Three years ago, I knew she needed a man to keep her out of trouble. Seems that some things haven’t changed. As soon as this project is wrapped, I’ll be on that jet to New York, and Greer Karas and I are going to get reacquainted. Intimately.
Three years ago, I walked before I could dirty up her pristine little world. But now? All bets are off.
I step off East 53rd into the building that houses Sterling & Michaels, and I swear even the security guards are looking at me funny. It shouldn’t be a surprise. I’m an Internet sensation.
Creighton kept me out of the press for years, but even he won’t be able to bury this disaster, which I’m sure he’s trying to do, even though I keep letting his calls go to voice mail. By its very nature, something viral can’t be undone. My brother knows that as well as anyone.
There’s no choice but to brazen it out as I stride across the gray and white marble floor in my most conservative pinstriped skirt suit with my heels clicking with every step. I might not be able to hold on to my job, but I will maintain my dignity at any cost.
When I swipe my badge at the turnstile, it flashes green, admitting me to the elevator bank. Surprise and optimism fill me because if I were fired, I wouldn’t even be able to get up to my office. It’s a highly effective measure for not having to deal with people you don’t want to deal with.
The elevator seems even more painfully slow than normal as it climbs to the forty-seventh floor, allowing me too much time to play out the scenarios in my brain. I’m so screwed.
The cherrywood-paneled walls with brushed gold lettering greet me as I step out with faux confidence, holding my chin high. The receptionist’s automatic smile falters once she realizes who I am.
Her name is Jade, and she started here the same day I did. We share the same birthday, the same love of Holly Wix and Boone Thrasher’s country music, and under different circumstances, I could be her. She’s going to college at night while she works here during the day, and raises a toddler alone after her boyfriend bailed without a word or a dime.
I tried to talk her into letting me use Creighton’s PI to track down his sorry ass so she could get child support, but Jade freaked when I suggested it. She claims having him out of their lives is for the best, even if she’s struggling to stretch every paycheck to make ends meet.
Jade glances from side to side to confirm the lobby is empty, and I can feel the come-to-Jesus speech in the air before she speaks the first word.
“Seriously, G, what the hell were you thinking? Are you trying to get fired?”
In that moment, guilt washes over me. Jade would kill to have my job, and here I am, recklessly endangering it because I decided finding the bottom of a fifth of gin with Banner was a solid idea for getting over the sight of my boyfriend pumping into a skinny redhead’s ass.
I blurt out the first thought in my brain. “He didn’t even stop fucking her to chase after me.”
Jade’s eyes widen in confusion. “What are you talking about?”
“Tristan.”
Understanding dawns over her features, and her hands fist defensively. “Shit. I should have known this had something to do with that little fucker.”
Not quite over the raunchy humor Banner and I were indulging in all night, I respond honestly. “He definitely was little. In every way.”
Jade stands behind the cherry desk and leans forward. “Why didn’t you call me to help hide the body?” Her voice is low and serious.
Mentioning that my brother’s secret mob connection might have been a better option had I gone that route might not be the best choice at this particular moment. Anyway, I wasn’t moved to violence last night. Instead, after the shock of seeing my boyfriend of two years nailing another woman passed, a hollow sort of emptiness took up residence in my chest, along with the gaping pit of failure.
“Greer. You there?”
My attention snapped back to Jade. “Sorry, I left him alive. No hazmat suits needed.”
“Well, maybe you should’ve called me before you decided to get shit-faced, because that’s the only way I can see you posting that ad. What were you thinking? Gah. Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve been there to hand you booze, food, and veto your Internet privileges.”
Her words fire the first real smile to grace my lips today. “Next time I catch my boyfriend fucking another chick, I’ll call you first.”
Her scowl intensifies. “I would’ve killed him.”
“Sometimes killing people isn’t the right answer.”
The elevator opens behind me with a ding and I freeze, not wanting to turn around and see who it is.
Kevin Sunderberg’s nasally voice gives his pompous identity away, saving me the hassle of worrying for more than a hot second.
“I can’t believe you’d even show your face here, Karas. That takes serious balls. Which apparently you’re well acquainted with.” Under his breath, he whispers, “Slut.”