Ariel says that I attract negativity by jumping straight to the worst-case scenario. But I didn’t do it this time, and it still didn’t work in my favor. I thought I would at least get as far as Bash’s office before it all came crashing down around me.
Then a voice behind me says, “It’s okay, Richard, I’ll escort Ms. Jones upstairs.”
I recognize the long silvery hair tied back into a small ponytail. It’s Terry. Bash’s stepdad and head of security.
He doesn’t smile. I guess it wouldn’t sit well with the black suit and holster around his waist even though I clearly don’t pose a threat.
I follow him to the elevator and step inside when the door swishes open.
“Thank you, I didn’t think to make an appointment. I only want to speak to Ba-Mr. Murray. I won’t take up too much of his time.” I’m rambling to fill the silent void.
“Don’t thank me yet.” He faces the control panel until the elevator halts smoothly.
What’s that supposed to mean? There isn’t time to ask him.
I follow him out of the elevator and into a room with squashy sofas surrounding a low glass coffee table almost the size of my entire dorm room.
“Take a seat, Remy.”
My heart is thumping too loudly for me to figure out if Terry is on my side or not. Does he know about me? Did Bash mention me in passing?Remember the croupier who lost her keys? Yeah, we fucked twice before she quit her job.
I sit down, my face hot, my pulse so fast, I’m struggling to breathe.
Has Bash been waiting for me to come back or does he know about the pregnancy? That’s impossible, I tell myself. I only had the ultrasound today. He might have connections in high places, but the nurse didn’t look like the kind of person who would break patient confidentiality for a small bribe. What about a big bribe though?
I talk myself around in circles and stand up. Terry disappeared through another door, which means that the elevator is currently unmanned. I could reach it before Bash finds an excuse not to see me. Go back to the residence halls. Cry on Ariel’s shoulder about what a wimp I am and figure out my next move.
But then he enters the room, his hair shorter than it was the night I lost my keys, and my heart performs the kind of dangerous somersault that would be banned from the Olympics.
Our eyes meet. Everything I wanted to say to him vanishes when he looks at me, and I know that if he pulled me into his arms, I’d be a gooey pliable mess of want.
“Remy.” He seems to have taken root while he figures out why I’m here. “I wasn’t expecting you.”
“I’m not here to ask for my job back.”
My mouth is dry. There’s a jug of water and small glass tumblers on the coffee table, but they’re not for me. They’ll probably be for his next meeting, the one that I’m delaying by turning up unannounced.
“Why are you here?”
This is it. This is the part where he tells me that it was only a bit of fun, that he didn’t expect me to take anything he said seriously, that he’s very sorry about the job, but it was out of his remit.
Then the door through which he entered opens a second time, and Bastien Murray comes in. Only, it can’t be Bastien Murray, because he is already here. Or at least I thought he was.
I blink. Hard. Waiting for the illusion to shatter.
It doesn’t. I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. The second guy looks like Bastien Murray, but his hair is a little longer, like it was the night I lost my keys, before he had it cut.
Realization seeps slowly through my pores and settles deep inside my gut.
They’re twins.
And I slept with both of them.
9
CASH
“Remy! You came back!”
