After my lunch with Hugo, I begin to ignore Miles’s calls and texts. Since meeting him the other night, I haven’t always known what to say. I would respond to his messages with simple replies or cute smiley faces. He’s been busy so that’s helped me from divulging too much before I was ready.But now
“Not a bedroom,” I say at once.Miles’s face goes carefully blank.Cynthia raises both of her brows. “Uh, oh. Okay. You guys stay here then. I’ll go read in my bedroom.” Grabbing her wine glass, Cynthia pushes herself up onto her feet and exits the kitchen.The instant she leaves the room, Miles wal
Next morning at work, I feel like a zombie. I slept last night, finally, though it was more a collapse out of necessity than anything restful. I certainly don’t feel rested this morning, dragging my sluggish body through the office doors and to my cubicle.After flopping down into my desk chair, I e
“I… uh…” I begin, somewhat flabbergasted.Paige, who in part, has seemed to witness this exchange, hurries to my defense.“Mrs. George! I would be happy to refill your champagne for you.” Paige reaches for the glass, but Mrs. George pulls it back from her grasp. “Your glass, ma’am. Please.”“I want
The proposition strikes me like a slap to the face. Never in my wildest dreams, in all of my dealings with Mr. George in the past, would I have considered that he would corner me in a women’s restroom and try to blackmail me for sex, yet here we are.“I’m not interested,” I say firmly. “I never will
“That flimsy piece of paper could land you in jail,” I tell her.“There’s no need for that,” Amber says. “I just want to talk.”“What is there to talk about?” I ask. “You’ve won. Miles and I are nothing to each other anymore. Please just leave me alone.”Amber crosses her arms. “This isn’t the end.
I stumble backwards, trip over my own feet, and flop down onto the bed. At least, blessedly, the venetian blinds snapped closed again, hiding away this room from the outside. And the outside from this room.“Mommy…” Iris starts, bottom lip wobbling, tears in her eyes.“It’s okay, honey. It’s okay. I
When I look, I can see why.There is live footage from in front of our house. The house we are in right now. From this vantage point, we can see swarms of reporters and photographers on our lawn. Some are even circling around the house.“Are the doors locked?” I ask.“I’ll check,” Garnar says, turni