Bethany looks down her thin, plastic surgery-perfect nose at me, sniffs, then presses the button for the executive floor.
I’ve never ever been up to the executive suite. It’s quiet and smells like a West Elm. The seats in the conference room are a cream calfskin leather. I’m wearing a denim skirt.
“I’ll just sit in the corner,” I say, taking a spot at one of the benches along the wall.
The CEO and the VPs ignore me when they enter the room, chatting to Bethany, asking after her pregnancy and the babymoon she and Stu took to Anguilla.
McCarthy’s late, if he’s even going to show up at all.
I glance out the window that overlooks Seattle. The afternoon sun breaks up the cloud cover. The HopeWorks Foundation ball is tonight. I have a date lined up for McCarthy.
There’s a knot in my stomach.
A date for McCarthy.
I’m a big girl with a big-girl job,I remind myself. I can’t show up to the charity ball as McCarthy’s date. That would be career suicide. I can handle him spending two hours with another woman. Despite what Hannah says, I am not my mother. For one, I could never have her waist size.
Or at least I could handle it if I weren’t head over heels in love with him, I realize when I see him walking into the conference room twenty minutes late.
We can cry in the bathroom stall later,I assure myself, my eyes pricking when I think about another woman on his arm tonight.
“My apologies,” he says as he sits down without shaking anyone’s hand. “Got caught up in another meeting. We’ll make this quick, though. There’s an event tonight, I believe, that I’m required to attend.” He glances back and sees me in the corner and winks at me.
It’s not his dirty wink. It’s his “I’m about to fuck shit up” wink.
I grip my notepad as he continues.
“I just want to express how pleased I am with the services your firm has provided.” McCarthy’s voice is pleasant. “And I came here to personally tell you that and…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “To discuss extending my contract, not just for me but for my company.”
The CEO and the VPs make appreciative noises.
“That’s Bethany’s department. We’ll miss her on maternity leave.”
“Indeed. I’m sure Jenna can fill her shoes temporarily. She’s done wonders for me. Don’t you agree, Bethany?”
My supervisor’s nostrils are flared, white rings appearing where they crease. “Jenna is not quite experienced enough to handle the RDC contract, so we will assign a full team to your company immediately and hit the ground running,” Bethany says tersely.
“No, thank you. I prefer Jenna. She’s been…” There’s another conspiratorial glance back to me. “Insightful.”
“I’m sure we can have Jenna run a team, right, Bethany?” The VP laughs heartily. “We want to keep Mr. Svensson happy.”
“I’m sure Jenna’s been keeping you happy.” Bethany spits the words. “Considering she’s sleeping with him.”
The CEO looks like he wants to die.
The VP of finance is already counting McCarthy’s money and steps in to salvage the situation. “Not a problem. I, myself, left my wife for one of the receptionists at my previous place of employment,” the VP assures McCarthy.
“You did?” The CEO seems horrified.
“Guilty as charged.”
McCarthy smirks. “Is that going to be a problem for Prism if I’m sleeping with one of your employees? If so, I can go elsewhere.”
“Absolutely not.” The VP is firm.
“I knew it!” Bethany shrieks, pointing at me. “I knew you were there that night in his penthouse, trying to pretend like that revolting little dog wasn’t yours.”
McCarthy readies the bomb. “You’re pregnant, so you’re probably just horny and getting off on thinking about a guy hotter and richer than your husband fucking your subordinate.”
