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Then I hear Walter in my ear. "Tell her you were looking for an earring that you lost; she'll believe that," he says.
"I was just looking for an earring that I must've dropped," I say.
Cheryl raises one skeptical eyebrow. "You dropped an earring? Here, in Ethan’s office?”
"That's right," I say. "Well, I'm not sure if it was in here, per say. It could be somewhere else, but I just wanted to make sure."
"And why would it be in here?" Cheryl asks. "Or maybe the better question is, why would you have ever needed to be in here? To say the earring might be here is to imply you've spent time here. Only our developers come in here."
"Oh I—uh—I was taking a tour of the place the other day," I say.
"In here?"
“Well, Ethan and I…” I trail off.
Cheryl looks at me. “Ethan and you, what?”
I roll my eyes as if asking her if she really needs me to spell out the fact that we were fucking.
“Right,” Cheryl says after a minute. “You fucked him.”
“Or he fucked me, you know?” I say, giving her some sass. “It was kind of mutual.”
“Do you always sleep with your clients?” Cheryl asks me.
“It’s been my philosophy to get to know someone since high school,” I tell her sweetly as she raises her eyebrows at me. Fuck her. Interrogating me and shit.
"Did you just so happen to develop that philosophy at … say … Man Chasers LLC?" she asks.
When she says this I'm floored. How did she know that? And I'm sure that shock is written all over my face.
"What are you talking about?"
"Oh come on Brittney," she says. "Do you think I don't know? I know all about your business."
"This has nothing to do with my business," I say. There's no use lying and trying to tell her that Man Chaser's LLC doesn't exist. She obviously knows all about it. I have to just go with it.
"I hope not," she says.
"Being an actress for Illicit Entertainment has nothing to do with my previous work," I say, confirming my stance.
"For your sake, I hope you're right," Cheryl says. Her gaze has intensified. "Because if you try to pull something here, you'll regret it. That much I can promise."
I've honestly never heard this tone from Cheryl before and it catches me off guard. Our encounters, up till this point, have been cordial.
I mean, I'm now in a hard place. I'm standing here—just moments from being caught, and I have stolen data on a USB drive hidden inside of my thong. I hid it there right when Cheryl came in. This is an act that can land me in jail.
"This has gotten blown way out of proportion," I say. "I was just searching for an earring. I promise."
Cheryl doesn't say anything further, and instead gives me one last icy stare before turning on her heels and walking back out the door. I also leave. My heart is pounding, and I need to get as far away from this place as possible.
"Well that was close," I hear Walter say in my earpiece. He heard that entire conve
rsation, but I nearly forgot he was there.
I whisper back, in a tone that's barely audible so that no one else can hear me, "Yeah, too fucking close for comfort."
I find my things—my change of clothes, and my purse. I pull my cell phone from my purse to check and see if I have any messages, and as I'm scrolling through, a new text message chimes in.
