My phone pings with another text. Maybe an SOS from Rhys to get Sacker to leave?
I glance at the screen, and my mood turns as sour as expired milk.
–Jeffrey: Hey, babe, are you still upset? Look, let’s just let it go, okay? You got to insult me, and your boss got to be rude and verbally abusive—uncalled for, but I’m willing to let bygones be bygones. No reason to ruin a long-term relationship over something so trivial. Besides, Samantha and I just kissed. We didn’t really do anything.
Is he serious? Shoving his tongue down her throat isn’t a reason to “ruin” our relationship? Did he think aboutour relationshipbefore flying to Tokyo with her? Or kissing her in public?
Besides, have I given him the impression I’m stupid? He and Samantha just “kissed”? In what sense—like kissing-cousins kind of way?
I start typing a cutting response, but another text hits my phone.
–Jeffrey: By the way, your father and I kind of bonded. I understand the pain from your childhood, but that’s just more reason to keep what we have. Two years, babe! It’s a record for me.
He must’ve fucked his way to his diploma. No one can be this much of an idiot.
–Me: Yes, I’m sure you have a lot in common. I’m just waiting for the day both your dicks shrivel with chlamydia.
–Jeffrey: Don’t be mean, babe. I’m trying to be understanding.
–Me: Hold your breath. My understanding broke the second I saw you with her.
–Jeffrey: You’re going to regret this. Most men aren’t like me. And btw I know you’re sleeping with your boss.
My jaw slackens.How did he find out I slept with Rhys in Tokyo?
–Jeffrey: But do I complain? Of course not. I look the other way because being with you matters more.
Oh jeez. I read the text twice, just to be sure. Jeffrey assumes I was sleeping with Rhys all this time…? Or maybe he’s making wild accusations to put me on the defensive, hoping something sticks.
–Jeffrey: People like Rhys Kingswood don’t marry and build a life with girls like you. They want women with ambition and qualifications. You’re great, don’t get me wrong, but don’t let yourself be a secret shame he bangs behind closed doors. You’re just a convenience for him when he’s too busy to look for someone more on his level.
I glare at the obnoxious words, designed to chip away at my self-esteem. But the bastard inadvertently managed to hit a sensitive spot. Didn’t I regard Rhys as a man you bang once, as long as you’re certain never to cross paths with him again because he isn’t the kind of man who can actually do a meaningful relationship? Everything in his life has been short and casual—at least, that’s his public persona. The reality is probably much worse, based on how worried Sorcha seemed.
I don’t think I’m particularly lacking, but at the same time, Rhys has never been seen with a non-celeb on his arm. If he’s dating someone ordinary, he must be doing it more covertly than a CIA agent operating in Russia.
Gritting my teeth, I shake off the anxiety. I amnotgoing to let Jeffrey affect me.
–Me: Banging in public is frowned upon. But then, maybe you didn’t know that, since you think kissing women other than your girlfriend in public is totally normal. Don’t call me babe, and don’t ever contact me again. Your very existence grosses me out, like a week-old sewer rat carcass infested with cockroaches.
That done, I get up to rescue Rhys. It’s been seven minutes since Sacker entered the office. If I don’t intervene, he’ll stay for seven hours.
I knock, then stick my head in. “Rhys, your Zoom call?”
“Right.” My boss turns to Sacker. “Gotta get on that now. Thanks for stopping by, though. Fascinating stuff.”
“Thanks.” Sacker flushes. Although Rhys is the one wearing glasses, Sacker looks more geeky and awkward.
As he walks past me, I start to return to my desk.
“Max?” Rhys says, “Come in for a sec.”
My shoulders tense.This is it.
I walk inside and take the seat Sorcha occupied in the morning, my hands folded in my lap. There’s an urge to tap my foot, but I resist, keeping my knees together. Rhys adjusts his glasses, then tugs at his tie—a sign he’s about to embark on a difficult conversation.
Anxiety creeps in.Just how much trouble am I in?Time to put out feelers with a couple of headhunters—
He starts to get up. I remember how he caged me in the morning—and how hard it was for me to think straight over thepounding of my heart. Instinct says I need to be at a hundred and ten percent right now. “Stay there.”
