Page 47 of Love & Other Disasters

“And he’s long gone now.”

“Of course, he is.”

The waitress returned with their food. Elle dug in to her meal, and Violet picked up a fry and tried to find her hunger.

“I’m not too worried about it,” Violet said. “The company isn’t making it through this, and J.P. will be off to his next company to save, so there’s no way this can turn into a long-term thing. It’s just sex, not a romance.”

Elle shook her head and washed down her burger before she spoke. “No way. I don’t buy it.”

“I’m not selling anything.”

“He called Brent like twenty times looking for you, asking if I’d passed on his number. Sorry to tell you this, but you and your magic vag have him under a spell.”

Violet choked on her drink, almost spitting it out. “You’re insane,” she said, after regaining her composure.

“You haven’t heard from him today?”

“No, he never showed up at his office.”

“He hasn’t called or texted?”

“I still haven’t given him my number.”

It was Elle’s turn to almost spit. “What? How is that possible?”

“I have his number and address in my phone, but I didn’t give him mine.”

“I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“You can start by saying you were wrong about this being a relationship.”

Elle rolled her eyes. “I’m not wrong. So, are you ready to jump off that sinking ship of a company?”

Violet shrugged. “I’ve always wanted to do this on my own and not rely on nepotism.”

“Where does sleeping with your boss come in?”

“An impulse decision.”

Elle shook her head. “If you plan to keep sleeping with him, you need to quit. Cause it’s gonna come back and bite you in the ass.” She punctuated her point by stabbing her fork into the air in Violet’s direction.

It wasn’t possible for a day to last this long. J.P. had chosen to meet Bob with legal counsel present because he wasn’t sure how Bob would take the news that he suspected Melvin of embezzlement. But after he laid out all of the evidence he’d collected, Bob accepted the truth of the situation. The files on Violet and Bob from his PI buddy were on his desk, but he was still looking into Melvin. Turns out the old man was slippery.

Melvin hadn’t been able to destroy all of the evidence. Like Violet, most of the other team members hadn’t bothered to delete the deleted items folder of their emails and had recovered their spreadsheets. They had to create an investigation plan to go further than he’d gotten and they were bringing in a forensic accountant with more experience in tracing funds. The legal team went into frantic mode.

He didn’t get back to his office until well after everyone had gone home, including Violet. All of the calm contentment he found with her wrapped around him that morning was long gone. He walked the empty floor, stopping next to her desk; there wasn’t anything on it, except the computer, a stapler, a cup containing two pens, and an empty inbox. Maybe there were personal items in the desk drawers. Unlike most of the other women, she didn’t have any photos, plants, cute knick-knacks, or hand lotion. Hers looked like she could leave with a moment’s notice; his heart sank.

That morning with Violet in his bed, writhing underneath him, played on a loop in his brain. Somehow he already missed her, and after the day he had, he wanted to be with her again and wrap his arms around her. The problem was, she’d never given him her number, and he couldn’t contact her and tell her. The folder on his desk contained her number and so much more, but he wouldn’t use it. He’d already used the information to go to her parents’ house, overstepping his boundaries. He didn’t want to breach that trust again, and give her any reason not to want him. Violet contacting him was the only way he’d speak to her tonight.

Nervous energy coursed through his body, and unable to sit still, he paced his office floor. There wasn’t anything else he could do today. He needed to burn it off and without Violet. That meant the gym. He grabbed the computer bag and slammed the door behind him. The phone rang as he pulled out of the parking lot. He hoped it was Violet, but Brent’s name flashed on the dashboard screen. He pressed the answer button.

“What’s up?”

“What in the living hell are you doing?” Brent’s voice filled the car.

“I’m driving to the gym for a workout.”

“Good. Meet you there.” The phone disconnected.

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