Lag (The boys of RDA #2)(70)



“Trey’s given me his resignation.” Finn spits the words in our direction and I stop breathing waiting for Trey’s response.

“Trey?”

“It’s done, Simone. People will believe the hype from this article. It doesn’t matter what the truth is.”

“And if you leave the company it’s basically admitting her stories are true. I know the truth.” Finn looks to me. “Simone knows the truth and Aspen knows the truth. We’ll stand behind you.”

“It’s not enough,” Trey counters.

“Well I’m not taking your resignation, so find a way to deal with it.” Finn stands ready to go head to head with Trey. His strong presence only tampered by the Batman pajama pants he’s wearing.

“Finn, I’ve put the whole company in the spotlight. It’s a PR nightmare.” My head snaps back to Trey like I’m watching a tennis match between them.

Finn laughs at Trey’s forlorn words. “So, no one knows who we are. As much as you might think otherwise, no one knows who you are. No one cares about what we do. It’s gossip and it’ll pass.”

“He’s right, Trey. It will blow over when Mari can’t do anything else with it.” Aspen shares her agreement with Finn and I want to hug her for it.

Trey’s face is still edged with worry, but his body’s lost more of the tension from when we first entered the room. “Mari won't stop, though. She’ll keep going until she thinks she’s gotten her revenge.”

“Screw Mari.” Aspen pounds her own hand on an arm of the chair. “I say we send a copy of the article to her boss and see exactly what he thinks of her causing such a public scandal."

Trey sighs in defeat. “It just doesn’t seem right, Finn. I can’t come out and deny her claims and I can’t make my own because I won’t sink to her level. How are we supposed to battle this?”

Finn paces in the small area between Trey’s desk and the chairs. “We don’t. Seriously, Trey. Go home, come to work, but pretend like you haven't seen the article. She wants to engage you. She’s looking for a fight and for you to respond. Don’t give her the pleasure.”

The room is silent as we all keep Trey in our sight while he works through what’s been said. “I’m just so f*cking pissed. How dare she?" He grips the edge of his desk until his knuckles turn white.

“Papers suck. Nothing good ever comes from them. I’m never subscribing to one again,” Aspen says to the room at large.

Her outburst sends her and Finn into a chorus of laughter at whatever she said that was funny. It takes a few seconds, but then Trey joins them with a short chuckle of his own. I’m the only one who doesn’t see the humor in her words, and as my eyes float from each of them, Trey pats me on the shoulder.

“I’ll explain it later,” he promises.

Finn gains control of himself and sits again. “Trey, there wouldn’t be an RDA without you and if you leave, there probably won’t be one for much longer. You've shed blood and tears over this company. I’m not going to let you throw away your dream… our dream over one stupid newspaper article.”

“Fine, but—”

“No buts.” Finn stands again and slaps Trey on the arm. “Go home, spend the rest of the day with Sim, build a city or something."

Trey smiles at his statement, but once again I’m left clueless at what’s so funny.

“I for one am going upstairs to waste away my Sunday watching mindless television.” Aspen’s head rolls to the ceiling, but when Finn holds his hand out for her, she stands and they walk out of the office together.

Trey sighs again and my heart breaks a little. Even though it’s not my fault entirely, I’m the catalyst that started Mari’s crazy episode and I'm partially responsible for Trey’s distress.

“All right, Mari’s f*cked with our day enough. Do you want to go back to my place and hang low for the afternoon?”

“Sure.” I smile up at him and he looks a little calmer. I’m not gullible enough to believe the fallout from this is over, but at least Trey knows where we all stand.

“Where’s your coat?” he asks as he takes my hand.

I look to my left to try for some fake innocence. “Um, my apartment.”

We reach the employee entrance. He shakes his head at my lack of acceptable attire but doesn’t make me go upstairs to grab it. I laugh at his reaction and we push through the back door together to be blinded by the flashing of lights.

At least five people stand out on the back stoop with large cameras in front of their faces, the flashbulbs flickering. We both freeze and it opens the opportunity for the reporters to yell questions across the space.

“Trey, is this the secretary?”

Trey pulls me back into the building and waits until the door clicks in place. His tight closed fierce expression has me worried he’ll go back out and say something he’ll regret later. My hand raises to his jaw, and I place a soft kiss on his cheek. His extra-long stubble tickles my lips. His missed morning trim is probably a sign he read paper first thing. I’m starting to repeat the kiss when Trey lets out a large breath and opens his eyes.

“What about we spend the day at your place?”

**

“Do you think it’s too early for wine?” I call out from my small rectangular kitchen as Trey hooks the game system from the main office to my smaller flat screen TV.

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