Page 51 of Fauxmance in the City

I’ll give you everything you want.

That kiss unlocked a secret door inside me, and I’d stepped into a future filled with sparkling possibilities.

I want to be whole with you.

I dressed in an outfit I knew Sam loved—a red pencil skirt and tight white tank top—and I blew out my hair. I was tired and a little dehydrated, but the adrenaline from the unexpected turn of events last night had pumped fresh energy into my veins. I knew the expression walking on clouds, but I hadn’t realized what it meant until now. Everything was lifted. My heart was light, my steps were nimble; I floated into work.

“Good morning,” I trilled at Patrick’s door.

“You look radiant this morning, Brutus,” Patrick said.

I grimaced. He’d taken to calling me that since I’d recently confessed my little white lies. He was joking, but I cringed every time.

“I hate that nickname.” I frowned. “I know I’m a horrible person who betrayed your trust, but I also know you love me. And you’re benefitting from it too.”

“Because you trapped me.” But he smiled.

“Have you talked to Sam this morning?” I casually tossed out.

Patrick snorted. “I saw something that looked like Sam. He smelled like a bar floor. I told him to take a shower in the company gym.”

“I ran into him at a bar last night,” I said. “Did he mention?”

Patrick typed an email on his computer and then looked up. “He told me Pedro and he went out and had one too many shots and he wished he could lay on his couch and watch Miracle all morning.”

I bit my lip, but guys aren’t like girls. They’re not as prone to spill their guts to each other, but I was starting to fear that Sam didn’t remember what happened. He was drunk—it’s why I put a pin in our conversation last night—but was he so drunk he didn’t recall any of it?

I took the elevator to Sam’s floor. My stride was purposeful, but as his office came into view, I slowed to a crawl. My heart thwacked inside my chest so hard my steps were unsteady. This moment could change everything.

The memory of the kiss sprinkled down my spine. We could be great. We could be perfect. He knew my secrets. I didn’t have to lie. He respected my dedication to my work. And if the kiss told me anything, he knew exactly how to take care of a woman. And it had been a long time since a man had taken care of me.

The door to his office was ajar, and there was a soft rustling, followed by a low moan. I froze, dread bucketing over me. Inching forward, careful not to make a sound, I peeked through the opening.

A woman with long black hair sat atop Sam’s desk, her legs wrapped around his waist. Sam’s fingers were in her hair, their mouths joined in a deep kiss.

Francine.

Invisible fists clenched my organs, wringing them out. The carpet under my feet blurred, and I stumbled backward, running into something hard.

“Catie, why are you lurking out here?” Patrick held my elbow and I straightened.

“Sam’s got a girl in there.” My voice cracked. I wanted to run away and vomit and forget I ever knew Samuel Harding. All that stupid hope shattered inside me, cutting me deep. I was a fool. An idiot.

Footsteps were coming toward us on the other side of Sam’s door. I pushed Patrick’s shoulders and shoved us into the conference room across the hall.

“Catie.” Patrick squirmed out of my hold. “What are you—”

“Shh!” I hissed.

I waited until Francine had gone, then released Patrick and stepped into the hallway. Sam was in his doorway, and his eyes widened when he spotted me.

Shit.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, surprised, a hint of sadness in his eyes.

“Uh…I had something urgent to tell Patrick. And he was on his way here. To talk to you,” I rambled.

Patrick rolled his eyes and then walked into Sam’s office, leaving us in the doorway.

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