Page 122 of The Charm of You

I cover my mouth with my hand as the message continues. “If I didn’t hate her for punishing you, I’d actually feel bad for the bitch, but I guess there’s hope for her now that she’s bringing you back. Call me!” Her squeal makes me cringe, and I pull the phone away from my ear.

I blow a stray hair from my forehead and turn toward the mirror, clinging to the edge of the counter as my world is rocked once again.

It all makes sense.

Melissa fired me without warning, spewing bullshit about how our clients complained about me. That I didn’t have the edge and determination needed to be successful at her agency.

She even made me doubt my freaking fashion sense, as her parting words to me on the morning she fired me were that my outfits are cartoonish.

And it was all because her asshole husband was making eyes at me? I’ve only ever met the guy a handful of times. We exchanged nothing beyond pleasantries, and the fact that she fired me over some infatuation is absurd.

What the hell?

I check Melissa’s text next, and it consists of only two words.

SHE BEAST

Call me.

If I do as she says, she’s going to offer me my job back in the city.

My mouth dries as I stare at my reflection. The designer dress I bought at Saks shimmers under the dim bathroom lighting. The silky fabric is flawless, and it complements my figure very well. If the way Austin looked at me earlier was any indication, this dress was made for me.

But what I love the most about my outfit tonight is the twenty-five-dollar earrings I bought from Daphne’s.

My chest heaves—I can’t suck in air fast enough.

Am I having a heart attack? I raise my left arm over my head and back down again, registering zero pain there.

But my heart squeezes like it’s clenched inside an angry fist.

I close my eyes and focus on steadying my breathing, inhaling through my nose and slowly exhaling through my mouth.

What am I going to do?

The loaded question replays in my head on a dizzying loop, and it undoes the work I’m accomplishing with my breathing exercises.

Suddenly, the only person I want to see and talk to is Austin. No one else provides the level of solace I find with him.

A knock on the door sounds, and I jump.

I force a swallow and manage to call out, “Just… a second.”

I wring my hands out, tuck my hair behind both ears, and square my shoulders.

With a single jerk of the doorknob, I exit the bathroom and flash a smile toward the woman waiting. She doesn’t seem familiar, so I’m guessing she’s one of the significant others. I’m about to introduce myself when I hear hushed voices coming from the staircase.

I poke my head around the corner to find Addie, but she’s not alone.

Mouth agape, I hunch back and away from sight as Owen stalks up the stairs after her.

He doesn’t seem to be chasing her. She’s no longer scolding him. And the staircase is blocked off by a bunch of caution tape.

We’re not allowed up there, and Addie Lockhart would never break such a rule.

What could she and Owen be doing up there?

I wait for a cry of pain—that’s the only explanation, right? She’s taken him up there, away from any witnesses, to finally end him.

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