Page 60 of Tickled Pink

“Thad—“

“What is she? Your work wife?”

“My work wi—” Max frowns. “Thad, what the hell are you on about?”

“You know, I thought Phoebe was just paranoid, but now I see. There is someone else, isn’t there?”

“What?” Max opens his mouth, but quickly closes it. “No.”

“Don’t play dumb, Max. It’s all over your face.”

“I…” He grabs my arm. “Come on.”

I don’t bother fighting him as he firmly guides me toward his office. A few curious people stop and stare, but they’re easily sated by Max’s charming smile. Not surprising. He’s super likable, but then again, maybe that’s a problem.

We enter his private office, and Max closes the door behind us.

“Okay,” he says once we’re alone. “What’s going on?”

“You’re cheating, that’s what,” I say, too pissed to mince my words.

Max takes offense, his eyes twitching with hurt. “No, I’m not. I would never do that.”

“What’s going on with you and Karla then?”

“There is no me and Karla.”

“Why are you passing notes back and forth like horny tenth graders?”

Max scoffs and flips open his folder. “This note?” he asks, retrieving a page and offering it to me.

I snatch it out of his hand to read it myself. It’s a typed up memo with two handwritten jots on the margin, one I immediately recognize as Max’s handwriting.

Carter moved to 23rd.

I bite my cheek, feeling foolish. “Who’s Carter?” I ask.

Max takes the paper back. “Morgan Carter. Our client.”

“The rockstar?”

“Yes.”

“Dude. Nice catch.”

Max glares at me, annoyed. “Karla and I are partnering on a dispute with his record label. We had a meeting scheduled with him last week, but had to reschedule it because she went to the hospital. To have an ultrasound. Of her baby. That’s she having. With her husband.”

“Okay, fine,” I say.

“Due in July.”

“I get it! There’s no you and Karla.” I perch my hands on my hips. “I’m sorry.”

Max drops the folder on his desk. “What’s this about Phoebe?” he asks. “What’s wrong?”

I take a breath. “The other night, she asked me if I’d noticed anything off with you lately,” I say. “She said you’ve been distant. Distracted. You didn’t come to bed with us. You’re obsessed with your work, so naturally she thought that maybe there was something else going on. I told her no, you’re just busy with this big case. You wouldn’t stray. That’s not you.” I pause, expecting him to say something, but he stays quiet. “I thought nothing of it until this morning, when you bolted the second she left like it was just a normal day. Thought maybe you really had something going on with someone at the office, so I came to see for myself.”

Max shakes his head.

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