Page 90 of Make Them Cry
Andrew’s voice slices across the floor, flat and unbothered. The office buzz stills around me like a record scratch. Heads turn subtly.
I paste on mysure, bosssmile and grab my tablet.
Inside his office, the blinds are half-drawn. He waves to a chair but doesn’t sit himself, preferring to perch on the edge of his desk with that easy, confident posture that used to come across as charming. Now?
I seeliarin the seams of his button-up.
“Just wanted a quick update on the terrain rendering for the Temple Cavern module,” he says, folding his arms.
I nod and flip to the schematic. “Still on track. I'm testing a new shadow-mapping protocol that should reduce the visual stutter by about 30%.”
He hums. “Excellent. I’ll need a write-up by end of day.”
“Of course,” I say, trying to keep my tone even. He’s acting normal, like hedidn’tjust suck face with Helena in a city park like anunmarriedman. Like he isn’t one of the highest-up people at NovaPlay. And she’s HR.HR, for God’s sake.
My stomach twists. I hate secrets. Especially when they’re wrapped in shiny job titles and smug smiles.
As I leave his office, my gaze instinctively slides to Gage. He looks up. Our eyes meet. And for a second, the whole damn building disappears.
He knows.
Heknowswhat I just had to stomach.
I return to my desk, jaw tight, chest tighter—and that’s when I see her.
Tasha.
Sittingonmy desk, actually. Like she owns it. A Starbucks cup in one hand, that magazine-smile on her face.
“Hey, stranger,” she chirps. “Figured I’d stop by and say hi since I haven’t seen you outside of girls' night in a while.”
I force a smile. “Been busy.”
Her eyes flick to Gage’s desk and back. “Mmm. I bet.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
She just laughs. “Come on, Riv. Everyone saw how you two were eye-banging each other all last week. I’m not judging.” She sipsher coffee, red nails gleaming. “It’s just weird, isn’t it? Sleeping with someone at work when there’s so much chaos going on?”
My pulse stutters. She’s needling me. But why?
I lean back in my chair and give her a neutral look. “Pretty sure you’ve got the market cornered on office gossip.”
“True,” she purrs. “But not even I can tell who’s behind these leaks. Makes you wonder though, right?” She tilts her head. “Who’s leaking this stuff? Who’s logging into your life?”
I bristle. She knows.She has to know.
She’s not just throwing darts. She’s watching me bleed.
I don’t reply. I can’t.
She waves with the hand holding her coffee and walks away like she didn’t just leave landmines behind.
I try to get back to work, but the buzzing under my skin won’t stop. Gage sees it. He walks by once, brushes his fingers across the back of my chair, and murmurs, “You okay?”
“I’m fine.”
I’m not.
