“I’m not trying to have an affair with McCarthy.” I choke out the words. “He’s a nightmare.”
I bite my tongue before I can give Bethany an excuse to fire me right then and there. Now that my relationship with Nathan has been thrown in a dumpster and set on fire, I really can’t afford to lose my job. I swallow the bitter resentment in my throat at my job, at Nathan, and especially at McCarthy for not cooperating with the original plan.
I straighten my shoulders. “I’m sorry, Bethany. I had a lapse in judgment. It won’t happen again.”
Bethany gives me a sour look like she wants me to give her an excuse to fire me. “I don’t want another disaster from you. No more dementia-riddled family members fraternizingwith our clients. You’re on thin ice, Jenna. Oh, and Jenna? Clean up your desk. It’s a pigsty.”
“My desk isn’t that messy,” I mutter to Truman as I stack the papers I’m using to plot out the revised ten-step plan. “My desk looks like someone is actually working onreal workand not micromanaging other people.”
“That is a very flattering blouse. Where’d you buy it?”
I whirl around.
Truman growls as Bethany’s husband approaches, blocking me in the aisle of desks.
“I’m thinking about buying Bethany a blouse like that.” Stu licks his lips.
I grab the collar of the blouse and hold it closed. I can’t actually button the top two buttons because, you know, the stress eating—what with my job, my crazy family, and my relationship, which, now that I think about it,didhave warning signs.
Bethany’s husband isn’t hiding his obvious interest in me.
“Jenna’s such a pretty name.”
“Yep.”
He’s not taking the hint.
“Heard you had a little trouble with my wife.”
“Just work stuff.”
That slimy tongue pokes out to wet his lips.
“We could meet up for a drink sometime, and I could…” He stretches out a hand to rest it on my shoulder. “I could help convince her to be in your corner. Give you a break now and then. I have a certain, shall we say, fatherly affection for you, Jenna.”
Gross, gross, gross.
“Jenna.”
At her office door, Bethany’s vibrating with fury. Her eyes dart from me to the hand on my shoulder to her husband.
“I—”
Her husband leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. It comes too fast for me to step back.
“You just have to humor her,” he tells me with a chuckle. “She likes to bite my head off too.”
Bethany looks like she’s going tochopmy head off.
“Get. Out.”
“But it’s only—”
“Out!”
“Now, don’t be like that, pumpkin.”
Bethany slaps her husband’s hand away as I grab my things, stuff Truman into his bag, and dart to the elevator.
