Page 3 of Dear Grumpy Boss

I shook my head. “No thank you. Listen, I appreciate you telling me, but I can’t do this at work.” The tears that had begun to form in my eyes evaporated. “That was very solid of you to let me know.”

“Of course.” She took her phone back from me. “Please, let me know if there’s anything I can do.”

She started to turn, and I called her name. She stopped, raising a questioning brow.

“This is a terrible place to work,” I told her. “If you can get out, you should.”

Her eyes went round. “Really? Oh god, I was hoping—”

“No.” I stacked my hands on my desk to keep them from shaking. “Don’t hope. You’ll only be disappointed. It’s a bad, bad place.”

She slumped against the opening of my cube. “Damn. Well, thanks for telling me. Woman to woman and all that.”

I lowered my eyes to my keyboard. “We have to look out for each other. Can you do me a favor and not tell Steve about this? I want to have the opportunity to figure out what I’m going to do before I talk to Patrick.”

She reached out, like she meant to touch me, but stopped herself. “Of course. I hope you’re okay.”

Sucking in a breath, I flicked my gaze to the photo of Patrick and me at a wedding three years ago. He was holding me, nuzzling my neck while I laughed. Back then, I’d thought he was magic. Now, I wondered if he was nothing more than an illusionist.

“I will be.”

Once I found out just how deep this betrayal went.

Lani and Brandon huddled around me at my place. Patrick was on a work trip in Boston and had conveniently left his iPad behind. Brandon had been prepared to hack into it, but it wasn’t locked. He wasn’t even trying to hide this from me.

Brandon took the iPad and began to scroll through the messages. I was too dizzy from heartache and two shots of straight vodka to be in charge of scrolling.

“When I sent him that video, he told me I was his sexy little treasure.” I held my empty glass to my lips, rolling it back and forth. “And when I got home, he couldn’t keep his hands off me.”

Patrick Lincoln and I had been together for four years. We’d met at my first job post-college back in Denver. A whirlwind. Love at first sight. Something I’d never had.

When he was transferred to Chicago, where he’d grown up, there’d been no question I would follow, saying goodbye to my brother and college friends.

Two years in, the spark dimmed. He was busy. I was miserable at work. But I loved him and was determined to bring us back to the early days.

Sparks didn’t have to dim, did they?

I thought not.

Lingerie, positions, spontaneity, toys—I did it all. I’d been anawesomegirlfriend.

A year ago, I went on a girls’ trip to Aruba with my college friends. One of them took a video of me in my bikini on the beach, down on my knees, sultry and sexy for Patrick. He made me feel that way. Always had. After growing up as the fat girl, having a man who appreciated each of my curves gave me confidence. It let me walk around on the beach in Aruba in a bikini, feeling like a damn goddess.

“I found it.” Brandon’s look was grim. “The first time he shared the video.”

I swallowed hard. “When?”

“A year.”

Oh god.

I took the iPad, reading the date first. He’d shared it while I was in Aruba.

Tyler:I see why you call her JT.

Chance:She truly lives up to her name.

Steve-o:Does she know you sent that?

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