Page 17 of Daring You

I angle my head, all innocence. “Then I definitely should’ve been there. We’re the top two earners this year. I’ve billed the most hours.”

Mike doesn’t like the insinuation, but it’s true. I’m number one. He’s number two. Bastards can lie, but numbers don’t.

“Like I said, check your phone. I was surprised you left early.”

“Yet you didn’t try to stop me.” I push off the counter and cover any trembling by cocking a hip.

“We have dinner reservations in an hour,” he says. “We can talk about it there.”

I know Mike inside and out, and can spot his bait-and-switch a mile away. But I’m off my game this evening and unwilling to stay strong, when maybe this is the time I need it most. “What was it about, Mike?”

Mike pretends hesitation, like it pains him to admit anything to me. “They’re looking at me, Astor.”

I tip my chin up, covering my gulp. “Care to elaborate?”

Goddamned lawyers. I love a good, wicked argument. I loathe hedging and leaving enough unsaid, unless I’m the one doing it.

The muscles in his jaw move. Finally, I’m sensing some nervousness.

“For managing associate. They’re gonna put me on the track to making partner.”

This time, I choke on my swallow. “Partner? You?”

His nerves shrivel into disdain. “Yeah, Astor. Me. Why are you acting so surprised? You know the hours I’ve been pulling, the clients I’ve brought in, that huge case I just settled—”

“We settled, Mike. We.”

“Well, what do you want me to do?” He throws his hands up. “I’m not in their heads, their private meetings. I don’t control their decisions.”

“No,” I scoff. “You simply orchestrate them.”

Stalking past him, Mike has to shimmy out of the way before I clip his shoulder. “Astor, don’t be like this. I thought you’d be happy for me.”

I whirl in the hallway. “Happy? Happy? First I find cheap women’s underwear that’s not mine in our toilet, and now you’re telling me you’ve been offered the partner track in a meeting I was conveniently left out of?”

Mike actually has the gall to look surprised. “Wait—slow down, Astor. What underwear? What are you talking about?”

I let out a hollow laugh. “You know what’s stupid? I’ve been willing to overlook it for a while. I figured it was your way of getting it out of your system before we’re married.” I flick out a hand. “That ridiculous bachelor affliction that gives you a ton of testosterone and not enough good sense. I figured while you jerked all your boyhood dreams out on other girls’ sheets, you’d at least use discretion. You wouldn’t bring these women into our home and among my things, rubbing it in my face.”

I’m seething. My lips are peeled back and I might as well be a bull, shoulders heaving before a charge, but I can’t contain it. Mike’s unleashed something in me, a fury I thought I long ago buried.

Mike doesn’t bother to deny it. He wouldn’t, knowing the evidence he’s up against. The furious fiancée he now has to soothe. “Astor, I’m sorry. It was one time, and it was a mistake.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I spit. “It’s almost as bad as you saying nothing happened.”

“She…it wasn’t…while you were in the hospital with Locke and Lily, you were gone for so long that I—”

“Don’t you dare go into the specifics. Just pack your shit and get out.”

Mike balks. “What?”

“You heard me. Explanations are for those willing to hear it. Pack your stuff. And leave.”

“No, you do not get to stand here and kick me out of our apartment that we both pay for equally.”

“I sure as hell can. You lost equal status when you brought other women home and into our bed.”

He shakes his head. “I never brought them to our bedroom. It was—”

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