Page 56 of Mile High Coach

And the other half of the comments? They say I’m manipulative. That I took advantage of Lovie. That I should be fired instantly.

Jared Davis has made sure to bring every single article to my attention, inadvertently or not.

I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood when I look at the fucker. Something about him has always rubbed me the wrong way. Hair parted way too far to the side, a suit with sleeves that are too short, the sort of condescending little smirk that comes from an Ivy League, silver-spoon-up-the-ass, boys club sort of upbringing.

“After last month’s little scandal,” he says, straightening his papers and addressing the room. “I’m happy to report that we’ve got control of the comments on our social media posts again, and our surveys are coming back much more positive now.”

I clench my hands under the table and try not to give Ki anything more to be pissed off about. Breathing slowly, I bring air in through my nose and out through my mouth. Zen shit.

“Of course, there are still comments coming through, and we’ve been the subject of a few YouTube commentary videos.”

When he turns and clicks on the projector behind him, revealing the thumbnail for a video that prominently featuresLovie and I standing together at the Christmas market, I hear the screech of my chair before I realize I’ve stood up.

“Mr. Davis,” Ki has already started to say, but I cut him off, turning my fury toward Jared.

“What the fuck is this?” I snarl, throwing my hand toward the screen.

Jared glances at it, then back at me, tilting his head like he doesn’t understand. “That is a picture of you and one of your subordinates, Mr. Clark.”

“She wasn’t—isn’t—my fucking subordinate, and I’m ready for you to let this go.”

“Too bad the public doesn’t follow the same disinterest path as you, Clark,” Jared says, still smirking. “It would definitely make my job a lot easier. In the future, I’d suggest not being so public with her when you go out?—”

As I stare at him, register the pleasure that he’s taking from this whole thing, something occurs to me for the first time.

Since the day that article came out, I’d just assumed it was a random fan who took the pictures of us, submitted them for a buck to a local magazine. Or maybe someone had posted us on their story, thinking it was nothing, only seeing me with a new woman.

But maybe it wasn’t a random fan.

Maybe it was someone who knew exactly how these photos would affect me, Lovie, and this team. Maybe it was someone who would have a lot to gain if PR was suddenly a lot more important and involved.

“You took those pictures, didn’t you?” The words come out of me before I can vet them, and the look on Jared’s face tells me everything I need to know the second he hears them.

“W-what?” he stammers, raising his hands in a sign of obvious guilt, glancing around the rest of the room, as though looking for confirmation that this line of questioning is totallyunfair. “No, of course not. I wasn’t even at the Christmas market!”

But I don’t need to hear another word out of his mouth. I can see from the look on his face that it was him. Whether or not he took the pictures himself, he had something to do with this entire thing.

With Lovie leaving.

Why? Because he showed interest in her, and she didn’t want him? As far as I’m concerned, this asshole should be the real target of the comments. I’ve heard stories about him making comments to people, making his department so uncomfortable our best would rather quit than try to make a comment to HR, try to get something fixed.

And he was obviously interested in Lovie, obviously trying to do the same exact thing to her. Potentially, he even followed her to that market with me.

I’m across the room before I realize what I’m doing, and my fist is landing on Jared Davis’ smug, smirking face, his cheek crumpling under the force like the fucker is made of bird bones.

“Harrison!” Ki calls, jumping up. Other arms loop around me, trying to pull me back, but I’m able to get a hand on Davis’ shirt before they rip me away.

“If you ever fuck with her again,” I spit, fury rattling through me like a runaway train. “I’ll do a lot more than give you a black eye.”

Chapter 25

Lovie

Eventually, with enough time and distance, my feelings for Harrison will go away.

At least, that’s what I keep telling myself.

I wake up at five in the morning on the dot, pull on my thermals, and go for a long run through the snow, ignoring the way it freezes my toes and seeps into my socks. The numbness makes it far more painful each time my feet hit the ground, but I deserve it.

---