If he was the snitch reporting back to Mr. Uptight, she was toast. Because there was no nice left in her today.
“I’d love to,” Marcus said, “but the internet’s down at the manor. I need to borrow yours until it’s restored.”
She grabbed a sticky note off the desk and held it up. “It says the internet is for paying customers. Andsince we’re not currently set up to take payment, guess what? You’re out of luck.”
He chuckled. “Still grouchy, I see.”
“You’d be grouchy too if Mr. Uptight was manipulating your life.”
Marcus’s nostrils flared. Just a twitch. “I’m sorry, who’s Mr. Uptight?”
“Nobody. Forget I said anything.”
“With a name like that,” he said, brushing hair off his forehead, “he sounds like a real delight. How’d he earn the title?”
“Just a guy who ruined my life.” Of course, her therapist disagreed. According to her, Frankie had ruined her own life one poor decision at a time.
“Ex-boyfriend?” Marcus asked.
“Darling, I don’t do boyfriends. I do weekend leases.” Then, with faux sympathy, “Turns out, commitment issues and good bone structure are a package deal.” She plucked a pen from the desk, twirled it, and gave him a once-over. “You might even qualify for the express plan.”
A smile started to tilt his lips, only to flatten, like she’d triggered a memory he’d rather forget. “Like today’s wig. What’s her name?”
She gave him a cool look. “Isabella P Chance.” She touched the edge of her blonde bob.
He squinted. “Why do I feel like that’s the name of a real person?”
“It’s a pseudonym,” she quickly covered. “I wear her when I need a reminder not to trust people.
“Right. Totally fictional.” He gave a slow nod. “So…what did she do to earn wig status?”
“I once gave her an opportunity…and the twit turned it into a flaming dumpster fire of career betrayal.”
“Career? I was under the assumption you were a woman of leisure.”
“My charity work is my career,” she snapped.
“Of course. Please, continue.”
“She was an exceptional volunteer. After a major event, I offered her a permanent position. The kind people would trade their favorite Chanel for.”
“And she turned you down?”
“Oh, not just that. She rejected the offer, then resurfaced in a lesser role at a competing charity.”
“And that was your career humiliation?”
“I mentored her. Thought we were friends. Her actions shouted she’d rather take a career demotion than work for me.”
“Brutal.”
Frankie gave the wig a final fluff. “That’s why I named this one after her. When I feel myself trusting someone, I pop her on and remember to trust no one.”
“She’s like your emotional armor.”
“Exactly. She pairs well with revenge and red lipstick.”
He settled at a nearby table, opened his laptop, and started typing.
