the comments on this blog—yes,” Hayley looked at her phone again. “Britgal123 says ‘They look like they’re getting ready to have a good time.’ KyleWNotts says ‘She looks like she can deep throat a sausage or two.’ Then computerraider says ‘Proper slag. Some women will do anything for a piece of cock—”
“Sheesh, I get it, Hayley. I don’t need to hear all that,” I exclaimed. I felt sick. And humiliated.
Who saw this? I glanced around the office, feeling as if everyone was staring. Maybe I was just being paranoid.
“Everyone’s seen it,” Hayley confirmed and I groaned.
“It makes me look like a complete slut.” I felt like crying.
“Eh, maybe a little. But most people are mad impressed that you’ve gotten friendly with the likes of Lucas Bradley and Alan Cole. And they’re jealous too. Because people are a bunch of wankers.” Hayley was trying to be nice, I suppose, but it wasn’t helping.
“I can’t believe this. I’ve been in this goddamned country for less than a month and I’m already labeled—what do you guys call it?”
“A slag. Slapper. Tart. Trollup—”
“Okay, thanks,” I interrupted.
“So, if there wasn’t a ménage, what exactly did happen between you and Lucas Bradley and Alan Cole? Obviously you were together at some point. And more importantly, why didn’t you tell us all about it?” she asked accusingly.
I sighed. I had no plans on telling Hayley what really happened between Lucas and me in that bathroom. That would have to go with me to the grave. Particularly now that my face was all over the gossip sites.
“I wasn’t feeling well. I thought I was going to be sick. I went to the bathroom. I didn’t get sick, just in case you were wondering.”
Hayley pursed her lips. “Yes, I’m so glad you didn’t vomit. Now tell me the important stuff.”
I had to smirk. I actually liked Hayley. Sure she was a little on the nosy side, but I appreciated her candor. Out of all the people I had met in the last couple of weeks, she was by far the easiest to be around.
“Well, I was in the bathroom. I washed my hands and tried to stop myself from falling over. Remind me never to drink like that again.”
“Light weight,” Hayley teased.
“I was in there minding my own business and Lucas busted into the bathroom, end of story.” I turned back to my computer, already tiring of talking about it. I opened my email and saw that I had a message from my boss, Peter Richardson, asking for a meeting in an hour.
It was marked urgent.
That didn’t sound good.
Had I done something wrong already?
