Page 108 of When Glitter Meets Gold

No point denying it now.

“Thanks,” I say. This new side of him, that appears to care about the preservation of my dignity, is somewhat endearing. “Hey, I wasn’t going to say anything, but I need to tell you something about Drew…” I sigh as the mention of his name is accompanied by a wave of nausea.

“I mean sure, but shouldn’t we be focusing on Kandi?” Francis snorts before his lips curl into a cunning grin. “You know she left earlier, which means she knows we’re onto her. Which also means that we were rightandthat we make an excellent detective duo. That sneaky ass bitch leaked those files to get you fired, but not on our watch.”

A foreign air surrounds us. It’s something new and unexplored and leaves me fumbling for a response. It’s taken a long time for Francis and I to have a conversation that doesn’t involve bickering or eye rolling or only doing something for the other because the benefits are purely selfish. Whatever this moment is, it feels pivotal. Like it could be the start of something not entirely awful.

“Kandi’s…innocent.” The word comes out like a sour sensation penetrating every tastebud. “I mean, it wasn’t her.”

Francis pinches the frame of his glasses, pulling themhalfway down his nose to glare at me over the rim. “What is wrong with you? Did you just useKandiandinnocentin the same sentence?” Then an eyebrow arches into his hairline as he leans toward me and whispers from the corner of his mouth, “Isn’t it a little early for the psychedelics.”

“I’m not on drugs, Francis,” I say forcing back the urge to roll my eyes. “I’m trying to tell you that it was Drew who leaked the files, and Drew who took my promotion.” My shoulders sag. “Drew who could have cost me my job.”

Francis clutches his martini glass while placing his other hand at the side of his head, eyes pinned shut like he’s dealing with a two-day hangover. “He got the marketing promotion?” Then his bottom jaw juts out. “He’s a finance prick! How is this possible? I mean, why the hell would he do all this?”

I toss my arms in the air. “I wish I knew. But unfortunately, it’s the truth. He double screwed me.” The hurt climbs up my throat, but before it can morph into a public display of emotion, I swallow it down, and order myself to smile.

“That bastard.” Francis narrows his eyes as the truth settles in. “There’s proof, right? I mean once Walter and Vandenberg find out, he’s toast, right?”

“Here’s hoping.”

Francis juts out his hip, a shiny Prada brogue taps the marble floor. “You know, I never liked him.”

I snort violently. “Please, you check him out a dozen times a day. You put little hearts under his Instagram photos.”

Francis pouts. “I have a thing for sleeve tattoos. How was I to know he wasn’t the good type of bad boy?”

As hard as it is to do anything with my face apart fromscowl, I manage to flash Francis a weak grin. “I should really confront him.”

“Confront who?”

We’re startled by a voice that comes from over my shoulder. A voice we immediately recognize that forces a squeal to shriek from both of us.

Francis grabs my wrist while his other arm jerks above his head, sending the contents of his glass soaring. A shower of martini rains down on us.

More shrieking.

I grab Francis’s sleeve as my other hand plants on my chest, and the hair on the back of my neck stands on end. An unpleasant sticky feeling forms beneath the bodice of the dress. It remains unclear whether it’s the martini or rapidly forming boob sweat triggered by the intrusion.

Drew.

In front of me at last. Only now he’s here, my mouth turns bone dry and general speech eludes me.

“Whoa there,” Drew says, grinning at Francis who’s still clutching onto my wrist. “Didn’t mean to sneak up on you. You need a Kleenex or something?”

Francis shakes his head, mouth still gaping. Drew’s eyes skitter from me to Francis, evaluating the situation and taking longer than normal to draw a conclusion. Finally, he clears his throat. “Anyway, I thought we could grab some drinks or go find that photographer, you know get some good shots for Walter,” he says chuckling.

“Seriously?” My hands fall to my sides and my fingers curl into my palm. “You’re going to pretend like everything’s fine?”

His face remains completely neutral. It’s now that I can see that lying is his best practiced skill.

He smiles, and God I want to punch him. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh, that’s right,” I say, hearing the acid creep into my voice, like a single drop of venom entering the bloodstream. “I should have started withcongratulations,on the new job.”

His reaction is like slow motion bullet dodging. He drags a hand down his face as he looks anywhere but at me. “Shit.”

Shitindeed.

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