“It’s a secret.” I grin, biting my lip.
He frowns. “It’s not cookies…”
“Definitely not.”
“Cobbler?”
“Closer.” I lay a hand on his cheek. “It’ll be worth the wait. I promise.”
There’s a buzzing from Nicholas’s pocket, and he pulls out his phone and frowns.
“Something urgent from work?”
“No. A text from Noah.” He turns the phone so we can both see.
–Noah: Check this out! Nicholas, show it to Molly, too!
He attached a video. Nicholas clicks on it, and it shows the sidewalk outside of Get Jacked Gym. A few female voices are screaming profanities.
Suddenly, the door opens and Jack comes out. More cuss words.
“You fucker, I hope you get what’s coming to you!” a woman yells.
“Creep!”
“Hey, watch it!” Jack shouts back, his face red.
“Youwatchthis!”
A white object flies into his face and erupts into a spectacular explosion of yellow and clear liquid. I cover my mouth with my hand. “Did somebody just throw aneggat him?”
Nicholas squints, and his lips curve into a satisfied smile. “Looks like it.”
“I’m calling 911!” Jack yells.
“Do it, asshole! I’ll tell them how you grabbed my ass when I was working for you!”
“Pervert!”
These must be the former employees who left in disgust after Jack’s grotesque behavior. I never heard of this kind of incident happening at the gym, but maybe these women feel emboldened now that I filed a lawsuit against him.
“Guess they decided to confront him, since they realized there are others who got the same treatment,” Nicholas says. “It’ll be impossible for him to get away with anything now. Not when there are probably dozens of other women who can come out to discuss his sexual harassment. Hope he enjoys his jail cell.” His phone buzzes again.
–Grant: I wish I’d known. I would’ve shown up with a truckload of eggs!
I grin. Nicholas’s family’s support is as unconditional and automatic as the sun rising in the morning, and I’m so grateful for it. I turn to him. “Do you think there’s something we can do to help those women?”
“You mean like help them sue?”
I nod. “They probably want justice—like me—but maybe they can’t afford lawyers good enough to go after Jack.”
“I’ll speak with Jeremiah and see,” he says without hesitation. His generosity is always touching. It’s just the way he is, but I don’t think I’ll ever get used to just how magnanimous he can be.
“Thank you.”
The oven timer dings. I get up and open the oven, a blast of heat hitting me in the face. I pull the pan out with one mittened hand and place it on the kitchen counter, then pour carefully washed and dried blueberries on top of the bubbling purplish goo.
“What is that?” Nicholas comes over, then looks at me in alarm. “Are you okay?”
