Page 96 of Feel It in the Air

Auggie nods to Carl, a silent signal that makes my heart plummet. Internally, I scramble, my defense crumbling before me by the second. Reaching into his pocket, Carl pulls out his tablet, tapping it to life, then turning it to face me. Filling the screen is a photo. One that takes my already plummeting heart and sends it straight through the floorboards.

In the dim glow of the church parking lot lights is Gus, his arms wrapped around me, my hands resting on the lapels of his coat. The angle of the photo shows our profiles perfectly, leaving no question that it’s us. My insides squeeze, remembering the moment. That kiss. The one that was over too quickly, but also completely told me that he was mine, and I was his. Right after he’d told me we were about to be able to stop sneaking around.

So much for that.

“We probably shouldn’t be showing you this,” Auggie says. “But, we know, and moreover, we know that you know that we know. Or something like that.”

That answers that question…

His voice is easy, even through the heaviness that I can see weighing on him. His thick Georgia accent is comforting though, something about the timbre of his voice putting me a little more at ease.

“I like you, Margeaux, a lot,” Percy adds. “I feel that you add a great deal of value to our department. However, we’ve been put in a tough spot. Trust me, this was not how I saw this meeting going this morning.”

“Meeting?” The question squeaks out of me unintentionally. An internal thought that was meant to stay that way, that somehow made its way outside.

Percy’s slow nod says it all.

“The allegation was made this morning, to me, by one of your colleagues.”

“Teresa…”

I have got to stop saying the inside thoughts out loud…

Percy nods again, this time Auggie joining in. I look to Carl, who quickly looks away, a guilty expression painted across his face. They all know. And they know that I know that they know. And they hate that we’re all here. Just like I do. At least we’re all in that boat together.

“So you don’t deny the relationship?” Carl asks carefully.

Sucking in a breath, I stretch my diaphragm, letting my lungs burn, just so that my heart won’t be the only part of me that hurts. I shake my head—there’s no use in denying it now. Even if I wanted to. Even if we were all willing to play dumb and look the other way. They have the fucking photo.

“Forgive me, I do have to ask,” he continues. “This has been an entirely consensual relationship, correct?”

I bark out a laugh, unsure on whose behalf I’m more insulted—mine or Gus’s. “Thank you for your concern, as artificial as it may be. Yes, everything about our relationship has been consensual. Do you know the man you work for? I’m pretty sure this is the first rule Gus has ever broken.”

“Second,” Carl mutters. “He got a speeding ticket in high school.”

“Third,” Percy counters. “He had Carly home after curfew once. But only once.”

Auggie fights a smile, shrugging slightly, as if he has nothing more to contribute to the list. I shake my head, my ire releasing slightly—but only slightly—not sure how I feel that the three men sent to reprimand me are clearly going through the motions because they have to. They certainly don’t seem to think this whole thing is a very big deal.

“All kidding aside,”—Percy clears his throat—“we are in a tough spot. In a normal circumstance I’m not sure that we could share this, but given your background, I know that you will understand. There’s been the threat of legal action.”

There’s been the threat of legal action…

He cannot be fucking serious.

That little…no, I’m not sinking to her level. I will save my choice words for a later date. Preferably one when I’m back in New Orleans and have found the highest Voodoo Priestess I can find to do her thing.

“Made that much more complicated by the fact that Gus is a Hayes,” Auggie continues. “The temporary nature of his overseeing the department adds to it as well, but what it all comes down to⁠—”

“We knowingly violated company policy,” I cut him off.

They nod.

I inhale deeply, holding my breath until my lungs burn some more. Suddenly, every inch of me wants to break down. To let loose. Rage. Cry. Break things. Put on a display that rivals the She-Hulk. But I know I can’t.

“What now?”

It’s the only logical question. Even though being logical is the last thing I want to be right now. Nope. I’m holding myself together with dental floss internally, my heart’s desire to take over gaining ground with each passing second.