Page 56 of One Big Little Secret

I wasn’t expecting that.

So, maybe Patton doesn’t have to like his secret son—and I get why he doesn’t, just like I understand why Arlo has this weird love-hate thing going on with him—but knowing what I know makes it feel like an uppercut.

“He’s just a kid.” I stare at him, biting my lip.

“Yes, we’ve established that. Have you always let your son insult your bosses?” he asks, his tone clipped. Back to being asshole incarnate, I see. “I’m starting to see why your past ventures never got off the ground.”

I flinch back in my seat.

Rude.

The silence crackles with heat, smothering us, but I can’t think of anything to say.

I’m sure there’s some way to play this off cool.

If there is, it eludes me. I’m too busy restraining myself from leaping up and slugging him in the face.

Then again, so what?

So what if he thinks I’m a serial failure? Anyone else would think the same thing after seeing my résumé. It’s not the end of the world.

It’s just one more low blow that reminds me why he’s awful, and no truce will ever change that.

The irritation on his face fades as he studies me.

“Shit, what are we doing?” His eyes are the same arctic shade as before, but instead of a wall, I sense emotions there. I pick them out like colors in a rainbow.

Regret. Frustration. Anger.

Mostly aimed at himself, I think.

There’s also something else I can’t identify like the blurry line between indigo and violet.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “Salem, I didn’t mean it.”

“But you did,” I mutter quietly.

Maybe I should be so pissed, but there’s no room for anger past the disbelief squeezing my lungs.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“For once, we agree.”

He takes a step closer.

He could touch me now, if he wanted, but thankfully he doesn’t. I’m not sure I could stop myself from throwing the small trash can next to me at his head if he did.

“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you,” he says.

“Make it up to me?” I laugh harshly. “Likehow? Taking me up to a rooftop bar and plying me with booze so I forget you insulted me to my face? That hurt, Patton.” He looks away and I snort, the sound too bitter. “The last time we did that, we cursed ourselves. Just look where we are now, stuck together and ready to strangle each other.”

It’s in his eyes.

He flinches, even if his wall of a body doesn’t quiver a bit.

“Go on, get it out. Tell me how shitty I am. Just know if you were anybody else on my staff—”

“So fire me!” I grip my pen like a knife, almost in disbelief at what I’ve just said. Here comes my next failure, I guess, served up piping hot. “Or if you won’t, just—just let me work so I can get home at a decent hour without owing the babysitter overtime.”

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