Page 68 of Desserts for Stressed People

“The outfits for the waiters and other staff.”

He nods. “They have promised me an answer by tonight.”

“There’s also the band I’ve selected. We need to see them perform, and—”

He links his fingers over the desk. “I’ll go see them play tomorrow.”

And the subtext of that is that I’m not invited. “Okay, sure.”

“Anything else?”

I sit in the chair in front of him. I’m saying my piece—it’s now or never. “Shane, I can explain.”

“Heaven, is he your boyfriend?” he asks with a voice so cold it cuts through me.

“Yes, but—”

He motions me away. “Then there’s nothing to talk about.”

Oh, hell no. He has to let me speak—at the very least, he owes me the respect to listen to my explanation. “Shane, I’m breaking up with him.”

He erupts into a loud laugh. “Good for you.”

When Marina sits at her desk and gives us a curious look, I curse the glass walls of Shane’s office. It’d be awfully nice if they were wooden walls, like Billy’s.

Ignoring the feeling of dread in my stomach, I turn my attention to the angry man on the other side of the desk. “I mean it. You might be Mr. Asshole, but he’s King Dickhead. The only reason I didn’t say yes to what you asked is that I’m not a cheater. He is. And I wanted to say yes more than...anything.”

He lightly shakes his head as his hand abandons the mouse. It looks as if every word I utter just increases his disappointment. When his gaze sets on me, he asks, “And the seminar? Where were you while yourboyfriendthought you were away for work?”

“At Emma’s. I needed a break from Alex, from the situation.” I grip onto his desk and lean forward. “Shane, I swear, I’m not lying.”

“Yeah?” He smiles, though he’s anything but joyful. “What about RadaR?”

As I blankly stare at him, his eyes shrink.

“Yes. The dating app. I have it too, and I’ve heard the notification on your phone. You have a boyfriend you don’t cheat on, yet you’re on a dating app. And you flirt with me.”

I wish I didn’t look as flustered as I feel, but I didn’t think about that stupid app and the fact that he heard it on my phone. “I’m on RadaR...because he’s on RadaR.”

“And how is that better?”

I fix a lock of hair behind my ear. “Because—because I’m not on RadaR to hook up.”

“Then why are you on it, Heaven? Is it to make new long-lasting friendships?” He’s whispering, but his voice is hard as cement.

“No. I’m...” I stutter, trying to find the right words. “I wanted to match with him and catch him in the act.”

His brows furrow, and after a few seconds of silence, he sighs. “Okay. You know what? I’m glad it went as it did. Forget I’ve asked you out. I take it back—no more flirting, no more hanging out. Just work.”

It feels as if he’s punched me in the face. He doesn’t need a minute to think about it, does he? Just like that, it’s all over. “Wow. That’s how much this is worth to you? One minute and you’re out?”

His eyes shoot to mine. “Is there anything else?”

“I’m going to see the band tomorrow. This is my project.”

“No. You have no experience with events,” he says as he takes out his phone and dials a number.

“I am perfectly prepared to deal with this task.”

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