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I was in the middle of walking away from Alec, but something about his words made me lift my chin and clench my teeth. I closed my eyes, willing myself not to bite, but I just couldn’t help it. In some roundabout way, I felt like he was talking about Pearl, and I didn’t like the tone of his voice.
“Work trip?” I asked, turning to face him. “One, I’m not your employee. I’m a contractor. A consultant. Two, inviting employees to a work conference for a week doesn’t give you autonomy over how they spend their time outside of work functions. Three, if you think my loyalty to your company is going to stop me from enjoying my girlfriend in my free time, you’re delusional.”
“Girlfriend. Right,” Alec said.
I didn’t like the slimy way he said it, or the narrowed suspicion in his eyes.
“Yeah, that is right,” I said. I wasn’t much for punching people in their dumb faces, but Alec was making a strong case for turning me into that guy.
“Well, you should get going. Your doting girlfriend is probably waiting. Assuming you even know where she is.”
I took a step closer to Alec, reminding him that I towered over him. Hell, if I was properly motivated, I thought I could’ve shot-put the little bastard through the nearest window without breaking a sweat. “What is it you’re trying to say? Maybe you should come out and say it plainly.”
“I’m saying there’s something strange between you two. Pollard Marketing doesn’t need the services of people who lie and keep secrets from their bosses. We need people we can trust. And I’m tired of someone who keeps secrets having so much influence over my–”
“Everything okay?” Maxwell had opened the door from the office and was standing there, eyes shifting between the two of us.
“I don’t know,” I said. “Is it, Alec?”
He glared, but nodded. “Just perfect. We were talking about the future.”
“Yeah. All good,” I said, leaving with my blood pumping.
I got in my car, still feeling irrationally pissed over the whole exchange. What the hell was all that, anyway? I knew Alec had his doubts, but I didn’t think he’d take it so far. Confronting me to my face and accusing me of that bullshit? The bullshit happened to be true, but that wasn’t the point. His implication that he might threaten Pearl’s job over this made me nearly put him through a wall, too.
Maybe I’d known we would both lose our jobs if the truth came out, but hearing the threat directly from his mouth made it more visceral. I needed to protect her, but I wasn’t sure how to do that exactly. It was enough to drive me fucking mad.
I punched the steering wheel, fuming in silence as my brain churned, thinking over everything I could imagine that might help get us out of this–to get her out of this.
34
DEAN
I headed to the Ashford Inn, hoping to find Pearl. I didn’t have a fully formed plan in my mind yet about what I wanted to do, exactly. I only knew the plan wasn’t going to be fun, but I needed to do whatever it took.
I ran into Pearl’s mom, who was talking to Harper Ashford in the lobby.
“Dean! Honey!” Pearl’s mom came over, hugging me tight before gesturing to Harper. “Harper is going to be cooking for our rehearsal dinner and the wedding. We were just going over some of her ideas about appetizers. What do you think? Would it be weird to have crab meat wontons if our main courses are French?”
“There’s no such thing as a weird time for crab meat wontons,” I said. “That’s my official stance.”
Her mom squeezed my arm, smiling up at me. “See? I knew Dean would settle it for us.”
Harper smiled. “Then it’s settled! Crab meat wontons.”
“Have either of you seen Pearl around?” I asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Harper said. “We were actually just talking to her like an hour ago. She said she was going to go into town and try to pick out a new dress for the rehearsal. She said the one she packed got something on it.”
“Great. Any idea which store she’d go to?”
“Probably the only one in town that sells that kind of stuff,” Harper said, grinning. “It’s called Tully’s Threads. You can walk there in a few minutes. Just go that way once you get outside and it’ll be on your right near the end of Main Street. Can’t miss it. The sign out front is a big spool of thread. Like the name. Tully’s–”
“Yeah, got it,” I said. “Thanks.”
I followed Harper’s directions. Sure enough, Tully’s Threads was on my right after a couple blocks. Inside, the place was small but cozy. Mannequins wearing formal dresses and gowns lined the windows and the walls were covered in dresses of every style imaginable. There was an older woman browsing tiny dresses for kids who I guessed were probably her grandkids.
