Page 104 of One Big Little Secret

I don’t know. Another way.Anyway that doesn’t involve shredding what’s left of my dignity.

Why can’t she try one of the social events I’m sure they both attend? The ones I wouldn’t be invited to in a thousand years.

Or, you know, at least not by waiting in my office like a tarantula in its little cave, biding her time until he arrives so she can pounce.

I have work, too, not that I’d expect Kayla to understand the concept.

“You could go shopping while you wait?” I suggest, knowing it’s probably hopeless.

“Don’t you want company? It must be so boring here.” She pulls her phone out and flicks through her notifications. “Do you know I posted three times on Instagram after tagging this place to congratulate my bestie? He didn’t likeanyof them.”

Ouch. If she’s resorted to shout-outs for a complete nobody like me, she must be really desperate.

“He probably doesn’t check his socials much.”

“Yeah, but he follows me,” she whines.

“So? That doesn’t mean he’s glued to Instagram.” I try not to sound jealous.

She blinks at me like the idea of not spending half your life on social media is a foreign concept, right before she looks at her screen to deal with another twenty notifications.

Fine.

I find my headphones so I can drown her out. I’ll just ignore her and work. It’s not like she’s taking up my space with her presence—though her perfume and the click of her nails as she sends another message is a little off-putting.

The minutes run by like molasses.

It’s like time itself wants to amplify how awkward this situation feels. I don’t get much done with her hovering around.

The torture lasts almost an hour.

By then, my eyes are glazed as I reread the same sentence for the fifth time.

Kayla jumps to her feet. She flicks her hair back and walks to the doorway.

I’m instantly filled with dread.

Patton’s terse expression dissolves into annoyance as he sees her standing in front of him. If she had a tail, it would be wagging like crazy.

Worse, he looks just as illegally good as he did yesterday, though he’s swapped the sweater for his usual steel-grey jacket and blue tie.

“Oh my God, hi! I’ve been waiting to meet you,” Kayla says, holding out her hand. “I’m Kayla—Winston Persephone’s daughter?” She pauses, but when his confusion doesn’t lift, she adds, “You know, from the fragrance line?”

“That’s right.” He forces a smile. “Nice to meet you, Kayla. What brings you by?”

She ignores the question.

I watch her lean in, flicking her gaze to his face, then down to his chest as she inhales sharply.

“I can smell our cologne right now. Great choice for a handsome businessman. Isn’t it the best?” she croons, not moving away.

Shoot me now.

Actually, dump my body in the river to rot because I donotwant to be here listening to this. Even if the flash of worry sweeping over his face feels mildly satisfying.

He glares at me like I’m somehow the reason he’s stuck in this flirt trap, but I just shake my head and shrug.

Sorry, dude. Not my monkey and not my circus.

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