Page 41 of Covert

Why bother, when she’d have to repack in a week? Or less, if she had her way. Why prolong the agony?

Dylan had made it more than clear he couldn’t tolerate her presence in his life any longer, and after the way he behaved today, the feeling was entirely mutual.

Ebony had been right—love was for suckers. Though by the goofy expression on her brother Pete’s face when he mentioned her friend at the airport in Sydney, Ebony could be heading for a big fall—if she hadn’t fallen already.

Tears stung Sam’s eyes as she thought about her friend. She really needed a shoulder to cry on at the moment and Ebony would be perfect.

Wiping her eyes with an angry swipe of her hand and cursing her stupidity at shedding tears for a man who wasn’t worth it, she dumped the paperwork she’d been working on, making a neat pile in the middle of his desk, and picked up her phone. A quick call to her bestie would do wonders; if anyone could talk sense into her, Ebony could.

Sam brought up her favourites, tapped Ebony’s number, and waited while the phone rang. Thankfully, Ebony picked up on the fifth ring.

“Eb, it’s me.”

“Hey, Sammy. What’s up? You sound awful.”

“That obvious, huh?”

“What’s he done?”

Ebony had an unerring talent of homing in on a problem. It annoyed Sam at times but right now, she was grateful for it.

So Sam poured out the whole sorry story to her best friend, leaving nothing out.

When Sam’s tirade finished, Ebony said, “Why don’t you tell him the truth?”

“And say what? ‘Hey Dylan, even though I’ve been your employee for the last three months, it’s all been a lie and what I really want is for us to get married and live happily ever after.’ Yeah, right. I’m sure he’d love that.”

“I mean tell him the truth about how you feel. What have you got to lose?”

At that moment, Sam heard a faint click behind her. She cupped a hand over the phone and turned around, the sight of Dylan glowering at her sending her heart plummeting.

“We need to talk,” he said through gritted teeth. “Now.”

If she thought he’d been angry earlier, she’d underestimated him. The terse, clipped tone, along with the folded arms and fierce frown, indicated he’d surpassed anger and had entered the furious stage.

“I’ll call you back later,” Sam said softly into the phone.

“If that’s who I think it is, go for it.”

Another of Ebony’s life mottos, though in this case, Sam knew it was way too late to follow her friend’s advice. She’d already ‘gone for it’ and it had landed her in more trouble than it had been worth.

“Bye.”

As Sam hung up, she wondered how much of her conversation Dylan had overheard. By the deepening frown and the way he stalked across the room toward her, he’d heard plenty.

“Take a seat,” he snapped, pointing to the ergonomic chair she’d occupied almost every day over the last few months. “And let’s talk about youremployment.”

“Don’t make it sound so appealing,” she muttered, before sitting. Though she didn’t take kindly to orders, she knew now wasn’t the time to push back. Dylan looked mad as hell—and she’d been stupid enough to provoke him.

He clenched his fists and took several deep breaths before continuing. “I wanted to offer you a permanent position as my personal assistant. You’ve done a great job, better than I could’ve hoped for, and I thought it’s time to cement our business arrangement.”

Sam didn’t know what to say. She thought he’d overheard her conversation with Ebony and would subject her to an interrogation; instead, she almost sagged with relief as she realised he wanted to discuss her job. The anger was probably a carry-over from this morning—he hadn’t spoken a word on their return trip to Melbourne, which had been fine with her.

As she opened her mouth to respond, he held up a hand.

“Don’t.”

He spat the word and she knew in an instant her relief had been short-lived.

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