Page 55 of Grump and Grumpier

Jansen’s frown deepens. “She knows.”

“How? Do you tell her?”

The men glance at each other, then Derek looks toward the window as Jansen nudges the corner of the laptop to straighten it. Their nonanswer is an answer itself.

“You probably don’t realize how you come off to people, and I know you’re always very busy, but it really doesn’t take any time at all to say please and thank you, and let people know you value them.”

“We could do better at that,” Derek says, his tone softening, and I give him a smile.

CHAPTER 42

DEREK

The one upside to this otherwise infuriating situation is that Ana’s been coming around to our offices more frequently to check on us. I’m about to ask her to come over tonight when Jansen interrupts.

“Incoming.”

“He finally responded?”

We told the anonymous fucker that their allegations were complete bullshit in our last response, and I’ve been curious about how they’re going to respond.

As I round the desk to see the message, Ana starts to follow.

“Can I see it too?” she asks.

Jansen angles his laptop so that all three of us can read it at the same time.

“What. The. Fuck!” Jansen voices his anger amoment before I get to the paragraph he apparently just read.

“That motherfucker!”

Ana’s face has already gone white, and I’m sorely tempted to pick up the laptop and hurl it at the window.

“Someone else knows?” The distress in her voice twists something tight deep inside me, and I want to pick her up and carry her far, far away from here.

Jansen pushes up from his chair, stalks across the room and back.

I wrap an arm around Ana and ease her back from the desk. “I’m sorry you had to see that. They’ve never said anything like that before. They’ve never mentioned you.”

She’s not identified by name, but it’s clear that it’s her they’re talking about when they accuse Jansen and I of engaging in illicit, twisted behavior with an employee. My vision is red from reading this lowlife describe her as a slut for being with both of us.

“I’m a big girl. I can handle the names. I’m just sick about them threatening to expose us to hurt the company.”

“This is taking it way too far,” Jansen says. “Ana shouldn’t be involved. This motherfucker’s going to pay?—”

“Have you told anyone about us?” I ask her.

Ana shakes her head, then says, “Only myroommate—but she’d never do this, and of course, she’d never write anything like that about me. I’d bet my life on it.” Then she goes still, and her voice lowers to a harsh whisper. “Do you think this means it’s Charles?”

It takes a long moment for me to wrap my head around the idea. “I can’t believe Charles would blackmail us. After all these years.”

Jansen’s looking out the window as if there’s an answer out there.

“Who else has seen us together?” I wrack my brain. “There was the chef at my place the other night, but he was new, from a service. There’s no one, unless someone else in this office or building saw us.”

Ana looks like she’s on the verge of being ill, and I make a silent vow that whoever this person is, they’re going to regret this.

“We’ve always been behind closed doors. Charles is the one person who somehow knows,” Ana says.

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