Then she glances over, a spark of mischief in her eye. “So… did you see Leo?”
I pause with a forkful of rice halfway to my mouth and roll my eyes. “Yes.”
“And?”
“And… he hates me.”
Her eyebrows shoot up.
“What? Not possible. Leo loves everybody.”
“He called meTrina.”
She nearly spits out her drink. “Shut up.”
“Dead serious. I corrected him, and then he said, ‘You’re the one who ditched her husband,’ like that is the sum of my life’s work. Congratulations, here is your trophy. We will carve this onto your gravestone when you die.”
Her mouth drops open in full horror. “No.”
“Oh yes. He’s lucky I was standing behind my desk, otherwise I probably would have kneed him in the dick.”
“Ugh, what an ass.” She stabs a spring roll like it insulted her personally.
“Exactly. And honestly? I don’t care if he likes me or not. I’m not interested in winning over every emotionally stunted man who can’t separate someone else’s choices from their own baggage. And besides, I’m only there for six months.”
She nods in agreement, then leans back against the arm of the couch, tucking one leg under her. “Okay, so, you’re gonna hate this, but based on his reaction, he might be fixated on you. Lord only knows what he’ll do with that.”
Yes, because that’s exactly what I need.
I cut her a sharp look. “Doubt it. You should have seen the look he gave me. I got the full body scan, and homeboy was NOT impressed.”
“First, it’s literally impossible for a man to not be physically attracted to you. Like, HAVE YOU SEEN YOUR BOOBS? And second, I’m not saying he’s for sure going to do anything,” she says, hands up. “I’m just saying—when it comes to women, Leo’s whole brand is indifference. If he didn’t care at all, he would’ve barelylooked at you. The fact that he stopped, glared, and offered a full body scan just from your mere presence? Top it off with shitty remarks and an intentional name fuck-up? That says you hit a nerve.”
I narrow my eyes. “So, not a romantic fixation. Just judgmental fixation.”
“Exactly,” Skye nods.
“Congratulations, you’re the human embodiment of his unresolved divorce trauma.”
I laugh despite myself and shake my head, setting my plate down and curling my legs beneath me. “Wow. Goals.”
She shifts her container of noodles to the side and softens. “Look, I should’ve warned you. He’s not normally that much of a dick. I mean, he can be. But this thing with you? That’s his shit, not yours.”
I glance at her. “What thing?”
She sighs. “Leo’s ex-wife left him a couple years ago. For her high school boyfriend, of all people. They’d been married since their early twenties, and then—bam—she reconnects with this dude online, bails on Leo, and is remarried within six months. Totally blindsided him.”
“Oof,” I mutter, instinctively reaching for my drink.
“Yeah. It wrecked him. So now, anytime he meets a woman who’s left her husband—even if the situations are not remotely the same—he goes straight into fight-or-flinch mode. This one night, we went out clubbing together as each other’s wingmen—you know, like ‘Have you met Ted?’ vibes—and I introduced him to this woman. I had no idea she’d just left her husband. She was gorgeous, smart, funny. Total catch. But the second the words ‘I left his boring ass’ left her lips, Leo tore into her so ruthlessly she started crying.”
My eyes widen. “Seriously?”
“We were asked to leave,” Skye says flatly, then shrugs. “Doesn’t excuse the way he acted toward you. But it does explainwhy he saw your face and immediately decided you were the villain in his little trauma screenplay.”
I blink. “So... I’m a trigger,” I say, not quite a question.
“Um, not quite a trigger. More like a mirror. That’s not the same thing.”
