Page 39 of Playing With Secrets
I rattle my knuckles against his door. He spins around and as I come into his view, the smile on his face disappears.
“Do you have a minute?” I gesture to the chairs in his office.
He glances at them, avoiding my eyes, and marches to his desk. “Take a seat.”
I step in and close the door behind me as he sits.
He runs his hand over his stubbly beard as he watches me. “Do we need to have the door closed?”
“Yes. I’m not in here to talk about work. This is personal.”
“There’s nothing to discuss.”
“There is, and you know it.” I sit in the chair before him.
My guts flip with nervous butterflies and shame. I’m sure I hurt him worse than anyone has, and my stomach hates me for it. I still can’t eat without wanting to throw up.
What I did to him presses on my soul and makes me ill to the core. The only good thing that came out of it was that I got myself back into therapy. It’s been brutal, to say the least.
He leans his elbow against the arm of his chair, bent so he can run his hand over his mouth. His head is tilted, and he’s considering something as he studies my face. Anger blazes in his eyes.
“So when you want to talk about our personal issues,that’s fine, but fuck me when I do.” He glances at the door and shakes his head. “Say what you need to say and then go.”
My chest caves in. I knew I hurt him, but he might hate me now. I swallow to get myself together. He sighs heavily, telling me he’s done with waiting.
I suck in a deep breath and put my brave face on. I meet his gaze with mine, begging him to hear me out.
My heart pounds loud and hard, beat by beat like a base drum. “You didn’t deserve how I treated you. I was hurt and took it out on you.”
Something sinister spins in his gaze, and his eyes fill with disgust. He lowers his head as he cups his hands in his lap.
“Jami, what was that look for?”
He grunts and raises his head. “Do you really want me to answer that?”
“Yes. I want to have an honest conversation about this.” I glance at the door and then turn back. “Everyone is upstairs celebrating. We won’t be interrupted.”
“An honest conversation?” His eyebrows rise, and he gives me an out by throwing in words from our night together. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
I nod, giving him the go-ahead.
Jami shoots me a look of revulsion. “You say you were in pain and took it out on me, yet your pain wasn’t enough to stop you from giving Hunter head, now was it?”
I did not expect that.
A bolt of sheer panic has me wanting to run and hide.
My insides hollow out as my eyes round in shock. “What are you talking about?”
Jami huffs a laugh. “No, you’re right, Dori. You did take it out on me by doing that the very night… Fuck this. I’m done with this conversation.”
His words are machetes slashing through me. I’m frozen in guilt and in a horror film where Jami and I are the starringactors. Oh, but if only it were a movie. That would be easier than this.
My eyelids flutter rapidly. “I don’t know where you got?—”
“Look, don’t even try it on me. I’ll save you from making a total ass out of yourself and tell you Hunter told me.”
Good God, why would he do that?
