Page 72 of Big & Bossy

Until a potential client asked the question I’d been unable to stop thinking about.

“Congratulations on your engagement, by the way,” the man said, his height nearly meeting mine. He smirked at her as his eyes went to her left hand. “No ring today?”

“Oh,” she chuckled, flexing her fingers as she looked at the indent that hadn’t faded. “I must have forgotten to put it on this morning.”

“You don’t wear it to sleep?” I asked. There was more than a hint of irritation in my voice — I was too tired to conceal it, too stressed to try.

Her eyes narrowed as a blush spread across her cheeks. “I wouldn’t want to risk damaging something so expensive.”

“Are you sure that’s the reason?”

“We can talk about this later,” she hissed, turning back to the too-tall, too-attractive man in front of her. “I’m sorry. Let me get you my business card.”

“That’s, uh, that’s okay. It was nice to speak to you. I’ll see you around,” he said, giving her a tight smile as he stepped back into the crowd, disappearing in an instant. I knew it was wrong of me to feel relief but that didn’t stop the feeling of a breath of fresh air.

“Great. Thanks. You made me lose a client,” she grumbled. Her eyes scanned the crowd, already leaving me in the dust in her mind as she went silent again.

But I didn’t want to fucking deal with this anymore.

I grabbed her by the arm, her wide, angry eyes meeting mine in a second. “What are you doing?”

“We need to talk.” I gently pulled her toward me as I walked back toward the edge of the conference room. She went without question, thankfully not fighting me even though I fully expected her to. It felt like every second of silence as we found somewhere quiet and calm was stabbing me in every soft spot on my body, dragging its claws along the cuts and widening them. The little huff she gave as we settled against the wall only drove that home. “I know I fucked up. I’m fully aware. But the way you’re acting is like I did something unforgivable?—”

“Oh, I’m sorry, am I just supposed to brush off the fact that you beat the ever-living shit out of my friend?” she sneered, her teeth bared in a way I hadn’t seen from her in a long time. Her eyes went glassy as my stomach sank.

It hadn’t been that bad, had it?

“I can’t—I can’t speak to you about this, not here. This isn’t okay. This will never be okay,” she said. I could hear the venom in her voice, could feel it coating me, painting me in permanent ink. “You think this can be settled with text messages and voice notes? You think you can make things okay by paying for my coffee and showing up to a networking event?”

“No, of course not, but?—”

“But nothing,” she snapped, her voice rising just a little too loud before she brought it back down. “You can’t just do what you want, Jack. You can’t. He had to go to the hospital. I mean, he’s fine, but still. It’s not okay. We aren’t okay.”

We aren’t okay.

She turned, and without giving it a second thought, I grabbed her by the forearm, spinning her back to me. Her brows knit as she looked down at my hand, took in the scabs and the bruises along my knuckles.

“Mandy,” I breathed, trying to pull her just that single inch closer to me, but she stood her ground. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I’ll get on my goddamn knees, okay? I’ll beg. I’ll grovel. I don’t care. Just please, please see it from my side. You have to understand — he came at me. He invaded my space, he tried to stop me from leaving, he?—”

“It doesn’t matter,” she whispered, each word emphasized with anger.

“It does.” I pulled again, and she slipped from my grasp.

“Stop, Jackson.”

“I can’t. I don’t want to lose?—”

“You need to get yourself together and support me through this fucking event,” she said. No, no, no, no, this isn’t what I wanted. “You shouldn’t be so worked up over this.”

“How…?”

The grin that spread across her cheeks was less than reassuring. It was all teeth and brick walls, all anger and apathy. I felt like I could hardly breathe.

“Mandy—”

“It’s all fake, remember?”

No. It’s not.

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