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When I round the corner to Sal’s end of the floor, I see Lainey, head down at her desk working. She looks up, and the worry that plagues her face is instant. “Tyler . . .” She stands up, like she’s preparing to tackle me to the floor to stop me doing what she knows I’m planning. “What are you doing?”
“Telling Sal.” I’m straight to the point as I stride past her desk, determination coursing through me.
“No, Tyler.” She’s coming after me. “Please. Now’s really not a great time.”
“It’ll never be a great time.” I take the handle of Sal’s door, feeling Lainey’s palm wrap around my bicep and tug me back. “Lainey,” I argue, letting her pull me around. “Let’s just get it done with.”
“Tomorrow. I’ll tell him tomorrow.” She pleads with me on a whisper, hands on my chest as she looks up at me with begging eyes.
She’s stalling. This has nothing to do with now not being a good time and everything to do with Lainey delaying this. Why? It’s frustrating and worrying in equal measure. “Why tomorrow. Why not now?” I throw my arm back to point at Sal’s door. “His mood will be no better tomorrow. It’s nothing to do with work, Lainey. He’s just having a tough time at home with his wife and daughter.”
Lainey cringes and glances away, dropping my arm, but before I can proceed with my speech, Sal’s office door swings open and he appears, frowning. “What’s going on?”
I’m glad he’s asked. “You got five minutes?”
The frown remains firmly in place as he looks between us. “Sure.” He backs up into his office, opening the way for me. “Get me a coffee,” he orders Lainey, and I balk.
Lainey shakes her head, as if to tell me to let it go. I will. But just this once. She looks terrified, but I can’t let her obvious worry steer me off course.
I start to close the door, but a yell from down the hall has me pulling it back open. I look past Lainey, who quickly turns to see what the commotion is all about.
“What’s that?” Sal asks, muscling past me.
“Excuse me, madam,” Gina yells, hurrying toward us, in pursuit of a woman who’s clearly on the rampage. “Madam, you can’t just bowl in here.”
“Stop me,” the woman hisses, looking furious as she steams toward me. I take in the scene, but most of all I take in the woman’s face. It’s bright red with anger, steam virtually blowing out of her ears.
“Can I help you?” I ask as she comes to a stop a few feet away.
She looks me up and down. “Can you help me?” she asks, face twisting. “No, but she can.” Her arm shoots out, and I follow her pointed finger, finding it’s directed at Lainey. “You slut,” she barks.
I recoil, completely shocked. “Hey, there’s no—”
“He fell in love with you, you whore.” The woman prowls toward Lainey, whose eyes are wide and worried.
What the hell? “Lady, I don’t know who you are or what this is about—”
“Stay away from my husband,” she screams. “I’m warning you.”
Oh . . .
I shoot a look at Lainey, waiting for her to argue back, but she says nothing, keeping herself at a safe distance from the volatile woman. I’m stunned into silence, my mind tumbling into bedlam.
“I haven’t seen your husband,” Lainey says quietly, flicking a glance to me.
“Then what about last night?” The woman moves closer to Lainey, literally spitting nails. “You didn’t meet him?”
My stomach lurches, like someone could have just punched me there. Fucking hard. “What?” I whisper, looking at Lainey, who’s now refusing to make eye contact. I dropped her home last night. She said she had things to do with her sister.
“It wasn’t what you think,” Lainey says to the woman, confirming my fears. She lied to me? My heart drops into my aching stomach and rattles around, making me feel sick.
“You fucking bitch.” The woman dives at Lainey and slaps her clean across the face, the sound piercing. “You gave me your word. You said you’d stay away from him.” She swings at Lainey again, but before her vicious hand connects with her face, I’m between the two women, taking the blow to my shoulder.
“Enough,” I yell, acting as a shield to Lainey, my instinct to protect her unstoppable. “Keep your fucking hands off her.”
The woman, heaving and hissing, backs up, throwing Lainey a look that could melt a man made of steel. “Got her claws into you, has she?” She’s practically foaming at the mouth as she points at me, before directing her accusing finger at Sal. “And probably him, too. She’s a man-eater.”
I’m not listening to this, not only because it’s unbearable to hear. “Gina, get her out of here,” I order, giving my PA a look to suggest that if she chooses to use brute force, because I know she’s perfectly capable, then I’m good with that. “Now.”
