Page 127 of All the Wrong Places

CHAPTER FORTY-SIX

People were staring. Heather was sure of it.

All morning, she’d had the uncomfortable feeling that everyone was looking at her. Normally, she would have relished the attention, assumed her coworkers were secretly admiring her outfit or the fun way she’d styled her hair. But there was nothing new about either her hairdo or her lilac-colored dress, so it couldn’t be that. Also, she thought she’d heard whispering, possibly even snickering, as she’d walked down the aisle toward her desk after an extended bathroom break. She quickly checked her shoes to make sure she wasn’t trailing a stream of toilet paper behind her.

That was when she caught Kendall glancing at her from across the aisle.

“Hey,” she said as Kendall turned away.

“Sorry?” Kendall asked. “Are you talking to me?”

“Do you see anyone else here?”

Kendall cleared her throat. “What’s up?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing.”

Kendall shrugged.

“Has Marsha said anything to you?” Heather asked.

“About what?”

“About my job,” Heather said, growing impatient. She’d had her performance review on Monday, and as expected, it hadn’t gone particularly well. She had a month to start applying herself or start looking for another position.

Kendall shook her head. “No. Marsha hasn’t said anything.”

“Butsomebodyhas,” Heather probed.

“Not about your job, no.”

“What, then?”

Kendall glanced quickly up and down the aisle. “You really don’t know?”

“For God’s sake, Kendall. What the hell is going on?”

Kendall rolled her chair across the aisle until she was positioned beside Heather in front of her computer. “You haven’t seen this?” She clicked onto YouTube.

“Seen what?” Heather watched as Kendall’s fingers flew across her keyboard.

“At first I thought it wasyou,” Kendall said, as the grainy image of two people embracing on a city street filled the screen. “But I knew that wasn’t your new dress…”

Heather gasped. Despite the darkness of the night and the poor quality of the picture, there was no mistaking the identity of the people involved. Heather sank back in her chair, watching as Noah’s lips moved from Paige’s neck up to her eyes before landing passionately on her lips. The evidence was clear: Noah was hardly the victim of a sneak attack; that lip lock was nothing if not mutual.

If anything, Noah had been the aggressor.

And suddenly there were voices to go along with the humiliating video, although it was difficult to make out everything that was being said:“We were going through a rough patch…Heather started coming over…Hair just so…My fault?…Sweatpants.”And then louder, clearer:“Then stop talking, you fucking idiot!”

Followed seconds later by a loud, resounding slap.

“Turn it off,” Heather directed.

Kendall immediately exited the site. “I’m sorry. I thought for sure you knew. Everybody’s talking about it.”

“Oh, God.”

“I’m sorry,” Kendall said again.

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