Page 19 of One Big Little Secret

I don’t bother offering to show her out when she knows the way. And if she doesn’t, she’ll figure it out.

I need to clear my fucking head and figure out if there’s a way to salvage this chaos without mauling my pride—or hers.

Because it’s vastly bigger than me and the girl whose soul I rocked years ago.

I need to find out what this means for our company’s crown jewel going forward.

The Cardinal is too big to fail, and I’ll be damned if I let a clash of personalities bring it down.

3

ROLL THE DICE (SALEM)

My one-night stand is my boss.

The biggest life-scorching mistake I’ve ever made is my boss.

The father of my child is myboss.

Inwardly, I’m screaming, and I can’t show it.

Because the handsome stranger who turned my life upside down without ever knowing it is my flipping cockamamie boss, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

This is the sort of Twilight Zone coincidence that’s only supposed to happen in movies andstay there.

But this is real life and I’m hilariously screwed. I’m too paralyzed to even laugh.

I linger on the rooftop after he leaves, still holding the dirty towel in my hands like it’s the only thing tethering me to reality.

It’s definitely ruined, just like he said.

Just like this shiny new job after a morning that’s been one long cataclysm after the next. Except now they all pale in comparison to finding out Grumpybutt is my unknown baby daddy.

“Mommy? Is everything okay?” Arlo asks, his eyes wide.

It’s so not okay.

I’m pretty sure this day is the textbook definition of anti-okay.

He stares at me with those big blue eyes, just like Patton Rory’s. Hopefully, that’s something he didn’t notice.

But I need to sit down before I throw up.

Wouldn’t that be the rancid cherry on top of my crap-luck sundae? Arlo spills hot chocolate all over Patton Rory’s suit, and I hurl all over his precious leather chairs.

“Everything’s fine, baby,” I whisper, bending to soak up more cocoa on the floor.

“Mr. Grumpybutt was mad.”

Yes, hewasmad.

And oh, does the Grumpybutt nickname fit him too well. Odd because that’s not the man I remember.

Even through the casino haze of laughter and cocktails, I remember having fun. He was relaxed, kind, and actually decent to be around for a random evening of reckless gambling and sex with life-altering consequences.

But we were both younger and less burdened then.

Maybe grinding away at business for years ruins a person’s sense of humor. I know it’s all but obliterated mine.

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