Page 24 of Save Me the Trouble
Diane’s expression darkened, her mind letting go of why Killian favored me and latched onto the knowledge that Aleta was spreading lies in spite of an NDA.
“I see. Well, I hope these questions haven’t jeopardized this profile.” Her lip twitched and she added, “Now that you’re fully aware why we need to do better for Mr. Crown.”
“Of course.” I managed to keep my voice steady even though my heart felt like it was in freefall.
She scrutinized me another moment. “That will be all, Grace.”
I nodded and stood abruptly, guilt like lead weight making my limbs move disjointedly as I closed the door to her office behind me.
Killian had every right to have me fired, but he hadn’t. Instead, he’d shown me a kindness I didn’t deserve.And a kiss like I’d never felt before…mymind raced with how to make things right. I owed him an apology. Several apologies. And some extensive groveling. But even that didn’t seem like enough.
I moved like a zombie back to my desk, not even able to care about Molly’s smirk or correcting her assumption that I’d just been put on notice.
I hadn’t. But I felt worse than if I had.
Aleta came on to him.
My computer screen pulsed in front of me.
“Grace?”
I blinked and snapped my head up. Darcy stood at my desk, her backpack over her shoulder, and a stack of mail clutched to her chest.
“Hey,” I greeted her; I hadn’t seen her this morning because she was coming straight from her sister’s place to work. “How’s Lilly?”
“She’s Lilly. Over the top. Dramatic. Worrywart.” Her eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong with you? Why is Molly looking at us like she just won the lottery?”
“She thinks Diane fired me.”
Darcy snorted. “What an idiot.”
“Yeah.”
She stepped into my little cubicle, blocking everyone else’s view of me, and then set her stack of junk mail down on my desk. One of her responsibilities was to sort through magazines and tabloids and look for mentions of our client or scout for potential new clients we could contact.
“What’s wrong? What’s going on? Is it Crown? Because I swear?—”
“No,” I blurted out, the pain in my chest sharpening again. I couldn’t tell her the truth, but I had to tell her something. “I mean…Darcy.” I lowered my voice. “Mr. Crown isn’t…who Aleta made him out to be.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh no, Grace. You can’t. It’s a trap. Don’t fall for him like she?—”
I grabbed her wrist and met her stare. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you—what Diane just told me. Mr. Crown didn’t…do the things Aleta said he did.”
She stared for a long moment, dumbstruck. “Oh.”
“Yeah.” I pulled my hand back, brought my elbows to my desk, and dropped my forehead to my palms. “Unfortunately, I already accused him of being a sexist pig.”
“Youwhat?” she gasped and looked around like I’d just confessed to murder. “I’m sorry. I know I was worried about you falling for him, but please tell me you didn’t?—”
“I did,” I cut her off. “I accused him of trying to get me fired.”
“And…just to clarify, you’re not fired, correct?”
“No, I’m not fired,” I said and straightened, but as I slid my arms off my desk, my elbow pumped her stack of magazines and sent them sliding onto the floor.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” I muttered and bent to help her pick up the mess.
“So, he didn’t ask to have you fired?”
