Page 16 of Read My Lips

Mel couldn’t pin that on either of them.

“Oh, alright. That’s fine then.” Mel’s lips thinned like she was trying very hard not to go ballistic. “Do carry on. As you were.”

Not one person in the room fell for that invitation.

“Did you not read your contract?” Mel whipcracked away from brightness. “Perhaps you thought that little conflict of interest bit didn’t apply to you? Please, enlighten me Simon. You’re the best this agency has to offer. I did assume you understood how this game works.”

This wasn’t fair. There were two of them in that film. Richard would still be a millionaire with a mansion and advertising contracts running into the next decade, but Simon had to go under?

My knuckles stiffened. Her booming at him could be the last thing I interpreted for him.

Simon didn’t say a word. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

Oh, god.

PR, I’d thought. That’d be good. I wouldn’t be stuck doling out bad news all day. Not like interpreting medical appointments, or legal stuff. Just meetings. Just business. I wouldn’t have to blank off every personal reaction while I delivered wrecking ball after wrecking ball to people’s lives, and got thanked for it like I’d done something admirable instead of the bare fucking minimum.

But this was it. Her firing him.

And I was going to have to tell him.

Any minute a security guard would pop up to escort him from the building, and one of Mel’s pocket lawyers would slap him with a gag order and sue him for reputational damages to the company. And I’d have to tell him that too.

“I’m waiting.” Eyebrow arched, Mel tapped at the small round face of the watch on her wrist.

Why wasn’t he saying anything? If he said something clever, like he always did, she’d go with it. There had to be a thousand ways to spin this to make it better. But Simon’s smile switched off. Eyes down. Everyone shut out.

“No?” Mel shook her head, exhaling wearily like she’d wanted him to come up with a solution as much as I did. “How disappointing.”

He’d get dragged out of this room, and I’d never see him again. We didn’t meet up socially now – we weren’t going to start after I helped end his entire career. I wouldn’t want to see me either.

“Right.” Mel planted both hands on the table, centring herself as she blinked at the polished wooden top. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

Oh no. There had to be a way to fix this. It was only sex. It wasn’t even cheating.

Mel touched a fingertip to the bridge of her nose and flapped a perfectly manicured hand at him. “Get out of my sight. Pack your things from your desk.”

No no no.

“I expect you to⁠—”

“Itwasn’tRicharditwasME!” Shit. Fuck. Titwanking bollocks.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, snorting a bull-breath through my nose.

The clatter of Tracy’s typing stilled.

“You?” Mel’s laser focus pivoted full force towards me. “Not Richard?”

I gulped, barely holding my ground. Nodding – that thing where your head goes up and down. I could do that.

I did that. Instead of spontaneously committing harakiri. Gold star. Round of applause. Lifetime achievement award. What planet was I on?

Mel Booker smiled like a snake swallowing an egg. “Now this is something we can work with.”

Oh god. What was I thinking? It’d take a global warming induced ice age for anyone to look at me and Simon and think we made sense together.

Sev blinked, eyes exaggeratedly wide. “Really?”