Page 92 of The Relationship Clause

I peek around the desk and feel the blood drain from my cheeks.

Owen’s mom AND dad are here. Together. Walking toward me. And if looks could kill, I’d be so deep in the grave, the earth’s core could melt the skin off my face.

My legs twitch with the need to run, but the rest of my body is frozen in place. I’m a deer caught in headlights, and this truck is coming to crush my bones, no stopping it. I don’t have to guess why they’re here looking at me like that. If they’re together, it can only mean one thing: they found out. Somehow, they found out. And now it’s all coming out, and Owen isn’t even here.

“So it’s true,” Fred says, stopping in front of me. “You are his secretary.”

“You’re dating my son?” Ms. Burton demands.

Forgetting the paper clips, I stand and wipe my now-sweaty hands on my pants. The remaining employees in the office are staring. I don’t blame them. This has all the makings of a spectacular train wreck. How could they not watch?

“Fred,” I say, “let me exp—”

“You don’t get to call me Fred. It’s Mr. Ferguson to you”

My heart rate climbs, pounding in my chest. This can’t be happening. I fell asleep at my desk, and I’ll wake up any minute from this nightmare.

“Where is he?” Ms. Burton demands. “Where is Owen?”

“He’s not here. Work emergency,” I manage to choke out.

“That’s just as well,” Ms. Burton says. “You’re fired.”

“You can’t fire me.” The words fall out of my mouth before I can think about them. They’re definitely a mistake.

Ms. Burton steps dangerously close to me. I have visions of her headbutting me. Is that how she wins all of her corporate arguments? Head butting anyone who dares oppose her?

“I can do anything I want. I’m Cynthia Burton. You’re nothing but a lying, scheming nobody. How you weaseled your way into Owen’s life is beyond me.”

I take a deep breath, clutching my fists at my sides. “We met at my old job where I was a barista. I never lied to him.”

“There you go, proving my point. You’re nothing but a coffee girl. I bet when I have my PI look you up, he’ll tell me everything I already know. That you’re poor. In debt. A little leech who decided to latch on to my son as soon as she saw how successful he was. Well, I’ll tell you what, missy, you’ve got another thing coming. You are forbidden from working with or seeing my son ever again.”

Her words are a sucker punch to the gut. I can’t say anything, because she’s right. When she goes digging around for dirt on me, she’ll see my hospital debt and the work Owen’s been helping me put in on my house, and it won’t matter what I say after that. Her suspicions will be confirmed. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the leech she thinks me to be. My fate is sealed.

Adrenaline tears through me. I’m shaking. My breath comes out in quick gasps, too quick to be healthy, and I’m lightheaded. Confrontation has never been my thing, but here I am in my second heated argument in two days.

And maybe I could handle them on a good day when I’m at one hundred percent, but today is not a good day. Not after everything that happened with my own father. Not after all my insecurities concerning Owen. I’m functioning on maybe twenty-three percent, which is not enough to deal with Owen’s parents, even for a million dollars.

I can’t take it anymore. I grab my bag. Thank goodness my legs work. I sidestep Owen’s parents, who both gape at me as if wondering how I could possibly dare. I run-walk to the elevator, but they don’t let up. They follow me inside, berating me every step of the way.

“Where are you going? Running away? Stop and look at us when we’re talking to you, you little viper.”

“Viper is too kind a word for what she is,” Ms. Burton spits. “You lied to us. Both of us. The way you spoke to me, the way you kept me from my son all these weeks, forcing me to make appointments and not letting me drop in on my own son; you have no idea the kind of misery you’ve brought upon yourself. By the time my lawyers are done with you, girl, you’re going to wish you never pulled the wool over my eyes.”

My toe taps on the floor. Stay calm. Deep breaths. Owen wouldn’t appreciate me slapping his parents. Probably.

“Not just your eyes, all of ours.” Fred’s face is splotchy, his gaze cutting into me with a painful prick. “Owen’s too. What kind of lies have you told him, huh? What did you tell him to make him fall under your spell?”

“I haven’t lied to Owen.” Why does my voice have to be so shaky? Why is this elevator so slow?

Fred throws up his hands. “Bah! How can we believe anything you say?”

When we get to my floor, I fumble with my keys.

“She even got him to let her live across the hall from him,” Fred says. “I didn’t think anything of it before, but now I see what you’ve done.”

“She was working her way further into his life. Further into his money.” Ms. Burton sneers.

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