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“Crew…”
“I saidgo, Isabel. I’m your boss. If you want to keep your job, you’ll never touch me inappropriately again.”
She stands, some defiance mixing with the hurt. “I won’t tell anyone about us. You can trust me.”
“There is no us, and I don’t trust you, Isabel. I’mmarried.”
Isabel scoffs. “Not happily.”
“I. Don’t. Want. You. Don’t test me, Isabel. You won’t like the consequences.”
Reality and stubbornness fight for space in her expression. “I’ve had a crush on you since I started here, you know. I should have made a move sooner. Apparently, I was the only person in this city unaware you were engaged to Scarlett Ellsworth. What I get for avoiding gossip, huh? But then everyone said she was cold and detached and only in it for the money. So I thought I still had a shot.”
I sigh, suddenly exhausted. “Iamhappily married, Isabel.”
She gives me a small, sad smile. “Yeah, I figured that out when you jumped away like I’d set the couch on fire.”
“I didn’t know you felt that way. If you want to transfer to another team, I can—”
“No. No, it won’t be an issue. I promise.”
I study her for a minute, weighing her sincerity. “I don’t give second chances.”
She swallows and bobs a nod. “I know.”
“Good.”
I watch her leave, then sink down behind my desk. If Asher ever caught wind of what just happened, I wouldn’t hear the end of it for a while. He’s the one who insisted Isabel had feelings for me. After her questions about Scarlett, I thought we’d moved past it. Thought she knew it would never happen. Even if Isabel had expressed interest sooner. I kept sex uncomplicated—and sleeping with a member of the board wasn’t that. And now… I’ve never explicitly promised Scarlett fidelity. But up until the opportunity to cheat was dropped in my lap—literally—doing so didn’t occur to me.
My phone vibrates with a text from my brother.
Oliver:I know you’ve seen the news. We’re back in NY. Meet you at the office at 8.
I stumble as I stand, either from the whiskey or the exhaustion catching up to me. But my steps are steady as I leave my exit and head toward the elevators. There’s no sign of Isabel, nor anyone else.
I know driving is a bad idea, so I flag a cab once I reach the street and give the driver the address for my family’s estate just outside of the city. The trip takes twenty minutes. I start to feel the buzz of alcohol about ten minutes in. But it doesn’t deter me.
After paying the driver and punching in the code, I walk through the front door. Automatically, my feet veer to the right, toward my father’s study. There’s already a light on, but I’m more focused on collapsing onto the couch than squinting at my surroundings.
“I hope you didn’t drive here,” my father comments, rising from behind his mahogany desk and walking over to the fireplace. He pours himself a glass of scotch and takes a seat in one of the chairs that flank the stone façade.
“Is it true?” I ask the ceiling.
My father sighs. Ice clinks as he swirls his glass. “It’s not quite as bad as the press is saying. But yes, there were some questions being asked. It was being handled.”
“Dammit, Dad. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“So you could say exactly what you’ve been telling everyone all day: you had no idea.”
“You should have told me. I’m supposed the future CEO!”
“Nothing future about it. I’m stepping down. It will be official by the end of the week.”
“I—are you fucking kidding me? You’re handing me the keys to the castle…while it’s under attack?”
“Don’t be so dramatic. The company will be fine.”
“And if it’s not?” I snap. “What the fuck then?
