Not Safe for Work(93)

My stomach plummeted at the thought of him finding out. “Oh no. Absolutely not.”

She gnawed her lip. “I can’t decide if that’s good or bad. I mean, on one hand, you want to be honest with the guy. On the other…”

“Yeah.” I rubbed the bridge of my nose. “Fuck. If we were just wrapping up a project or two with his company, I might be able to suck it up for a little while. We’re looking at years of Mitchell & Forsyth and Horizon Developing working together, though.” I dropped my hand and sat up a bit, stretching my back as all the muscles tried to knot up at once. “And the thing is, I’ve seen how court cases can play out. Even if the law’s on my side, the judicial system might not be. Just the process of taking them to court could bankrupt me. That’s part of why my ex-wife is living with me. Her * ex did everything he could to drag it all out until she’d lost almost everything.”

“Unless you find someone who’ll do it pro bono.”

“There’s that.” I rested my elbow on the table and chewed my thumbnail. “Even then, I could lose. This could drag out for months, and I’ll be f*cked for a job during that time.”

“Which isn’t good when your prospects are already sketchy.”

“Exactly. The good ol’ boys talk, and I might be a bit hard-pressed to find another firm in this town that’ll hire a modeler who’s creeping up on fifty and just sued another firm because of a situation involving him having sex with a high-powered client.” Jesus. Just thinking about all this was exhausting. “So yeah, I could take the firm to court and get them in the balls, but what will happen to me? And everyone else who works with us?”

Teagan nodded. “Yeah, I hear ya. There’s no easy solution, that’s for sure.” With a cautious grin, she added, “Kind of ironic that a firm run by homophobes is making one of their employees sleep with a client. Who’s f*cking who up the ass, you know?”

I laughed, though it took some work. “Anyone ever tell you what a classy f*cking broad you are?”

“Nope.” She sipped her drink. “And I don’t imagine you’re going to start, are you?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“That’s what I thought.”

I scrubbed both hands over my face, and then let them drop into my lap. “So, I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

“I wish I had some advice for you.”

“It’s okay. Just having someone to talk to helps.”

“You know I’m here any time you need it.”

“I know. Thanks.”

Our eyes met across the table, and we both managed small smiles.

She looked at her watch and sighed. “Guess we should get back to the salt mine.”

I nodded. “Yeah, we should.” As we stood and headed for the door, I hesitated. “T, promise me something.”

She turned around. “Sure, what?”

“You can’t breathe a word of this to anyone.”

“I told you I wouldn’t.”

“I know. You did. And I—” I shook my head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

“No, I get it.” She touched my arm. “Not a word to anyone. I promise.”

“Thank you.”

“But if Cal’s mom asks, I—”

“Shut up.” I laughed and nudged her toward the door. “Come on. Let’s get back to work before they have a real reason to fire us both.”

“Eh, I’m not worried.” She pulled open the door and gestured for me to go ahead. “I’ll just blame you.”

“Yeah, you would.”

“Absolutely.”





Chapter Thirty


“Still tired?” Rick eyed me over the granite-topped island in his kitchen.

I absently swirled my barely touched glass of wine. “Is it that obvious?”

“To me it is.” He tilted his head. “You seemed like you were doing better. But now…” His brow pinched with palpable concern.

“I know.” I scrubbed my hand over my face. “I…”

“Come on.” He came around the island and slipped his hand around my elbow. “Let’s go sit in the living room. Take a load off.”

Wordlessly, I followed him, and we sat on his giant, plush couch. I set my wine on a coaster and leaned forward, elbows on my knees as I kneaded my temples.

Rick rubbed his hands over my shoulders. “Is there anything I can do?”

I lifted my head enough to meet his gaze, and despite the sick feeling in my gut, I smiled. “You’re already doing it.”

He smiled back, though his eyes didn’t really echo it. “I’m worried about you.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Will you?”

I swallowed. How do I prove it to you?

How to do I lie to you?

“Give me a few more days.” I sat up and moved closer to him. Wrapping my arm around him, I added, “Then we’ll be back to burning up the sheets again. But for the moment…” I drew him in, pressed my lips to his and hoped like hell he believed me.

If his kiss was any indication, he did. His lips parted for me, and he pulled in a sharp breath through his nose as he pulled me to him. Well, this much I could do. His soft lips, the faint sweetness of wine on his tongue—what wasn’t to love?