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“And all of those people happen to be his people. Like his sister.” Dean has the villain eyebrow going again. “Of course she’s going to defend his position.”
“His position?” I snort, even though my stomach is doing horrible somersaulty things. “This isn’t a criminal court case. And Sunny can’t lie. She’s worse than me. Have you ever seen her try to lie? It’s ridiculous. Alex did not bone three chicks in one night. End of story.”
“If you say so.” Dean’s smirking again.
“Why are you being like this today?”
“I’m just making a point. Usually there’s some truth in rumors. Waters may not have banged loads of bunnies, but he sure stuck his tongue in a lot of their mouths. Who knows if he did it with his dick, too.”
“Dean!” Charlene hisses, slapping his arm.
“What?” He looks around.
People are staring, and for once, I’m not the cause of the embarrassment. But I’m sure feeling the effects. I’m sure my face is blotchy. I look at the floor and let my hair shield my face from all the curious eyeballs.
Thankfully it’s our turn in line. I step up to the counter and order a BLT and a drink, then move aside. I don’t say anything else while we’re in the café, and Dean’s busy on his phone, doing whatever he does when he’s not being an asshole to me, apparently.
Once we have our food, we return to the office. I’m not interested in hearing more about the Darcys’ swinger habits, Dean’s thoughts on Alex’s sexual history, or a potential pre-nup.
“I really need to get back to work. That took a lot longer than I expected.” It’s not a total lie. Getting food took all of the twenty minutes I’d allotted to lunch.
Charlene seems conflicted. “Come sit with us for five minutes before you go back to work.”
“I can’t. I have too much to do. It’s cool. I’ll catch up with you later. We have the game tonight, anyway. If I don’t want to bring a file folder full of work, I need to get back to it.”
“Oh, that’s right, you two get great seats, don’t you? Must be nice to have all those connections.” Dean takes a break from his texting, or messaging, or snapchatting to join our conversation again.
“Did you forget to take your PMS pills today?” Charlene asks.
Dean’s mouth drops open. He twirls around and stomps down the hall.
Charlene waits until he’s out of earshot before she says, “Don’t take anything he says to heart, Vi. I think he’s got some personal stuff going on, and last week he made a bookkeeping mistake and got in trouble for it. He’s jealous.”
“That doesn’t mean he can be a jerk to me.”
“I’m not defending him. I’m just telling you what I know.”
“Right. Okay. I’m still going to go back to my desk. I don’t need to put up with that.”
“I could come with you.”
“It’s okay. I really will be working, so I won’t be any fun.”
“Okay. I’ll see you in a bit.”
I grab her arm before she walks away. “Do you think he’s right, though?”
“Right about what?”
Just then a few of the women from the senior accounting department round the corner. Their giggling stops when they see us, and they plaster on fake smiles to go with their fake hellos.
“Nothing. Never mind. I’ll see you after lunch.”
Charlene follows behind the others. Looking over her shoulder, she sticks her tongue in her cheek like she’s giving a blow job. I smile and wait for her to disappear around the corner before I let my shoulders droop. I’m definitely beginning to feel the divide between me and them. And I’m not sure how much I like it.
Back at my desk, I flop into my chair and set my sandwich next to my keyboard. Shrugging out of my coat, I turn my monitor on, waiting for my login prompt.
Dean makes a valid point. While he wasn’t a manwhore, Alex did make out with a lot of girls prior to dating me. There are literally hundreds of pictures of him with his tongue in various girls’ mouths. Now, I don’t know how many of those girls ever got their hands down his pants, or got on their knees and tried to get his massive cannon down the hatch, but I’m imagining there were at least a few. Maybe more than a few.
Combine that revelation with the conversation about a pre-nup, and now I’m feeling less secure. Plus, the rumor about the Darcys being swingers is disconcerting, even if it is just a rumor. I don’t want to think about them boning other people while I’m presenting their financial portfolio next week.
I thought swinging was popular in the sixties and seventies, when everyone was doing coke and didn’t understand the ramifications of banging all sorts of people. I shudder at the idea of Alex putting his hands, or any other part of his body, on Darcy’s wife.
