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“You’d have to ask her.”
“Come on, Quinn. Throw me a bone. She’d never tell me if it was horrible. She’s too stubborn.”
A pang shot through my chest when I recalled the mascara streaks on her pillowcase. “I’m under the impression she’s being treated as well as any other intern.”
“So she’s getting dicked around and eating shit all day?”
“You sure you want the truth when you’re too far away to do anything about it?” I asked, hoping he would tell me that breathing the air rolling off the Thames had made him a man who suddenly preferred the bliss of ignorance.
“I always want the truth.”
My jaw ticked with disappointment. “In that case, yeah. I think she’s having a tough time.”
James exhaled his frustration into the receiver.
“But for what it’s worth, I don’t think she regrets taking the gig. She said she doesn’t miss her old job, anyway. So that’s positive.”
“I was afraid this might happen,” he muttered. “That the job would be tough and I wouldn’t be there to support her.”
I’m here, I wanted to say. And I’m not going to let you down. But the words clung to the tip of my tongue and refused to let go.
“I’m glad you’re there to look out for her,” he said, oblivious to his understatement. “After all, no one has more penance to pay for abusing interns than you do. The least you can do is chuck her the occasional ‘atta girl’ to keep her from getting discouraged.”
“It was only that one intern,” I corrected. “And he deserved all the shit I gave him, the entitled prick.”
“Still. Maeve can be a bit up her own ass sometimes, and cheerleading has never been her strong suit.”
“Don’t worry,” I said, doing my best Eeyore impression, as if looking out for Maddy was a big chore. “I’ll manage.”
“I’m not asking you to emote or anything. Just let her vent from time to time if you can bear it. She’s the kind of girl that blooms better when she feels like there’s someone she can count on, someone in her corner.”
God, how I wanted to be in all her goddamn corners. “I’ll try.”
“Thanks, man. I owe you one.”
“You can repay me by not knocking up any English birds and returning to American soil safely.”
“Deal.”
I hung up with James, feeling sick with guilt. Granted, I could have gone racing so much farther across the line than I had last Friday. But in my mind, the line wasn’t even in sight anymore. I was already deep under his sister’s covers with my hands wrapped around her curves, her heartbeat syncing with mine as I sent her over the edge and watched her come undone with my name on her lips…
There was no doubt about it. I was a terrible roommate and an even shittier friend.
“Hey, Draper—”
I looked up from my phone screen to see one of my fellow agents’ head in the doorway.
“You want to come out with the crew tonight?”
Drinking with my smug colleagues wasn’t exactly my favorite way to relax. Then again, neither was skulking around my apartment with a sore dick because of my adorable roommate. “What do you guys have planned?”
“A few drinks at the Astrid, and then we’re heading to the Kittycat Lounge. Apparently, that dancer Turbo’s hung up on is headlining tonight.”
Christ.
“What do you say? You look like it’s been too long since your last lap dance.”
“You’re right about that,” I grumbled, wondering if a good drinking session would help take my mind off the fuckable brunette who kept making my bathroom smell like a tropical rainforest.
“See you in the lobby at five then?” he asked, his thin brows lifting in invitation.
“Sure,” I said. “Why the hell not?”
He didn’t stick around to answer my hypothetical question. Not that it mattered. After all, I already knew the answer, which was that I shouldn’t go because hanging out with my self-important, overpaid colleagues made me depressed. And when I got depressed, I drank too much. And when I drank too much, I was liable to do something stupid.
