Nat stares at him unblinkingly, and I genuinely fear for his life. With Nat, silence is impending violence. If looks could kill, Jack would be wearing a toe tag. “Her dress is gorgeous, just like her.” Her voice is hypothermic.
“I agree,” Gabriel says flatly, arms crossed. He’s a bouncer ready to toss Jack out of here headfirst,Fresh Prince of Bel-Air–style. He may even throw in an Oscars-esque sucker punch for good measure.
A uniformed server passes by with a platter of horsd’oeuvres and I snatch a few off the tray, barely identifying what they are before cramming them down my throat. Apparently, psychological warfare works up the appetite. Jack gives me a patronizing smirk and I can practically hear the next degrading insult trip off his tongue:You sure you want to eat that? A moment on the lips, a lifetime on the hips!To beat him to the punch, I take my next bite in slow motion, moaning in pleasure with some excessively suggestiveMmm’s. He has to cover his mouth with a hand, and I nearly had him there.
He clears his throat, attempting to recover. “Cassidy is beautiful, there’s no doubt about that,” he says with tenderness, his eyes briefly softening, and for a moment I wonder if he’s going to call a cease-fire—but when they sharpen again, I know he’s about to deliver the knockout blow. “Of course, if you think she looks good now, you should see her in an apron.”
There’s a chorus of muted gasps and I suck in a breath. Unfortunately, I completely forget that my mouth is full of appetizers and I inhale spinach spanakopita down the wrong pipe, sending me into a coughing fit—and because the universe hates me, Cynthia chooses that moment to materialize at our sides.
“Jack Bradford.” The two of them size each other up like Olympic rivals while I choke on phyllo dough. “Can’t say I ever expected to see you at a Siren event.”
“I like surprising people,” he says without a hint of irony. “Though I certainly appreciate the invitation.”
“It’s not me you should be thanking.” She sends me a meaningful glance while Nat beats my back. “Cassidy speaks very highly of you.”
“Does she now?” He swivels his head to catch my eye, asinister Joker grin climbing his face, and now I’m panicking. It’s one thing to act out in front of my friends, but to do so in front of my boss is taking things too far. I defended him to Cynthia. I put my dignity, my credibility—heck, my entirecareeron the line for him. These histrionics might be fulfilling some petty need he has for revenge, but this is my real life we’re talking about. It’s all fun and games until someone gets fired—and since I’m the only one here who doesn’t sign their own checks, I’m the one who will pay the price.
“I do.” I take his hand and squeeze tightly, imploring him with my eyes:You’ve made your point. Please don’t do this.He tilts his head at me, feigning ignorance.
“That’s my girl. You’ve always got my back, haven’t you, babe? And I’ve got yours.” The vindictive gleam in his eyes belies his innocent words, and I know there’ll be no white flag waving on his horizon.
Where is that waitress when I need her?I’d like to stab him in the thigh with a chicken skewer. “I need some air. Jack, would you mind joining me outside?” I ask tersely.Translation: Join me outside or else.
“In a minute, sweetie.” He pats my hand dismissively and I indulge in some internal screaming. “So, Cynthia, things at Siren must be going pretty well these days.” He makes a show of looking around the sprawling ballroom, whistling through his teeth. “This is quite an event.”
“They are, thank you,” she preens. “Cassidy here has certainly had a big hand in that. Though from what I hear through the grapevine, you’ve got some big things happening yourself.” She raises an eyebrow and Jack stiffens slightly, something unspoken passing between them.What is she talking about?“I suppose congratulations are in order.”
“For what?” I ask, genuinely confused.
Jack’s jaw tics, and Cynthia holds eye contact with him for another beat before turning to me. “On this new relationship, of course! Jack, you seem to have somehow won over one of my star writers. Well done.” Though her tone sounds more accusatory than congratulatory.
He dips his head in acknowledgment. “I’m a lucky man. Now if only I could figure out how to win her over professionally,” he says in a flippant, half-teasing but not-really-teasing way. “Brawler could use more strong female voices, and I’m not above using all the tools at my disposal to poach her away.”
I goggle at him like gargoyle horns have just sprouted from his forehead. Me, work at Brawler? Is hehigh?
Cynthia seems a little shell-shocked herself. She looks from him to me, her expression concerned. “Is this true? Are you considering leaving?”
“He’s just kidding. I’m very happy at Siren,” I assure her firmly, beaming him a death glare.
“Are you, though?” Jack drawls lazily. He’s a serial killer about to strike; a cat batting around a mouse before devouring it whole. “Because I seem to remember you saying something about the work feeling unimportant. Or was it uninspired?” He snaps his fingers. “Wait, I remember now. You said it wasn’t exactly changing anyone’s life. That you were killing time until you could write something that matters. Yeah, that was definitely it.”
This must be what it feels like just before you drop dead of a heart attack: dizzy and short of breath, limbs numb, blood pulsing in your ears while a dull, heavy ache slowly expands to fill every space from which you might draw air. I can’t think or speak or even move. Anger and regrettangle around my heart, squeezing until I think it might rupture under the strain.
But I think what hurts the most is that he took something personal between us—something I trusted him with, something that wasours—and twisted it into something ugly.Something meant to hurt me.Despite what I’ve done to deserve his vitriol, I can’t believe he would take things this far.
“How could you.” It comes out in a hoarse whisper. I brush away a tear that’s managed to break through, and I watch his face change, remorse finally making a long-overdue appearance.
I can feel everyone’s eyes on me but I can’t bear to look at them, to see their stunned expressions or the judgment in their eyes. I can’t face Cynthia, or Nat and Gabriel, or anyone else here.
So I turn and rush out.
I hear his voice calling my name and telling me to wait but I don’t stop, pushing through the crowd and tearing out of the ballroom like my feet are on fire. I’ve almost made it to the elevator when his hand grasps my elbow. “You don’t get to run away from me,” he says roughly, out of breath.
“Oh really, so I should stick around for some more abuse? Thanks but no thanks.” I wrestle past him to the elevator and stab the DOWN button a couple of times, willing it to arrive and whisk me away from this nightmare I can’t seem to wake up from.
“You know, I’m pretty sure that in this situation,I’mthe one who gets to act betrayed, not you.”
I whip around. “So you’re the innocent victim and I’m the bad guy, do I have that right? Despite the fact that I’m not the one who justhumiliatedyou in front of your boss,your coworkers, and your friends. In fact, I never did anything to you at all. But congratulations Jack, you got what you wanted. I likely won’t have a job tomorrow, but you can rest easy knowing you got your revenge.” I punch the button a few more times for good measure while hot tears blur my vision.
