Page 59 of Inarticulate

“Paper, too?”

She needed to do something, anything, to get this humiliation off her back. Maybe other women would cry and blubber about the betrayal, but she preferred retribution. Unfortunately, she’d never had to achieve it while restrained by professional guidelines.

If this was on a completely personal level, she’d like to think she could walk right up to Keenan, smile, and knee him in his perfectly proportioned cock. She hadn’t even envisaged that when Spencer had cheated on her.

“Here you go.” The woman slid a sheet of paper along the countertop.

Great. Now what was she supposed to do?

Savannah stared down at the page, wishing she had the right mix of wit and spite to leave a perfect message for Keenan.

Nothing came.

She was blank and unable to leave, not without making her own strike. She needed him to be aware she wasn’t hurt. That her heart wasn’t a pulverized mess in her chest. It was all about perception. If nobody knew she was devastated, then it wasn’t real, was it?

The elevator doors dinged from behind her and she bristled. Call it a sixth sense, or the uncanny remembrance of the sound of his footsteps, but she knew he was approaching her. And the tap, tap, tap of heels belonged to Penny.

“On second thought, I don’t need these.” She slid the pen and paper toward the receptionist and turned to face her enemies with a beaming smile. “Morning.”

“Morning.” Penny beamed back.

Savannah wished she lacked the self-preservation stopping her from slapping the look off her cousin’s face. “You know what? Your boss is right. You do look like husband and wife. I guess I never pictured it because I was unaware that the two of you worked side-by-side all day long.”

“You didn’t know?” Penny snickered. “That’s hilarious.”

It probably was. Unfortunately, Savannah didn’t think she’d see the humorous side for quite some time.

“I had no clue,” she admitted. “Apparently, being mute gives you the right to be a lying asshole.” She chanced a glance at Keenan. Until then, she hadn’t been able to meet his gaze and had no clue if he’d walked toward her with a sense of regret or satisfaction. All she knew now was that her insult had inflicted injury because he was glaring at her, his nostrils flaring at her low blow. “Have a lovely day.”

She sauntered between them, determined to reach the elevator with her happy-go-lucky mask still in place. Only it faltered when Keenan’s grip encased her wrist. He held her, firm yet tender as he peered down at her.

His eyes spoke to her. Those gray depths portraying a myriad of emotions from remorse to annoyance. But she’d been wrong before. For all she knew, he could be lapping up her suffering, devouring it like a heartbroken woman glutted on ice cream.

“Fuck you,” she whispered through a dazzling smile.

His jaw tensed and the calculation in his features turned feral.

She yanked her arm away and moved gracefully to the elevator door, pressing the button with composure and poise. They were all watching her, she could feel it—Keenan, Penny, the receptionist, too.

Lunch, dinner, and Christmas seemed to pass before the doors opened and she moved into the sanctuary of the small space. Keenan approached and she shook her head in a non-verbal fuck off. He didn’t listen.

He stepped into the elevator and his arrogance stole all her oxygen.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three before I cause a scene that neither of us wants.”

His chin lifted as he remained still. Stubborn. She didn’t want to lose her shit. She wasn’t even sure what it would involve, but she continued the threat nonetheless.

“One.” She swallowed over the anguish rising in her throat. “Two.” Her chest restricted, tight and unyielding. “Th—”

He huffed out a breath and stepped back into the reception area. The doors began to close as she stared down the conviction in his eyes, spitting in the face of it with a glare more potent than arsenic.

The descent to the ground floor was a blur marked by buzz after buzz of her cell. She wanted to ignore it. Her brain demanded it. Yet everything inside her forced her to retrieve the device and read his excuses as she entered the lobby.

Keenan: Give me more time to handle it.

Then—Savannah, I’ll speak to Penelope again. Please, let me take care of it.

Followed by—Where are you? And. I need to see you.

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