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“Then answer me this. If these rumours are true, how did you keep hold of your job?”
Glancing at her over my cup, I said, “Richard. He knows the truth, but he said as long as I don't actually tell him, he won’t fire me.”
I took a sip of the hot, sweet tea, even though my shaking hands threatened to jolt it all over me. The taste was comforting, even if the atmosphere wasn’t.
“I can't pretend the idea of you and McCoy doesn't make me feel a bit … sick,” Freya said. “Or that I’m not completely shocked that you slept with him. Because I am.”
“Well, that makes two of us. It makes me feel a bit sick too.”
“Was I even right?” she asked, dryly.
“About what?”
“Did he call out his own name when he reached orgasm?”
I stared at her for a moment, in shock but as her words registered in my brain, we both burst out laughing. The tension drained away and I knew everything would be okay between us. I was relieved she’d chosen to stand by me instead of grilling me about it. The questions were there behind her eyes, but she chose to let them be.
My morning was … interesting to say the least. I stayed in my office as much as possible, only venturing out when I really had to. It seemed as though almost everyone had heard the rumours. Nobody said anything, but I got some unusually hostile glares, mostly from the small amount of female staff members and the guys who were closest to Miguel. Presumably they’d realised my alibi for McCoy and my break-up with Miguel were linked in a way that made me as much of a bad guy as Taylor. Her accusation had brought the whole team to a halt. Richard had allowed Jesse to take a few days off to cope with the shock, and there seemed to be a respectful silence amongst the team for him and what he was going through. Their show of support warmed my heart, but not a single ounce of compassion was directed at me, even though my confession had stopped Taylor ruining the career of their number one player.
By lunchtime, I was frazzled from it all but Freya and Will dragged me to the restaurant with them. Well, Freya dragged me. Will couldn't have cared less whether I was there or not.
“Jesus,” I said after ten minutes of awkward silence, “can one of you please say something? The silence is driving me mad!”
“Sorry,” Freya said. “It’s … this is a weird day.”
“No kidding. Apparently, sleeping with McCoy makes me a slut of the highest degree.”
“You say that like it surprises you,” Will muttered, not looking up from his food.
Both Freya and I stared at him. He’d hardly spoken a word to me all day, which I understood, but implying I was a slut? I felt like I’d been slapped.
“What did you expect?” Will asked. “You're the latest gossip.”
“Nobody even knows the full story.”
“Sounds like they do.”
“Will, cut it out,” Freya told him. “Everything they’re saying is based purely on speculation.”
“Doesn't change the fact that it's true.”
“What's it to you anyway?”
“Miguel is my friend.”
“In that case, don't you think it might be better for you to
try and stop the gossip instead of fuelling it? You may be enjoying that Leah is getting hurt by all this, but Miguel is too. If you cared about him you'd tell them to keep their mouths shut!”
Will looked at her through narrowed eyes. “I can't believe you're okay with all this.”
“I don't agree with Leah's decision, but I'm not judgmental enough to stop being her friend.”
“Freya. She slept with Radleigh McCoy.”
“Stop talking about me as if I'm not here!” I snapped. “I made a mistake, okay? Will, if you can't deal with it, that's fine, but treating me like I’ve murdered someone is not going to take it back!”
I stood up and strode out of the restaurant, keen to get as far away from Will as possible until he’d calmed down. If he calmed down. In my rush to reach the sanctuary of my office, I wasn't paying attention to where I was going and I collided forcefully with someone on the stairs.
