Page 28 of Nailed

“I’m such an idiot,” she groans. She looks tired and as hungry as she said.

“You’re not an idiot; you’re my little rock star. Remember when I said you work for me and only me? You forgot that, didn’t you?”

She nods, her chin shaking. “I’m sorry. I used up a good chunk of the budget, too. I was trying too hard to impress you guys.”

“Your budget just tripled. And so did your salary.”

“Buck, you’re paying me too much as it is.”

A voice cuts through the air. “Yes. You are.”

Wade swaggers in from the hallway. Slowly, I set Grace down and prepare to have it out with my brother.

“What the hell is your problem? Lying to an employee? Stressing her the fuck out on her first day?”

“Someone had to give her a thorough interview. For all I know, you could have hired a fraud.”

Next to me, Grace’s shoulders sag. She seems to shrink inside herself. I reach for her, confused, but she steps away from me.

“Brother, you had best apologize to our stager.”

“But she’s not a stager. Are you, Grace?”

I point a finger in his face. “You don’t talk to her—”

“The home address on her file is the same as the label on the photos in her portfolio!”

“You’re talking crazy, Wade,” I spit out. “And what are you doing putting your hands on her personnel file?”

“Stop it!”

We both turn to see the frazzled, exhausted Grace slump against the wall. She looks at me with tears in her eyes. “Wade guessed right. Somehow, he knew I lied to you on my résumé. Buck, I’m so sorry. I’ve never done this before. I’ve never done anything close to this before.”

I blink at her. This can’t be true, what she’s saying. “But you showed me a portfolio.”

“Did you even look at it? It was pictures of my and Presley’s apartments.”

“Huh?”

“She let me rearrange her furniture, that’s it,” Grace says, her eyes shining with sadness. “I’m not a professional stager.”

CHAPTERTHIRTEEN

Grace

I wait for the ax to fall. I wait to get reamed, fired, threatened with a lawsuit over all the money I’ve spent, threatened with criminal charges for…I don’t know, impersonating someone I’m not and fucking the boss? That can’t be legal.

But none of that happens.

Buck tosses his head back and barks out a laugh.

“Buck? Aren’t you going to fire her?”

But my soon-to-be-ex-boss-and-ex-boyfriend only laughs harder. “You rearranged her furniture?” Now he’s doubled over. He’s so angry he’s laughing because he can’t believe what I’ve done.

“Yeah, that’s all I did. I’m not a professional. I’m just a disappointment. To everyone.”

His laughter ceases, finally. “Listen to me. Don’t you ever call yourself that again? I won’t hear it.”

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