“Is that where you were yesterday, getting laid? Good for you. Who’s the guy?”
“Uh…” I try desperately to think of a response.
“Did you take a picture? Is he hot? Is he huge?”
“We didn’t actually...” My stomach flip-flops as Salinger appears next to me.
“I need to talk to Jeffrey’s team about the Zenith Tech account. Can you send the summary file to my tablet?” His fingers briefly blink-and-you’ll-miss-it adjust the collar of the shirt at the back of my neck.
But Jess doesn’t miss anything.
“Sure thing, Mr. Svensson.” I ignore my friend and turn back to face my computer, sending the file to his tablet as he stalks back into his office.
Jess’s fingers dig in my arm. “That’s Salinger’s shirt.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Where were you last night?”
“Keep your voice down.”
“Oh my god.” Jess claps her hands over her mouth. “You slept with him. You slept with our boss.”
“No, no, no, no. Lies and baseless rumors. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.”
“You spent the night in that man’s house, and nothing happened?” She raises an eyebrow.
I can’t stop chewing on my lip. “Fine, he kissed me but—”
Jess shrieks and slaps her hands over hermouth again.
“I think he was… I don’t know, having some sort of psychotic break or something,” I say. “Like, a normal man doesn’t kiss his assistant then tell her he’s going to fuck her on the floor.”
Jess is staring at me, her mouth hanging open so far I can see her fillings.
“Especially not Salinger. He’s…” I gesture helplessly toward his office. “You know how he is. He’s told me explicitly that he’d never want to… you know…”
“Do the nasty with you? Let your clam clamp around his all-beef hot dog? Make a butt baby?”
“No! Never.” My face is burning up just from hearing her say the words. “Why are you so enthusiastic? You’re the one who’s always saying what a terrible bully he is.”
“I’m not saying you need to marry him or date him,” Jess argues. “You’ve been really stressed and down lately. Use him! Like a job perk. You’ve earned it after what he’s put you through.”
“I think it’s just the winter weather,” I lie. I need another coffee. This is too much stress. “If Salinger asks, tell him I’m making copies or something.” I check his schedule. “He’s supposed to be in a meeting for the next few hours. Plenty of time to make it to Starbucks and back.”
30
SALINGER
Mandy isn’t at her desk when I return from my meeting.
“Where is she?”
Her friend gives me a critical look. “She had to pop downstairs for a bit. She’s making copies.”
“Copies.”
Apprehension prickles, along with the urge to race outside and drive around until I find her.
