Total pages in book: 151
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 140874 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 704(@200wpm)___ 563(@250wpm)___ 470(@300wpm)
He was right, and I wouldn’t argue with him.
Alice returned, sent by Brent, and hustled me to the conference room. She brought me coffee and a bagel that I hadn’t asked for, and apologized several times for “all this.”
I am the cause of “all this.”
The sunlight that lit the room washed over me as I stared out at the buildings across the street and the narrow sliver of the harbor I could still see from the other side of the office. My phone dinged and I checked it, my stomach clenching up.
Hey bish don’t 4get dresses at 5.
Oh god. Holli. I was supposed to give my input on bridesmaids’ dresses. She didn’t know what was about to happen.
If it happened… A ray of hope—nonsensical though it was—pierced my dread. Maybe it was all a misunderstanding. Maybe she’d been sent on some errand by Valerie.
My hope faded like the popularity of Uggs. As much as I relished thinking the worst of her most of the time, it was too big a leap of denial to think she would engage in spying or sabotage. She’d had a low opinion of me before she’d met me because of the ethically convoluted way I’d exited Porteras. She wouldn’t pull something like that.
Why had Deja been with Gabriella? Was she interviewing for a job at the new magazine? If so, who had approached whom? Maybe it was something about Holli. She’d appeared in Porteras before. Damn it, why hadn’t I thought of that? I doubted Deja was handling her bookings, though.
No matter what her reason, she’d broken a company policy that had been implemented specifically because of the mole situation Gabriella had caused.
Why did you tell? Scaife, you are such a fuck up.
I berated myself for a little over an hour, ignoring repeated texts from Holli until I could only reply, I’ll be there.
Though I was bored out of my skull waiting, Neil had been right; I had to know how everything turned out. As much as he could tell me, anyway. Neil wasn’t the kind of boss who’d break privacy rules to gossip. But I had to know what I’d done.
I was tired of all of this. Of running, of fucking up, of lying or trying to figure out who to trust. Doing the right thing sucked just as much as doing the wrong thing. And I was definitely tired of trying to do the right thing and just fucking up more.
It seemed like forever before the door opened and Neil stepped inside. He shut the door softly behind him, and the look on his face told me everything I needed to know.
“You didn’t have to fire her.” My voice quaked. “I know Deja. She wouldn’t have done anything—”
“It wasn’t up to me.” He stayed at the door, his hands behind his back. “We listened to her explanation, and I thought it sounded feasible… I can’t really go into details. But I promise you, Sophie, if there had been any other way—”
“The only other way was me just not telling you, and that has never gone well in the past.” Defeat and disappointment pulled at me like an invisible puppet string, sinking my chest and hunching my shoulders. “We should have picked a better restaurant.”
Neil held out his arm. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”
I followed him morosely back to his office, keenly aware that the eyes of most of the office were upon me. It wasn’t that they knew what had happened, they were merely curious about their boss’s fiancée. I wondered if there were any rumors about me.
“Come in, have a seat while I get my things,” Neil said gently.
It seemed like there should be something out of the norm, some sign that a momentous event had occurred. But it was just an office.
I sat in his desk chair and leaned my head on my folded arms like a tired kindergartener. I could have gone to sleep right there, I was so emotionally exhausted.
“What you need is a nice, relaxing night in,” Neil said, probably because he thought it was the right thing to say. It seemed like he had no idea how to make things better, so he was resigned to make them worse.
He didn’t have a clue how bad things really were. “I’m supposed to be picking out bridesmaids dresses with Holli in…forty minutes.”
“Oh dear.” It was the single most English expression he’d ever uttered in front of me, and I would have laughed if things hadn’t seemed so bleak. “Are you going to go?”
“If it’s still happening. I’m sure Deja has called her by now.” I was doomed to an awkward conversation in the very near future. “Although I’m pretty sure I’m off the bridesmaid list now.”
“Sophie… Deja doesn’t know it was you.” Neil’s eye contact never wavered. He was willing me to finish his thought, so he wouldn’t have to. “I told her that she’d been seen with Gabriella Winters at the restaurant, and she didn’t deny that they had discussed Deja’s job at Porteras. You needn’t ever tell Deja or Holli it was you who reported this.”