Page 80 of Behind Frenemy Lines

“I don’t know what you’re planning,” he said. “But you should know I’m not going to be blackmailed, or lied about. I’ve taken enough shit these past few years.”

His voice was rising, his face flushed. And—I noticed for the first time—he’d put himself between me and the door.

“Arthur…”

“I think you’re forgetting the terms of our relationship,” he said. A fleck of saliva landed on my cheek. “You moved here to build your career? You wouldn’t have a career without me. If you want to keep it, I’d suggest you remember that.”

I wiped his spit off my cheek, meeting his eyes. “Maybe I don’t.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow. “What’s that?”

It was the condescension that did it, even more than that stray drop of saliva.

“I’m resigning,” I said. “You can take this as my week’s notice. I’ll put it in writing to HR.”

Arthur looked like he’d stepped on a worm only to have it turn around and swear at him. I could have laughed, furious and scared as I was.

“You can’t—” He pulled himself together. “You’re going to regret this.”

“I don’t think I will.”

I knew I’d said enough, that I should keep my mouth shut. But it felt like I might as well get out everything I had to say to Arthur while I was here. It wasn’t like we were going to be staying in touch in future.

“But you might,” I said.

I was realising, for the first time, that Arthur needed me more than I needed him. That was all I meant.

But Arthur took two strides towards me and grabbed my arm, shaking me like a misbehaving child.

He ground out, “You arenotgoing to threaten me.”

I tried to jerk my arm out of his grip, but his hold didn’t slacken.

“Arthur,” I said, trying for a warning tone. My voice only wobbled a little.

If he didn’t let me go, I was going to stamp on his foot. I was wearing Ferragamo dupes from Next, with a low block heel,but if I stamped hard enough I was pretty sure I could make him feel it.

Before I could do it, the door swung open, slamming into Arthur’s shoulder. He yelped and staggered, releasing me.

“Oh. Sorry,” said Charles, in the doorway. “I was looking for Kriya. Is everything all right?” He looked Arthur up and down, with an air of faint distaste.

I was familiar with that expression on Charles—the expression of someone who’s stepped in something nasty and is annoyed about his upcoming trip to the dry cleaners. But I’d never seen him wield it on purpose before.

It was, in fact, the first time I had seen Charles menace someone. It was incredibly attractive.

“Er—” said Arthur. He collected himself, throwing back his shoulders and pushing out his chest. “Kriya and I were just talking.”

“Yes,” I said. “And now we are done talking.” I held Arthur’s gaze until he dropped his eyes.

“Great,” said Charles. He looked at me and his eyes went soft. “Shall we go?”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Kriya

The walk backto our office was quiet. I waited till Charles and I were safe in the room to say:

“Thanks for coming to look for me.”

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