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“I haven’t told anyone.”
“Don’t lie to me!”
“I’m not fucking lying!”
“Oh no,” I say, and I cover my mouth with a hand.
Mack turns his glare on me. “What?”
I stare at him, horrified. My heart shudders to a stop as I put two and two together and make fifteen. Holy fucking hell.
Elizabeth looks from me to him, then back again.
He blinks, and his expression softens a little. “What’s the matter?”
I lower my hand and clear my throat. I’m actually shaking. “Um… when I was in your office that night, cleaning, I found the invitation with the nomination in your rubbish bin. I took a photo of it and sent it to Socrates. It’s pretty much the only thing I found. But… Mack… that means…” I can’t bring myself to say it.
He stares at me. Then he gives a humorless laugh and runs both hands through his hair.
“What?” Elizabeth says.
He puts his hands back on his hips and blows out a breath. “Dan—Sidnie’s brother—told a guy at a nightclub that he was desperate for money, and this guy—who called himself Socrates—said he’d lend it to him if he did some work for him, namely, spying on me to find out about the new research. Dan told him he had no way of getting close to me, but that his sister did. He told Sidnie, and she agreed to look for information if this Socrates got her into the office.”
Elizabeth glances at me. “And you’re still dating her?”
I blush scarlet.
But Mack says, “She agreed to do it because her dad has cancer—prostate cancer, Elizabeth.”
“Oh, Jesus.” She folds her arms and stares at her feet.
“They couldn’t afford the private treatment—it was over a hundred thousand dollars.”
She closes her eyes. I frown. There’s something about her reaction that’s more than just regret.
“She admitted everything before we slept together,” he continues. “And I believed her. I still do. And that means that David is Socrates.”
“He actually mentioned the word the night of the Christmas party,” I murmur. “When I said I was mononymous, like Madonna, he said, ‘Or Socrates.’ I just didn’t think…” I stop speaking as Mack glares at me. Oh fuck. I’ve really screwed up.
He turns his laser-like stare back to Elizabeth. “Can you tell me honestly you’re not behind this?”
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t ask David to spy on me?”
She stares at him. “Why would I do that? You were doing the research for me. I’d already paid you for it.”
“Because if David had the technology, he could do future research in house, and it wouldn’t cost you anything. And he’d be the one getting nominated for awards and gaining all the glory.”
She goes completely white. “I’ve known you for ten years,” she whispers. “Do you honestly think I’d do that to you?”
“All’s fair in love, business, and tennis. Your words, Elizabeth.”
She swallows hard. “I didn’t do it. I wouldn’t. I swear.” She sits and puts her head in her hands. “I don’t believe this. That fucking arsehole.”
He looks at her for a moment, then he turns his glare on me.
I’m still shaking. I’m terrified—not of him, although he is intimidating when he’s furious. But I feel like I started all this, and it’s my fault. He’s just told me he’s in love with me, and then this happens.
