Page 75 of Crash and Burn
I picked her up and cuddled her to my chest, needing the comfort, even if it was from the devil itself. She nestled down into my chest and began purring.
"I don't know what happened," I told Mittens. "I've never seen that girl before. Grant's never mentioned her. I have no idea who she is. And all she had to do was bat her eyes and shed a few tears and he left with her. Without even saying a word to me."
Nausea made its way up from my stomach and into my throat, threatening to spew from my mouth. I swallowed it back and took another breath.
I wasn't going to let myself fall apart. Surely there was a reasonable explanation for what happened.
Alana might have been a long-lost friend.
A long-lostgirlfriend?my inner voice snarked. I shoved it aside.
Maybe she was in need of some kind of help.
The kind of help that required a full-on PDA makeout?it piped up again.
Maybe Grant was just being his usual Grant self, helping someone in need.
Leaving to help her without even explaining anything to you?came another snarky retort.
I clenched my fists again and screwed my eyes shut, trying to ignore that irritating inner voice.
Mittens yelped as I squeezed her too tight. I loosened my grip, expecting her to leap away, but she stayed put. I reached for my phone on the nightstand and peered at the screen. No new messages. Nothing from Grant.
Disappointment filled that gaping hole in my chest. He hadn't even texted me to tell me what was going on. Was he not thinking about me at all? Had he even considered what I might be feeling or thinking?
Or was that Alana girl the only thing he cared about?
How could someone who had never once been mentioned by Grant be so important to him he would act like this?
My face screwed up in a scowl the more I thought about it.
That full-on-the-lips kiss they'd shared had stunned me into silence. I should have spoken up and demanded to know what was going on. Demanded to know who she was and why she was bothering Grant. Wherever they had gone, I should have insisted I go with them. If this girl really was in trouble somehow, surely she could have used the extra help.
I looked down at my phone again. No new messages in the five minutes since I'd last checked.
I thumbed open my messaging app and typed out a quick couple of words.
What happened last night?I asked Grant.
I wanted to ask a hundred more questions. Who was that Alana girl, how did they know each other, why had he never mentioned her?
I didn't say any of that. I didn't want to overwhelm him with a flurry of questions. If we were going to talk about all those things, I wanted to do it in person, not through text. But at the very least, Grant owed me an explanation for peacing out last night.
My phone pinged and my heart jumped in anticipation and relief. Then it sunk to the floor.
It wasn't Grant. It was an email from Carling's assistant. He wanted to have a quick meeting with me immediately to go over some important details. Despite my hangover, I'd woken up early. I had enough time to make the meeting before I had to be at the bar for my shift.
The bar. Would Grant be there for his own shift? Would he talk to me about what had happened, or would he put it off until after work?
I shook my head. Either way, I had to stop moping long enough to get showered and dressed before the meeting. Even though a maelstrom was tearing through my guts, I had to put on a professional face and fake it for an hour or two.
When I arrived at the office, Carling was waiting for me.
"Ms. Mitchell, thank you for coming on such short notice," he said as he took my hand in greeting.
I faked a bright smile even as my temples pounded. My hangover had barely subsided at all.
"No problem at all," I said. "I was up anyway."
