Page 79 of Love In Hiding

“I didn’t even talk to him yesterday,” she said, pretending indifference. Her sister saw right through it. Of course she did.

“Why didn’t you reach out to him?”

“I had nothing to say. And we were working.”

“Maybe he had little to say to you too. Did you think of that?” Paris asked.

“I’m a delight to talk to and hang out with,” she said, lifting her chin several notches so she might crane her neck soon.

“Now you’re just being silly.”

“Trying,” she said. “Thanks for talking me off the ledge. You always manage it.”

“I seem to be the only one who can. Are things okay with you two? Or are you both reconsidering now?”

“I’m not. Not sure about him.”

“You won’t know unless you talk to him,” Paris said and stood. “I’ve got work to do.”

She scrubbed her hands over her face.

She should apologize to Spencer at the very least. It’s not like it was anything he did and yet she took it out on him.

When her computer dinged, she looked in her email to see one from Noelle.

Her tongue came out of her mouth pretending to gag.

God only knows what it was going to say. Maybe it’d correct her on how to format an email.

She hit the mouse to click it open. A short, sweet, and maybe genuine apology. That she was excited and got ahead of herself and wouldn’t do it again.

Rather than reply, she picked her phone up and texted Spencer.

Can you talk?

She stared at the message for a full minute, long enough to regret sending it, until the read receipt popped up and her phone rang instantly.

“I took care of it,” Spencer said, his voice low and clipped.

She blinked. “Took care of what?”

“Noelle.”

Her brows shot up. “Did you tell her to apologize to me? Because I just got an email. And it shockingly didn’t make me want to set my computer on fire.”

“It should. She cried.”

Her jaw dropped. “You made her cry?”

“Now I’m the villain,” he muttered. “I didn’t yell at her, London. I just explained how things are going to work. Calmly. Directly. With no wiggle room.”

“In that dry, unarguable, I-am-the-lawyer-and-this-is-the-law tone you use?”

“That one,” he said. “The one that somehow bounces right off you.”

She snorted. “Sorry I was a bitch. She hit an irritated itch.”

“Irritated, huh?” he drawled. “Funny. I thought you liked itches scratched.”