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I clear my throat. “Scarlett—”
“I have to go.” She glances at her watch. “I have a meeting in ten minutes. This took longer than I expected.”
“The meeting or the blowjob?”
She smirks. Then she brushes past, leaving me to zip up my pants and wonder—once again—what the hell just happened?
I’m sitting at my desk debating whether I should go home yet when Oliver opens my door.
“Ever heard of knocking?” I snap.
“She’s meeting with him.”
“Who is meeting with who?”
“Scarlett. The PI Dad hired just reported she’s at a hotel with Nathaniel Stewart.”
I bite the inside of my cheek. Is that what earlier was about? Guilt? “Right now?”
“That’s what I just said. Come on, let’s go.”
“Go where?”
“To thehotel, Crew.”
“I told you I would handle it.”
“Yeah, well, you handling it seems a lot like you doing nothing. I’m going. You can stay if you want.”
That gets me moving. Oliver showing up alone won’t end well.
The drive starts out in silence, but it doesn’t last long. “Is she like that with you? That shit in the meeting earlier? Dad actuallyreadthe two company emails ‘he’ sent out earlier, you know.” Oliver laughs.
“It’s complicated.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“Guess I don’t see the appeal of being with a doormat, the way you and Dad do.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Aren’t you sleeping with Candace?”
Oliver’s Porsche swerves to the right and then back straight as he corrects the steering. “Who told you that?”
“You just did.” I laugh. “Wow. Seriously?”
His hands look white thanks to the pressure he’s exerting on the wheel. “Does Dad know?”
“Considering he hasn’t punched you, I doubt it.”
Oliver scoffs. “He doesn’t care about her.”
“He doesn’t,” I agree. “But he’ll definitely care his son is having sex with his wife. If that got out…it would be a PR nightmare for the company.”
“It’s not going to get out.”
I’m not so certain, but I don’t say so. “How did it start?”
