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When Kyle arrives, we tape cardboard to the open hole, all of us on edge wondering if the person responsible is still nearby, and then we dive into his car and he drives us to Laurie’s.
It’s not until I’m in her bed trying to sleep that I hear her and Kyle talking about it and what he says gives me the chills.
“The change was still in the cupholder.”
Which means either somebody wanted to randomly vandalize my car, or it was definitely Pax.
There are no gifts for me on my desk at work the next day either. Thank heavens. I’m also really late because I had to get the subway and I got off at the wrong station.
“Sorry I’m late!” I cry, pushing open the door to Mr. Conti’s office. “OH MY GOD!” My hands fly to my eyes after locking on to his for seconds longer than I should have allowed, and then I turn so sharply I walk straight into the edge of the closing door. Pain radiates through my temple and I fall onto my ass with a jarring thud as Mr. Conti pulls up his pants and does up his belt. I can hear him rattling. I’m not looking. I’ll never be able to look at him again. I just caught him plowing his wife from behind over his desk. Pants pushed down below his ass, her skirt up and over her hips.
“I thought you locked the door,” Mr. Conti hisses as I scramble to my feet and leave the office feeling dizzy and sore.
“I did,” Mrs. Conti replies, equally as quiet but I’m already out of there. “I should go.”
I bury my face in my arms on my desk, not daring to look up as she passes and calls for the elevator by rapidly pressing the button.
“Six plus six, times six, add six,” I mutter to myself, trying to remove the images from my head but I have photographic memory. They aren’t going anywhere.
The light flashes, he’s calling. I don’t answer.
It flashes again.
I stop being a coward and hold down the button, “Yes, Mr. Conti?”
“Can you come here for a second, please?”
“No, thank you.” I let go of the button and switch on my laptop.
What is this clenching feeling in my chest? Why am I so disturbed and upset by this? Why is my heart pounding and my stomach twisting? I don’t care that he’s fucking his wife. I’m just embarrassed. That’s all. I’m not jealous.
The light flashes again.
I press and hold the button again.
“Yes, Mr. Conti?”
“Come here.”
“Please don’t make me.”
“We’re all adults here, Rose. Get a grip and come here.”
“I disagree.” I release the button, knowing I’m being petulant but I’m irrationally angry with him.
The light flashes again.
I press it and snap, “What?”
“I said come here.”
I stand, smooth down my pants, ensure my shirt is tucked in nicely and then head into his room, my low heels clicking on the wooden floor.
Stepping inside, I mentally prepare myself for the chastisement I’m about to receive.
“You are two hours late for work,” he snaps, his sleeves rolled up his strong forearms, his ass resting on the edge of his desk closest to me. His ass that I just saw bare and from the side.
It was a nice ass.
Nope… not going there.
I stop less than two meters from him, my mind blank.
“Did you hear what I just said?” He clicks his fingers in front of my face.
“Don’t do that, I’m not a dog.” I push his hand away from me. “Yes, I heard you. I’m surprised you even noticed I was gone.”
His brows pull in and a flicker of something flashes in his eyes. “What happened? You’ve never been late before, nor have you ever switched off your phone.”
“Forget it,” I answer, glancing at the door behind me. “I have so much to catch up on.”
“Wait,” he grabs my arm and reaches for the hair at my temple. “You’re bru——”
“Don’t!” I yank my arm free and step away from him. “Don’t touch me. I know where your hands have been.”
He chuckles and wiggles his fingers at me. “I washed them, don’t worry. Let me look at your head.”
“Worry about your wife. I’m fine.”
He sounds surprised as he asks, “Are you mad at me?”
It does seem like I am, I can see why he’d think that but I’m not mad, not at him, not on purpose. “I’m just having a really shit day, Mr. Conti.”
“Tell me about it.”
“I have so much to do.”
He grabs my arm again, ignoring my protests and pulls me to the leather sofa. “Sit, talk, I’ll listen.”
I fold my arms over my chest, unable to look at him right now because all I can see is his face contorted, eyes squeezed shut, ass clenched and…
I squirm in my seat, trying not to think of how he gripped her hip with his large hand. The same hand pulling my hair back again.
