“Come on, let’s get back to the gala before Carlos creates a PR disaster.”
I smile, wiping away a tear, and follow him, because at this point, there’s nothing else I can do.
40
VAR review
WOULD'VE, COULD'VE, SHOULD'VE BY TAYLOR SWIFT
I’m almost done replying to every email from the weekend when a knock comes at my office door.
“Yeah?” I call, eyes still on my computer screen.
The door opens. I don’t even need to look up to know who’s here. The energy in the room shifts immediately into something heavy and suffocating.
Matt.
My stomach churns. I’ve been avoiding him since the gala. Since he realized the truth. It feels like he holds all the cards now and I hate it.
He’s leaning against the doorframe like he owns the building.
“Busy?” he asks.
“Very.”
That should be the end of it, but of course, it isn’t.
He steps in anyway and closes the door behind him. Every cell in my body goes on high alert. It’s one thing to have to converse with him, but alone, behind closed doors, it’s something entirely worse.
“I thought we should catch up,” he says casually, circling my desk like a goddamn vulture. “It was such a big weekend, after all.”
“I already sent a full gala recap to your team,” I say, keeping my voice steady.
“Oh, I got it,” he says, leaning against the edge of my desk, invading my space. “But you left out some vital information.”
He lets that settle, but I don’t take the bait.
Matt studies me for a long moment before he exhales theatrically, loading his voice with a thick, condescending tone. “You’ve done a lot of great work here, Addison. It would be a real shame to tarnish that reputation with a scandal.”
My blood turns ice cold.
I lean back slightly. “What are you talking about?”
“I think you know.”
"Do I?” I play dumb. I know exactly what he’s referring to. What I don’t know is why any of it matters.
“Come on, Addison.” He smiles, but he’s not even trying to be warm. “Or should I say… Addie?”
Silence grows between us. The implication hangs there, thick and poisonous.
“What's your point?"
“You think I can’t see the way he looks at you? The way you look at him? How you disappear, one after the other? That little stunt at the gala?”
He’s waiting for me to flinch, but I don’t. Not visibly, at least.
“I don’t know what you think you saw, Matt,” I say, voice even. “I just do my job.”
