“Janice, screen my calls today unless it’s urgent. I have business,” Travis says, flashing her a smile. “Thanks.”
“Your nine o’clock is here, Travis—ah, I mean, Mr. Phoenix.”
Oh boy.
What have I missed?
“Perfect. Conference room in five.”
She nods so fast she nearly drops her clipboard, and we step into the elevator.
“You fucked her again, didn’t you?” I whisper.
Travis’s eyes narrow. “No.”
“Is that a lie?”
“No, but...”
“But?”
“There was a night, not too long before the fire, where I got drunk and we made out. After I spent two hours...”
“Two hours what?” I say, crossing my arms.
“Two hours telling her all about what happened.”
I groan. “Oh. So, she hates me?”
“I didn’t blame it all on you, but you know...”
“Trav—”
“She won’t stop texting me, so I think I got what I deserve.”
I laugh. “You’re hopeless.”
“Tell me about it.”
On the top floor, everyone stares as he escorts me into his office. I can only imagine just how quickly the gossip will spread when I leave today.
He shuts the door with a click, flicks on the lights, and I take in the mountain of fan mail and files covering his desk.
“Well, fuck,” he mutters. “You’d think I’d been gone for years.”
“Need help?”
“Half of this is fan mail, half is bookkeeping. You up for sorting it?”
“Sure,” I say.
“I’ll pay you,” he adds.
I arch an eyebrow. “That’s weird.”
“Not really. I need a new PA. Janice has moved to reception and can’t do both much longer.”
I purse my lips. “Is that allowed?”
