How to Fail at Flirting(65)

“Quite sure.”

“Oh well,” Davis said, jovially. “You still look just as young as you did back then.” He rested a heavy palm on my shoulder, and I bit back the instinct to knee him in the groin while pulling away, creating more space between us. “Shouldn’t we all be so lucky, right, Flip?”

The two exchanged a laugh, and my pulse beat in my ears. Great. Years of work to build up my reputation, and he makes me sound like an eighth grader with one comment.

When someone pulled the president’s attention from us, Davis leaned closer to me and whispered near my ear, “Did your legs look this good when you were following me around?”

His breath made my stomach churn.

I opened my mouth to respond, but he flicked his eyes over my body again and then back up to my face before I could. “We’ll catch up soon, pretty girl.” He winked, leaving me slack-jawed and feeling like I needed to shower.

“Flip, can I steal you for a minute?” Davis stepped around me and led President Lewis toward the door.

The older man paused and looked over his shoulder. “Dr. Turner, I know you wanted to tell me something. I’m late for a flight—please just email me.” He smiled and waved before leaving the room with Davis. I should have asked for a brief minute, or at the very least, I should have said something, but my voice had gone into hiding again, and I had no idea how to craft the email saying what I wanted to say. Maybe I’ll just wait until he’s back in the country and we can meet in person.





Thirty-four





When I escaped the room, a bead of sweat trickling down my back and no closer to admitting my relationship with Jake, I unlocked my phone to see two texts from Davis.

    Unknown: Good you aren’t asking questions. You’re much more appealing when you stay silent.

Unknown: Let me know if you need reminders on how to do that.



Pressing my lips together, I gripped the phone to my chest. No. No. No. No. Davis being involved in this project meant a whole new array of sharp objects was dangling precariously over me. He wouldn’t hesitate to suggest cuts to spite me or the things I cared about. Worse, if he ever found out about me and Jake, he’d try to destroy their company. I knew he would. Davis took any inch of power and control and stretched it to his advantage. He warped the truth and cornered people until they bent to him. I couldn’t let him corner Jake.



* * *





    “That goddamn, fucking, shit-eating motherfucker!” Felicia’s reaction was exactly what I needed to hear as I drove away from campus after the meeting, up to and including this string of expletives. This was a situation where I needed mutual outrage.

“Exactly.”

“Who does that? What is his deal? Does he have a small dick? It sounds like he has a small dick.”

I laughed, despite wanting to cry. “He’s definitely got something to prove.” I clenched the steering wheel. “Ugh, and the way he looked at me, Fel? I wanted to throw up.”

“What are you going to do?”

My frustration was a throbbing pressure point between my eyes. “I have no idea. The president said to email him, but I already have to tell the man I’m sleeping with one of the consultants. I don’t want to complain at the same time that the external committee member he hand selected is a lecherous creep. Oh, and someone who I also used to sleep with. I can’t put that all in writing, let alone dredge up everything from back then—I don’t think anyone would believe me. It’s been too long. They’ll think I should just be over it by now.”

“Nay, you’re not over it. Who cares about should be?”

I nodded, wishing she was right but also fighting back tears, because I could see people like Anita shaking their heads and telling me it was my fault. If I could put up with him on my own, I wouldn’t have to face more of their judgment. “No, it’s too late for that.”

“But if they knew about Davis and what he did—”

“I just have to deal with him. I did it before. I can do it again.” I hope.

Felicia’s silence spoke volumes. She disapproved of my solution. “Are you going to tell Jake?”

“No.” I didn’t want to chance him intervening and things getting worse, and I knew he would intervene. “I’m not telling anyone else.”

“You sure?” Felicia asked. “He should know, Nay.”

I’d managed this alone for so long, I didn’t know how to tell Jake. The idea of coming clean, sharing every shameful thing with him, turned my stomach. Telling him I was still allowing it to happen was out of the question. Felicia was right, but something held me back, some deep-seated urge to keep myself protected. “I’m sure.”

“Goddamn, fucking, shit-eating motherfucker,” Felicia muttered on the other end of the phone.





Thirty-five





Jake flew into Midway on Saturday night, and I greeted him with a sign reading “Captain Calculus.” It had been a few days since the meeting, and I willed myself to pack away the wild array of emotions I was feeling. That was a little easier the moment I saw Jake, and thirty minutes after stumbling through the door of my apartment, we huddled together, on the rug next to my couch.