Scandalized(10)

“He lost his job because he got caught stealing company clients for his own freelance business and undercutting his firm’s rates. But he never told me. He kept leaving every morning, dressed for work, and coming home every night feigning exhaustion. He made up stories about drama between coworkers, gripes and promotions that I totally believed. Slowly drained his savings until he had nothing, then started dipping into mine.”

Alec goes still. “And your friends took his side?”

“He’s very charismatic,” I explain. Spence’s eye-crinkling smile appears in my thoughts, his infectious laugh echoes in my ears, and I feel the familiar urge to climb out of my own skin. “The quintessential good guy, you know? I’m sure he gave them a bunch of shiny half-truths, made himself out to be the victim. I cut him out completely; they didn’t. But they weren’t living with him. He wasn’t lying to their faces every morning and every night. I guess it was easier for them to find sympathy.”

“How did you find out?”

“I realized something was off when my bank statements seemed low. I followed him to work. He was going to the park and sleeping. At home, while I slept, he was up all night gambling, trying to make money.”

Alec laughs incredulously. “Is that a thing?”

“Not the way Spencer was doing it.”

He laughs again, but this time it turns sympathetic at the tail end. “I’m sorry, Georgia.”

“Yeah.” I finish my wine and nod when he signals for another round. “It sucked.”

I watch his neck when he downs the last sip of his whiskey. His throat is long, his jaw so sharp I want to sink my teeth into the pulse point just below it. “What about you?”

“Not married.” He scratches his cheek. “Not dating anyone at the moment.”

“That seems…” I’m not sure how to finish the sentence. What I want to say is that it seems like a goddamn tragedy for women. Or men. Or all of humankind. Balance in the world seems like it should depend on people who look like Alec Kim getting laid regularly. “Hm.”

“What’s ‘hm’?”

“A bummer,” I say as wine and fatigue suddenly settle like a narcotic in my blood. “You’re a hot guy. You should be dating.”

“You’re a beautiful woman. You shouldn’t be lied to.”

Thank God it’s dark in here, because I’m sure I’m blushing like a maniac. “Thanks.”

“And anyway, it’s hard for me to date.” He pauses, going still like he’s taken an impulsive step down a hallway he isn’t sure he’s supposed to explore. “I’m under a lot of”—he stops again before settling on—“professional pressure.”

“That sounds deeply intriguing, Alec.”

“It’s not. Or maybe it is.” He waves this away. “But for once I don’t feel like talking about work. It’s all I’ll be doing for the next two weeks.”

“Fair enough.” I raise my glass when the fresh ones are delivered. “No work talk then.”

He nods firmly. “No work talk.”

“No ex talk, either.”

Alec laughs. “Agreed, no more ex talk.” He stares at me. “And what else is there?”

“Hobbies?”

“Hobbies. Sure.”

“Do you still skateboard?” I joke.

His face goes flat in disbelief. “Really?”

Laughing, I say, “Remember, you used to skateboard all the time down your street?” I definitely remember. I would sit on the sofa by their front window, ostensibly doing my homework with Sunny but really watching Alec and his trio of friends do ollies and kick flips and pop shoves over, and over, and over.

“Oh, I remember.” He laughs again and shakes his head. I feel like I’m missing something. “You’re a trip.”

And then Alec studies me in that gentle calculating way of his.

“What?” I ask after a long ten seconds of hyperaware silence.

“I think it’s because I’m tired,” he says, blinking to clear his trance. “And have had a drink—now another—on an empty stomach.”

I wait for the rest of it. “You think what is because you’re tired?” I finally ask.

“I remember you as this sweet, scrawny kid. Not this…” He gestures to my body, and I don’t miss the way his eyes trip over my breasts. “Woman.”

“I already said I’d sleep upstairs; you don’t have to seduce me.” I expect him to laugh or backtrack, explain in his polite way that no, no, he only meant it’s surreal to see someone after so long. But he doesn’t say that. He gazes at me patiently.

I blink down at my glass, bringing it to my lips. “But seriously, Alec. If I’m going to your room, I insist on using the pullout.” My eyes go wide. “The sofa bed, I mean.” I bark out a laugh. “Oh my God.”

Alec fights a smile. “Does that mean what I think it means?”

“Strike it from the record.”

“I can’t.” He grins. “It’s already out there.”

I bend, burying my face in my arms.

“It’s great.” Alec laughs. “Honestly, it’s refreshing.”