Page 107 of Dirty Damage

“I’m Mara Bettis. And… I was. Until she went and got engaged to you without saying a word to me.” Her face darkens like a thundercloud. “Now, I’m questioning everything.”

“Sounds like something you can take up with Sutton.”

Her scowl deepens. “But I want to talk to you. In private.”

I gesture to the empty gym around us. “I couldn’t find a place more private than this.”

She swallows hard. “It smells like sweat in here. I’d rather go outside.”

Translation: she doesn’t want to be alone with me. Smart girl.

My scars tend to have that effect on people, especially in close quarters. That, combined with what I’m sure she’s heard about my temperament, would make anyone think twice about a private conversation.

“Very well,” I say, grabbing my water bottle. “Let’s go.”

She follows me through the back entrance of the gym and across the street. But the second we’re off Pavlov Industries property, Mara takes the lead, steering us toward a bench between a water fountain and a patch of grass dotted with lounging readers.

It’s public, visible, full of witnesses.

Whatever Mara wants to talk about, she’s either very cautious or very scared.

I drop myself as far from her as possible on the bench. “You have my attention, Ms. Bettis. What can I do for you?”

“I’m worried about Sutton,” she says bluntly.

“What exactly are you worried about?”

She throws me a sideways glance. “Well, for one, she went into a supposed ‘business meeting’ with you and came out engaged instead.”

I shrug, letting a hint of danger creep into my smile. “I’d call that a successful business meeting.”

“But for whom?” She shakes her head, eyes cast off to the middle distance. “Sutton isn’t impulsive. Not anymore. She’s leery of powerful men like you.”

“You flatter me.”

She wrings her hands together, but her voice stays steady. “You wouldn’t feel that way if you knew her history the way I do. She’d all but sworn off men before you came along.”

“Guess she was just waiting for Mr. Right.”

“Are you blackmailing her or something?” She turns to face me, eyes narrowed on my face, searching.

“You know I’m your boss, don’t you?”

She crosses her arms, chin lifting. “I’m scarily aware of that, yes. But I care too much about my friend to stay quiet. Even if you can fire me and kick my ass to the curb.”

I level her with a glare, expecting her to flinch back like so many others before her. Instead, she meets me head on, refusing to blink.

“I like you, Mara,” I say finally. “You’re a good friend.”

There’s a beat of hesitation before: “Does that mean I get to keep my job?”

“Yes.”

“Nothing I say can change your mind?”

I wave her on with a sigh. “Say what you came to say.”

“Are you blackmailing my friend?” she asks again.

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