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I smile sweetly. “Actually, thanks to a misstep from your department—that I didn’t bring major notice to—Joslin extended that deadline to next week and Parsons already approved. You must have missed that email, just like you forgot to include the data breach protection to the file you sent through the test run.”
His mouth opens and closes like a fish, and I shoo him away with my hand. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”
He mutters something unintelligible on his way out, and I log into my computer.
Serves that fucker right for coming in here and trying to catch me slipping up. I’d never rub someone else’s shortcomings in their face normally, but he asked for it when he tried to do the same to me.
Speaking of fucker… I still had plenty of thoughts aboutmyfucker and our shared dinner. Just yesterday, I was content to have him as my booty call, and now we are officially dating? I don’t understand how that happened so quickly.
Me: Bentley asked me to be his girlfriend last night.
I send the text to Ella and Piper, hoping they’ll have some insight.
Ella: Congrats! I told you he seemed like a nice guy.
Piper: Did you tell him yes?
I laugh at Piper’s response. She knows me so well.
Me: I did.
Piper: And how do you feel about that?
And there’s the golden question.
Me: I don’t know. I thought one thing and then he completely threw a curve ball at me.
Ella: Take a lesson from my book. There’s nothing wrong with just seeing how things work out. Don’t overthink whatever happened last night. If you were intending to keep fucking him anyway, what’s the difference?
My knee bounces rapidly as I try to find an answer. If I thought I could have kept screwing Bentley and not have grown more feelings for him, I was out of my mind. Ella is right. There’s not much different, except now things are just a bit more official.
Piper: Holy shit. Google Bentley Abbott. Right. Now.
A video call starts in group chat, and I ignore it until I do as Piper asked. Well, demanded.
Fucking fuck.
My face is on Google. With Bentley. At that restaurant last night.
How? Why? When?
I’m sitting there, smiling at Bentley, and the way he’s gazing at me hits me right in the chest. How did I miss that intensity during dinner?
I finally answer the video call, but I’m speechless.
“Did you know someone was taking pictures of you?” Ella asks as soon as my face appears on the screen.
I shake my head. “There were celebrities there. We thought the paparazzi was just paying attention to them.”
Piper whistles. “I knew Bentley was rich from what you’d told me, but damn, Kenz. His family is huge in the business world in New York. No wonder they took interest. These pictures were posted in a magazine up there.”
Shit. I wonder if Bentley knew. And if he did, did he care? Would this upset him? Maybe I shouldn’t say anything. He’s always been private, and honestly, there’s nothing wrong with the picture. We’re just having dinner.
Ella bites her lip. “Check out the article.”
A couple clicks later, some cheeseball slander site pops up. It takes closing out of three ads before I can see what they wrote.
Lost Prodigal Son Resurfaces in North Carolina
