Chapter 8
I woke up in my own bed.
Bryan had brought me home, tucked me in, and even removed my makeup before he left.
Thinking back on last night, I couldn’t help but feel a little frustrated with myself. For the sake of my pride, I guess I’d have to let this golden opportunity slip away. Maybe it just wasn’t meant to be.
That’s what I kept telling myself—until Monday morning when I saw the new boss walk into the conference room.
Bryan showed up in a crisp shirt, a tailored trench coat, and perfectly pressed slacks. He looked tall, confident, and every bit the boss. With a friendly smile, he said, “Looking forward to working with everyone.”
No wonder we hit it off right away. Turns out, we’re grazing in the same field.
One of the office gossip pros leaned over and whispered, “I heard he’s got connections way up high!”
Honestly, gossip like that doesn’t do much for me. I just nodded and answered with the usual polite hums.
But she wasn’t about to give up. “Just wait, I’ll find out something good for you!”
She spent the whole morning digging for dirt and finally came back with a few details. “He went to Harvard, grew up in the north, just like you. His parents both work in the public sector.”
I’d already seen all that in his HR file.\
She caught my look and got defensive. “Don’t look at me like that! I’m not giving up–I’ll get you something better.”
Her next round of snooping ended with Bryan cornering me in the break room. “I hear you’ve been asking about me?” he said.”
I nearly spilled my coffee all over him.
“If you want to know anything, you can just ask,” he said, totally unfazed.
I forced a laugh. “No, it’s nothing like that.“}
He grinned and leaned in a little. “If you’re too shy, you can always invite me to dinner instead.“}
I was about to refuse, but then I remembered–he’s technically my boss, a half–step above me. The last thing I needed was to get on his bad side.! So, I said yes.
As the day wound down, my gossip–loving coworker sidled up to my desk, practically bouncing with excitement. Her whole face said, “Ask me! Come on, ask!” I gave in with a sigh. “So, did you find out if Bryan stands or sits when he pees?“>
She rolled her eyes. “Please, give me some credit.”
“I found out he only transferred here because of his fiancée!”
She deflated a little. “Okay, maybe that’s not so juicy. You’re not even surprised, are you? I mean, look at him–handsome, great job… there’s no way he’s single–Hey! Where are you going? I’m not finished!”
Before dinner, I redid my makeup. Not the so–called “natural” look that takes an hour and a half to pull off. This time, I went with something inspired by a celebrity–something I’d practiced and knew suited my face.
Just as I was about to head out, my phone rang. The screen lit up with “Husband.” Dean.”
Dean hardly ever called me. Even when I was out at business dinners past ten, he never checked in. Not so much as a text.
I declined the call and messaged him: [Heading out. If you need something, just text me.]
By the time I got in the car, there was still nothing from Dean.
I hesitated, then sent another message: [Is there something in the divorce agreement you’re not happy with?]
This time, the message bounced back with a little red exclamation mark.
He’d blocked me
On autopilot, my finger tapped into his social media. His profile was public, so I could still see everything.
His latest post was a screenshot of Erica’s feed. Erica had posted: You are my invincible summer.] The photo was from years ago–a summer night at the beach, two silhouettes. The girl with long hair spinning, the tall guy holding her waist, steadying her
Dean had reposted it and captioned: (No need for introductions, everyone knows her.
Clearly, Erica was the one with the words.
