“Oh, okay. Either way, I thought you should know that people are interested in your life.”
“What people?”
“I don’t know. Storm fans. Women who find workaholics attractive.”
“Very funny. Thank you for the heads-up. Is that all you came for?”
“No, actually. I also came to talk to Keeley. Did you know she spent the night in our building on Saturday?”
“What?” I choke on nothing, and Paige laughs so loudly that I double-check she closed my office door.
“Okay. Fine. I was worried about her because she messaged me drunk. She passed out in my car without telling me where she was staying, so I let her stay at my place. I slept in the spare room. That’s all it was.”
“What?” Paige’s jaw drops, but she fails to hide the sparkle in her eyes. “Easton told me she’d stayed at her mom’s.”
“Stop lying. You didn’t believe that.”
“You’re right.” She smiles. “I didn’t. But I do believeyourstory. Such a gentleman.”
I’m really fucking not. Just because I didn’t touch her, doesn’t mean I wasn’t thinking about it.
“Thanks, Kiddo. Can you do me a favor?”
“What’s that?”
“Maybe don’t bring it up to Keels?”
“I wasn’t going to.”
I huff out a laugh, but I should have guessed. She just wanted me to spill the details. Fucking gossip magazines.
A thought hits me and I panic. “Were the photos just me?”
“Yep. The photographer must have left by the time you came back out with Keeley.”
“Oh, good.”
Paige’s previously happy expression morphs as she eyes me curiously, her lips parted as she furrows her brow. “Is there more to this friendship? More to you and Keeley?”
“No. I care about her a lot. But we’re just friends.”
Paige nods, and while I’m not technically lying at this point in time, the words taste bitter in my mouth, as though I’ve never been so dishonest in my life.
My stomach swirls with discomfort.
I’m not sure how long that line will remain true, and I’m terrified of what that will change.
After continuing to hide out for most of the day, apart from my two meetings, I pour myself a glass of whiskey the second the clock ticks over to five, and give myself a pep talk.
The longer we leave this, the harder it will be. It’s just a talk.
I’ve had much tougher conversations in the past. I can do this.
Sort of.
Because I’m a chickenshit, I buzz Tabitha and ask her to arrange a meeting with Keeley for seven p.m., knowing she’ll still be here, then dismiss Tabitha for the night.
When seven hits, Keeley waltzes through my door, her lips curled into a radiant grin, and my shoulders fall in relief.
