Page 63 of The Wrong Promise

“You didn’t know he was the boss.”

I arch my brow for emphasis. “Or if I’ll sleep with him again now that he is the boss. But what pisses me off more, there isn’t a repercussion for him. I’m over the fucking shaming of women.”

“I hear you, girlfriend.” Piper smiles. “Then hold your head high as you have done nothing wrong. Before we go down that rabbit hole, here’s some advice. Put everything aside. Work. The fake relationship. The past. What happened today. How do you feel abouthim? What does your heart tell you?”

I pick up my second coffee mug and sip it slowly, pondering my feelings for Jobe. “Before he turned up at work, I would have wanted a chance for us and see where a relationship takes us. Because even when we bicker, I enjoy it. He challenges me. Years back, when he upset my best friend because he was looking out for his brother, I was ready to fight him for her. But now that he’s betrayed me, not trusted me with this… I feel… insignificant to him. Like my feelings don’t matter. And I don’t know if I want a relationship with a man who treats me like this.

“Right. But even when you hate them, they attract you in some way. You might want to ride this wave. You might save each other.”

I hold up my mug and tilt it toward her to make a point. “First, it’s a freaking tsunami, and I don’t know where the hell it’s carrying me. All I can see is us both drowning and never trusting to love again.”

“Whoa, you said love.”

Shit.

“I meant a relationship. Because it’s lust that has trapped us.”

Piper assesses me for a moment and then checks her phone. “We better get back because your boyfriend will think our work ethic sucks, and we’ll both lose our jobs.”

“Fuck him.” All I can think is that it’s not the worst thing that could happen to me. Maybe I need to update my resume, find another job, and find somewhere else to live after the gala. Because I’m scared of what happens next, scared of Jobe confirming I haven’t meant anything more to him than a stepping stone to a business deal.

We walk into the office.

What is happening?

Everyone is at their desks, focusing on their screens.

“What have we missed?” Piper whispers to George.

He tilts his head to a camera in the corner of the ceiling. “Security cameras will pick up anyone not working. Read your emails on work ethic.” His gaze flicks to mine, and then he looks away without a word.

What does he know?

“We’ll chat at lunch,” Piper whispers to me.

Only we don’t. Lunch comes and goes without a word of the takeover, as it appears my work friends no longer trust me.

At the endof the day, I don’t touch my phone messages until I’m on the Tube. There’s a message from Jobe.

I’m sorry about this morning. I know you’re mad, but my hands were tied. I want to talk about it, only I’m on my way to the airport as something has come up in LA. If they gave me more notice, you could have come back with me. Penny, for once, would be excited for the extra emissions if you were on the jet with me. We’ll talk later. I’d rather be with you tonight than sorting out the fuckery back home.

Bull-fucking-shit. He is the executive director. Were his hands really tied? It is up to him who he tells, and more importantly, he could have trusted me. Let me inside his fucking armor that blocks all emotion.

Tim looked out for me and my career, and now he has lost his job. Another reason why I am upset and have every right to be when he lets the Board dictate how much he trusts me.

I let out a long sigh. It works out for the best since I did not want to face Jobe tonight. We both need space.

And I need a shit ton of time to work through this.

The following day,everyone is distant at work as though I’m a spy. Piper barely speaks in the office, but at lunch, she is back to her chatty self, so it’s obvious the mention of the security camera has spooked her.

By the time I head home, I’m overwhelmed and need a quiet night. As soon as I enter the penthouse, I receive a text message.

Wish I was there with you. What are you having for dinner?

I haven’t replied to his texts as I don’t know what to say without mentioning how he hurt me. Why do I have to be the girl who wears her heart on her sleeve?

I shower, order takeout, then check my cell.

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