Page 63 of Single Mom's Secret Diary
I’m sure I derailed her monopoly on the hot men here. I mean, fuck, I’m sleeping with three of them regularly. Daily. Right under her nose.
It sucks that it means she has to hate me in her own way. I don’t want to hate her, but I’m reactionary. I can’t stay pleasant when someone is being awful to me. It’s simply not in my DNA.
Just ask my dad.
I smooth down my blouse and wait for her attack. The best offense I can have is to appear unruffled.
“You aren’t supposed to be in here alone.” Her tone is not the mild version she uses when someone is nearby to hear. It drips with disdain and suspicion.
“I’m not. You’re here with me.” I tilt my head and watch her innocently. I know I haven’t stolen any secrets, but if someone said I was, it means that someone has thought about it. I don’t trust Laurel.
The feeling is mutual. She narrows her eyes at me and takes a step forward, blocking the doorway.
“You might have the bosses wrapped around your little finger, but I know better. You’re a snake, waiting for your chance to poison us all.”
Her word choice is convenient. Telling. “Am I? And what do you know about poisoning? I’m the one who went to the hospital from it, after all. And I certainly didn’t poison myself.”
Her scowl deepens. The frustration of not being able to intimidate me is obvious in the reddening of her cheeks. “I wouldn’t put it past you.”
I shake my head. There really is no chance that she’ll change her mind about me, no matter what I say or do to prove her opinion of me is wrong.
So, there’s no point in being nice. Or polite. “Think as you will, but I’ve met women like you before. Green is not your color. And it’s not my fault Ryder doesn’t want you anymore. Or Wyatt, for that matter.”
The red in Laurel’s cheeks travels down her neck and to her chest. I meet her blue gaze and don’t waver as we stare at each other.
When it’s obvious she doesn’t have a retort on hand, I gather up the tray Wyatt presented our new test on, the notes I took down, and his notes. Piling them together, I put them in his mini-fridge and lock it with the padlock. Something only he has the key to.
I refuse to leave it out for someone else to find.
Laurel’s eye is twitching as I walk toward her. She doesn’t move until I’m close, nearly running into her as I grab Wyatt’s office door to close behind me.
It locks automatically as it latches, but I check it to confirm.
Then, I leave Laurel to her fuming and plotting and return to my own office to do my job.
30
Ryder
Iput down the phone none too gently and rub my face. It has been a long morning of back-to-back phone calls. And I need a break.
Standing and stretching, I don’t have to question where my feet are taking me. I know exactly where I want to be. With Avery.
Marching down to her office has my heart beating fast already. It never fails. Avery excites me. Everything about her. Just being in her presence is thrilling, exciting, and relaxing in varying degrees.
But when I turn the corner and see her door closed, my shoulders fall.
Stepping closer shows a slew of papers covering her door. Tension reblooms. My shoulders and back tense. I’m ready for a fight because I know whatever I find there is going to ruin my happy plans for lunch.
Taking a deep breath, I breach that point of no return. The words scrawled across Avery’s door send pure, hot rage through me.
Office whore. Slut. Cum dumpster. Slam pig. After hours ho.
There are more, but my vision goes red. I’m moving before I can think about it, tearing down every scrap of paper. I barely have the wherewithal not to tear it all to shreds.
What happens with them is more important than that.
I do my best to rein in the manic energy coursing through me as I burst into Ezra’s office, who looks up, ready to tell me off until he gets a good look at me and what’s in my hand.
