Page 119 of A Bossy Roommate

“So what happens now?” I ask him.

“Now I have to take all of this to the board,” Bradley says. “I already called an emergency meeting which, I have to say, was a baller move on my account. You should have seen the look on Bernie’s face when I told him.” He chuckles. “Damn. Huxley has no idea we’re onto him yet.”

Other than relief, I’m not sure what else I feel about everything Bradley has uncovered. I have no idea what any of the information will change. I highly doubt the board will hire me back, and if they do, will I accept? Not likely. At the very least, I’m willing to wait and hear them out. If they have any shred of decency, they’ll let Bradley present his case.

“Seriously, Bradley,” I say, “this means a lot. Thanks for having my back.”

“Anytime, bro. I’ll let you know how the meeting goes. I wouldn’t have uncovered half this stuff if it weren’t for Eden.”

“I’ll let her know. Talk to you later, bro.”

“Later, Carr.”

We end the call.

A storm of emotions rolls through me, and I’m having a difficult time keeping track of them. Part of me hadn’t expected them to uncover the truth. I thought it was too much to hope for. And yet, they have. They’re actually going to be able to clear my name.

“Eden,” I call toward the bathroom. “Good news.”

34

EDEN

“It wasn’t Gretchen. It was Gwen,” Carter says as soon as I open the bathroom door, drying my hands.

I stare at him blankly. “What?No.”

He gestures for me to sit back down, and I do. “Yeah. Bradley and IT found proof on Huxley. Gwen was his helping hand. Huxley paid her big bonuses for her side gig. Bradley explained the whole thing, how she stole my black book, saw us on my motorcycle on the day we took Auntie out to lunch and started to become suspicious. Gretchen helped him to gather all the evidence this evening. Bradley told me you were the one who got him on the right track, so if it hadn’t been for you, we might have never known.”

I can’t believe it. Gwen?

The kind, inconspicuous Gwen was in cahoots with Huxley?

“But…” The words die in my throat. He’s looking at me with such amusement and even admiration, it startles me enough to start laugh-crying. My brain is working overtime, thinking of everything that happened. More and more things start to fall into place. Gwen’s hair has a honey-blonde hue, and she, too, wears glasses, just like Gretchen! As front deskmanager, she would have the necessary access, the contacts, and the possibilities to perform certain duties without raising any suspicions. On top of that, she’s good friends with all the assistants of the top dogs. Why had I never thought of her?

Poor Gretchen. I feel bad for even accusing her. But then I let out a sigh of relief—never in my life have I been happier in knowing that I hadn’t mistakenly accused her directly to her face, sparing us both any unnecessary discomfort or awkwardness.

Carter rubs my arms comfortingly, and then wipes the new tears softly away with his knuckles. Luckily, I hadn’t gone for a fresh round of mascara just before this. Dealing with those stubborn black stains is already enough of a battle.

“Carter, I didn’t have Gwen on my radar, at all. She, too, has bright hair and wears glasses. When I talked to Hattie, and she confirmed that the woman who asked about us fit Gretchen’s description, I didn’t even consider anybody else. I just put the obvious one and one together without even questioning it properly.”

“That’s the gossip game for you. It twists and turns, and takes on a life of its own. That’s why I prefer to operate on facts and facts only. But I’m glad we figured it out.”

“What’s going to happen with Huxley?”

“There will be a board meeting soon. Tomorrow evening, most likely. Or the day after.”

“So you’re going to get your job back?”

“You know, at this point, I don’t want to rush things. Let’s wait and see what happens. I might have other plans I want to talk to you about.” His face lights up, his eyes falling to the small ring box he’s still holding in his hand. “But now is not the time or place to delve into such matters and risk derailing the current discussion.”

“But wait. It’s still my fault that Gwen saw us on your motorcycle. I asked you to give me a ride instead of driving with your aunt.”

“Hush. Eden, look at me. It’s nobody’s fault. Shit happens. Sometimes it’s not just regular ‘shit happens,’ but more like ‘mega shit happens.’”

I snort out loud.

He places the ring box next to him, tilts my chin up with his fingers and forces my eyes to meet his, which I have subconsciously been avoiding for the last few seconds. “If anything, it’s my fault for leaving my black book lying around—no, for involving you in the fake-marriage scenario in the first place.”

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