“Is there anything specific you’d like to share?”
I fucked the boss.
“No! Nothing.”
“It helps to let it all out. And remember, what happens in therapy, stays in therapy.”
God, it really is written all over my face. Do I have some jizz on it or something?
“Actually, I did something a bit reckless.” I pause. “I had a moment with the boss.” I clear my throat pointedly to indicate precisely what kind of moment we’re talking about.
She nods slowly, contemplating this new information. She doesn’t seem shocked. Should that offend me?
“How do you feel about him?”
I swallow hard. “I’m terrified. Terrified of getting hurt by someone like him.”
“Have you shared your concerns with him? Have you discussed where you both stand?”
I shake my head vehemently. “No, absolutely not. It was just a one-time thing.”
“Has anything similar happened before?”
“What? No! Absolutely not.”
Except… I wouldn’t remember if it had, would I?
I stare at Dr. Ramirez, a shiver of panic slithering down my spine. What if this wasn’t the first time? What if something happened with JP before that I don’t remember?
I hastily swat away the disturbing thought. That’s ridiculous. Why wouldn’t he tell me? No, this is a convenience thing for him, I’m right-place, right-time woman. The way JP acted in the elevator when I returned to work told me everything I needed to know.
And he has no reason to lie to me.
Right?
JP
Things are finally falling into place.
We’ve got solid results from the hackathon, a robust blueprint to transform the remaining casino amenities cashless.
I go through the data from the market research reports for the first wellness retreat. We’re keeping it quiet until I can prove I can make it a success. The data confirms there’s a market out there, I just have to execute it properly. I’m reviewing details with Killian and Connor later-another step toward my Vegas exit plan.
And then there’s Lucy. She leaves Bear Mountain today, but she’s let me back into her life. For the first time since her accident-hell, since our bitter breakup-I can taste the sweetness of happiness again.
I know I’m playing with fire by keeping our past from her. The deception eats at me, but I shove it aside. I tell myself this is for Lucy’s benefit while she recovers. But if I’m honest, it’s just as much for me. I miss her so damn much. I’ll do anything to keep her close, even if it means lying to her.
I’m well aware I’m treading on dangerous ground. I’ve deliberately turned a blind eye to the colossal elephant in the room-our shared past that she doesn’t remember. But eventually, the day will come when she uncovers our buried history and I’ll have some serious explaining to do.
It’s a risky gamble, getting involved again without coming clean. Lucy trusts me enough to open up and be vulnerable, and I’m deceiving her.
But I can’t think about that now.
Lucy
I’m plunger-deep in Spider’s toilet clog from hell; what a way to spend a Saturday afternoon. Since leaving Bear Mountain yesterday, I’ve been questioning if last week with JP was real or some kinky sex dream cooked up by my messed-up, amnesia-tortured mind.
If it was just a dream, then I’m all for it. It beats the recurring one I had again last night with Buddy the dog.
That’s the end of that. Let’s be honest. It was a temporary escape from reality, like when I indulged in that Daredevil roleplay at the comic convention.
Because the cold, hard truth is I’m a 27-year-old introverted graphic designer who, in some insane twist of fate, wound up in bed with her billionaire boss.
Now, back under the cold, judgmental glare of my less-than-luxurious apartment, paranoia has dug its claws into me, flourishing in my insecurities.
What happens if word gets out that I had a fling with JP? I can’t handle that kind of scandal.
I want to tell the girls so badly, but can I trust Libby with something like this? She’s always begging for gossip about Wolfe and the Quinn brothers, and until last week I was a useless source on that. But now?
Now I know the size of his monster dick.
And I know if I told her that she couldn’t tell anyone, she would have the best intentions not to gossip, but it might slip to a colleague when she’s on one of their raucous team nights out. Not in a malicious way, she just doesn’t remember what she’s not allowed to tell when she’s drunk. Drunk mouths speak sober thoughts, and all that.
I’ve been out with those media sharks before, tagging along with Libby, and those guys could get secrets out of a stone.
The jarring ringtone of my phone echoes through the tiny-ass bathroom, cutting into my downward spiral of thoughts.
I give the plunger a last shove with both hands and the blockage finally clears. Typical Spider.
Washing my hands, I grab my phone from beside the sink before it rings off. The screen reads “Real Estate Jackass Dave.”
“Hey, Dave. Any updates?” I ask, struggling not to sound desperate.
“Got something for you, Miss Walsh,” he bellows over the line.
Don’t get excited. He’s probably trying to sell you a timeshare in a Florida swamp.
“Somebody’s made an offer for your apartment. Full asking price.”
I stare at the plunger in disbelief. “You’re shitting me.”
His laughter crackles over the line, nearly as incredulous as I feel. “Hand on heart, Miss Walsh. It’s some company that wants it. I’ll shoot you the details in an email.”
Pulse thundering, I force out, “So, what’s the catch?”
“Legit offer. They’re ready to pay cash and wrap up the deal pronto.”
Dear God, don’t toy with me like this. I can’t handle the crash after this high.
I sink down onto the closed lid of the toilet seat, my whole body trembling. “Are you sure this isn’t a scam? How can I trust that this is for real?”
“They’re a reputable investment company. Based in the Caymans.”
“But why? Why do they want my apartment?”
Is it JP? No, that’s an insane thought. One doesn’t just sleep with someone and then buy their property.
Although, he is a billionaire.
Dave brushes it off. “Well, you know the drill. Real estate is usually a safe bet. They’re probably expanding their portfolio.”
Meaning he’s got no fucking clue.
His sigh drifts through the phone. “Do you want the damn offer or not, sweetheart?”
“Yes! Yes!” I can barely get the words out. I just don’t want them to change their minds. “Have they actually seen the apartment?”
“Doesn’t matter. If they’re stupid or rich enough to buy it without seeing it, we accept it.”
I slam the end call button and burst out of the bathroom with a primal scream that wouldn’t be out of place in Jurassic Park.
I break into a victory dance around the living room, all flailing limbs.
Spider pokes his head out of his room. “What’s the party for?” he asks, deciding to join my dance despite the confusion, nearly taking out the coffee table.
In a fit of sheer exuberance, I find myself lunging at him, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“What’s the party for?” he repeats, sounding somewhat muffled from my embrace.
“The place is sold!”
“What?”
I freeze. “Sorry, Spider. I’m selling the apartment.”
“You sold… wait, WHAT?”
The penny drops and his face crumples. “Ah, shit,” he hisses, storming back to his room.