I pause. “Yes?”
“I wanted to let you know I submitted your reference letter last night,” Heather tells me. “For nursing school.”
“Thank you so much, Heather.” Now I feel guilty for thinking critical thoughts about her meeting. She’s been really kind about the reference letter.
I’m almost to the elevator when I realize I forgot my water bottle at my cubicle, so I turn and head back down the hall.
And as I pass Heather’s office, I hear voices that make me freeze in my tracks.
“ . . . surprised she didn’t ask Dr. Malone for a reference letter.” That sounds like Janine.
There’s a giggle, then Heather’s voice. “Can you imagine what he’d write? ‘Alexandra is incredibly talented . . . in bed.’”
There’s more laughter as I take a step closer. Now I can see them both, but thanks to the angle of the door, I’m pretty sure they can’t see me.
“I have to say, though,” Heather continues. “They’ve lasted a hell of a lot longer than I expected. I thought he’d have moved on by now.”
“She must be very,verytalented.”
“Must be,” Heather snarks. “But I wouldn’t have thought Drew Malone was the kind of man to be led around by his dick.”
Okay. That’s enough. I pull myself up by my spine and force myself to walk through the door into the office.
“I bewitched him with my magic pussy,” I say flatly.
Heather gapes at me like a shocked goldfish, and Janine doesn’t look much better. Under different circumstances, I might have gotten some satisfaction from their expressions, but I’m way beyond that now. It took all the strength I had to deliver that sentence.
“I quit,” I announce. To my relief, the words come out clear and strong. I make it out of Heather’s office with my head high, then hurry toward the elevator. I don’t know where I’m going, I just know I need to get away from Heather.
I feel nauseated and shaky and stupid. And incredibly, pitifully, naïve. I really thought Heather respected me, but clearly, she was just being nice because I’m dating Drew. And I realize a lot of people have probably been doing the same.
A few minutes later, I find myself outside the main hospital entrance. I collapse on a bench to think about what to do next.
Ironically, this is the same place Drew and I talked about the plan for our fake relationship, after he told the Tates I was his girlfriend.
Ourfakerelationship.
It’s funny how a change in perspective can make the same situation look entirely different, and my perspective’s changed completely now. I try to tell myself that Heather and Janine are just bitchy and bitter, but it doesn’t help.
I have to look at the facts. Drew made it very clear he didn’t want a relationship. We agreed to fake it for three months, so it wouldn’t look like I was having a fling with him, and to give him an excuse to turn Nina down.
And when his sister suggested I join them to visit his dad at the end of August, Drew shut her down right away. Of course he did, because our arrangement will have ended by then.
And our physical chemistry? There’s no doubt we’ve got that, but Drew refused to sleep with me until I told him I wasn’t looking for a relationship either.
So while part of me wants to tell Drew exactly what Heather said, I can’t do it. I have no doubt he’d ride in to play the white knight to my distressed damsel, but I can’t put him in that position. The last thing he needs is a conflict with Heather. He’s stupidly overworked, and he’s done more than enough for me already.
And if I tell him about this, he might feel obligated to extend our fake relationship, just to make a point. It would be a kind thing to do, but would be a mistake. I need to end this now, before I fall any more in love with him than I already am.
Yep. I’m in love with Drew Malone. I convinced myself that when he said he wasn’t looking for a relationship, he just hadn’t met the right woman, and the right woman was me.
I take a deep breath and start to walk home. Fortunately, I had my purse with me when I walked out, so I won’t have to go back to the hospital. I’ve left a few things behind in my cubicle, but nothing I care about. Heather can decide what to do with my cardigan, my water bottle, and my emergency pack of Sour Patch Kids.
As I let myself into Drew’s condo, my phone chimes with an alert that tells me Sarah Hayes has just won her first round match at Wimbledon. I pull up our message thread and congratulate her.
As I hit send, I remember Sarah’s suggestion that I work as her personal assistant. All of a sudden, it looks perfect. I no longer have a job at the hospital; even if I hadn’t told Heather I was quitting, I couldn’t go back there.
And working for Sarah would get me out of Somerset and away from Drew. I can’t face him right now. I don’t want to tell him what Heather said, but I don’t think I can pretend there’s nothing wrong. He knows me too well for that.
