Page 105 of A Bossy Roommate

It could be any of them.

I really hope it’s not Gretchen, even though some of the evidence points to her. She’s Huxley’s assistant. And I’d told her about my living situation with Carter. My shoulders fall. Oh, no.

Gretchen shakes her head, still in shock. “Okay, but I want to knowallthe details as soon as possible. How about lunch later?”

“Sorry, Gretchen, can’t,” I inform her, masking the dawning suspicion with a casual shrug. “I really need to get all this work done. I can text you when I have a second.”

“Don’t use the office messenger though, it’s been on the fritz.”

“Good to know. Weird. It was working fine yesterday.”

“Yeah, not sure what’s up. I’ve already called IT.”

“All right, thanks.”

“Now get back to work!” Affectionately, she shoots me a grin over her shoulder as she heads for the door.

Despite the intense situation, I attempt a smile. “I’m on it!”

I tryto take the advice and get back to work. However, it’s next to impossible to think of anything other than that meeting. About ten minutes after Gretchen leaves, Mr. Bernie enters the office lobby. I try to keep my cool and act professional. It’s difficult to be faced with one of the men who had fired Carter, but again, he’d stood up for me against the board, and without him, I would now be jobless.

“I am sorry you were dragged into this mess, Ms. Ryan.”

I immediately get up. “Sir, I need you to know that everything that was said about Mr. Bancroft was done to paint him in a bad light,” I say firmly. “I know I’ve only been here a short time, but he loves this company and has always put work before his own personal feelings or matters. Nothing that’s been happening lately is his fault.”

“I appreciate what you’re saying, but as I said previously, my hands are tied,” Mr. Bernie says firmly. “Other information has come to light that wasn’t mentioned in the meeting. We had no other choice. We had to let him go.”

“What information?” Probably some BS Huxley conjured up out of the blue.

“You don’t need to worry about that.”

“Yes, I do,” I insist. “I’m his assistant, I know his day-to-day better than anyone else. Whatever you think you know, I guarantee is wrong.”

I know I’m treading on thin ice, but what else am I supposed to do? I can’t sit here and be quiet while Carter’s good name is smeared.

“I appreciate your dedication to your former boss,” Bernie says, his tone taking on a sharpness that lets me know I’ve pushed my luck, and he doesn’t intend to explain himself any further. “Now, in the interim, Mr. Bradley Everhart is on his way from Connecticut and will be filling in Mr. Bancroft’s vacant position until further notice.”

That amazes me. Everyone knows Carter and Bradley are close associates. It confirms my suspicion that Mr. Bernie is taking advantage of the opportunity to discredit the allegations against Carter and bring him back.

“In the meantime,” he continues, “cancel all of Mr. Bancroft’s appointments and tell them you’ll be rescheduling at a later date. They don’t need to know just yet that Mr. Bancroft was let go. Am I understood?”

I bite my tongue. There are so many words I want to say to him, and if I had any evidence, I absolutely would. Instead, thinking about my self-imposed quest to redeem Carter, I swallow them down and nod. “Understood.”

He leaves after that, and all I can do is sit and stare at the computer screen.

Unsurprisingly, I have a challenging time getting much of anything done. I keep checking my phone on the off chance Carter has texted. He does, only to ask what I want for dinner. It’s such an innocent question yet speaks volumes. If I were in his shoes, dinner choices would be the last thing on my mind.

Mr. Everhart comesa few hours later. He walks through the glass double doors, talking to Mr. Bernie. They continue speaking as if I’m not there. “If you find anything out of the ordinary, compile it all, and we will go through it,” Mr. Bernie is telling him in a hushed voice.

“Understood.”

Mr. Bernie leaves, and Mr. Everhart sighs deeply as he turns to acknowledge me. “We’re a team here, and I want us to be on equal footing. No ‘sir’ or ‘Mr. Everhart.’ Just Bradley will do,” he offers. “Carter and I are friends, and I know about the fake marriage agreement.”

“You have to know that Carter is innocent,” I blurt without acknowledging anything else he said. “He would never do anything to jeopardize this company.”

“Trust me, I know that better than anyone. This is all bullshit—it has to be. The problem is, we need proof.”

I sigh with relief. “Thank God you see that. I don’t know why the board can’t.”

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