“Sit.” He gestures to the couch, not the chairs across from his desk.
I sink onto the leather, suddenly exhausted. “I already gave you the Montana notes.”
“I know.” He moves to the bar cart in the corner, pouring amber liquid into two glasses. “But you needed an exit.” He hands me a glass and sits beside me. He is close enough that my pulse kicks up for reasons that have nothing to do with Damon.
“How much did you hear?” I ask.
“Enough.” He takes a sip of his whiskey. “What does he have on you?”
Straight to the point. No preamble. Very Ansel.
I could lie. I should lie. But I’m so tired of carrying this alone.
“When I was in college, I hacked into the university’s financial system.” The words tumble out. “There werediscrepancies, funds disappearing. I proved the CFO was embezzling. I delivered all of the evidence anonymously, of course. But they fired him and restructured everything. However, I did it without authorization. So, technically, it was illegal.”
Ansel’s brow quirks up. “And?”
And?I just confessed to a crime.
“And Damon is threatening to report it if I don’t quit.”
“He’s bluffing.”
“Maybe.” I set my glass down. “But he’s right about one thing. If he reports this, the investigation would be a nightmare. For your company and for me.”
Ansel stands abruptly, and for a second, I think he’s going to leave. Instead, he pulls out his phone and dials.
“Get in here. Now.” He ends the call without waiting for a response.
“What are you doing?”
“Ending this.” His jaw is tight, and I realize he’s furious. Not at me. But for me.
The door opens. Damon walks in with his usual swagger, but he falters when he sees me on the couch.
Ansel stands between us. His voice is deadly quiet. “Close the door.”
Damon does, wariness creeping into his features. “What’s this about?”
“You threatened Remy.”
“I don’t know what she told you, but?—”
“Don’t.” Ansel’s single word stops him cold. “Don’t lie to me. I heard the entire conversation.”
Damon’s face flushes. “Fine. I threatened her. But I wasn’t actually going to turn her in. I just want her to leave.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Having her here is hard, Ansel. I still have feelings for her.”
The room goes silent.
I can’t process what he just said. Damon has feelings for me? From where I’m sitting, it looks more like a bruised ego and control issues. But sure. Let’s call it feelings.
Ansel goes completely still, and when he speaks, his tone is colder than I’ve ever heard it. “Let me make sure I am understanding you correctly. You have feelings for her, so you want to ruin her life?”
“Fuck.” Damon looks at me with desperation in his eyes. “No. Well, maybe. I don’t know.”
Ansel closes his eyes and shakes his head in disbelief. “I can’t look at you right now.”
Damon throws up his hands in desperation. “What the fuck, Ansel?”
