Page 30 of Empire State Enemies

TEN

Lexi

It’s like popping a zit you know will crater yet lacking the willpower to stop.

That sums up me, scrolling the blow-by-blow of Quinn’s steamy tryst with Miss America. Their R-rated convo leaked everywhere. Ninety percent too explicit without bleeps.

This is blowing up exponentially. It’s like if Mother Teresa, or whoever the popular saint is these days, launched an OnlyFans. America’s sweetheart caught with billionaire playboy at a political gala with her senator dad there? Cha-ching, the hits keep coming.

It doesn’t help that there’s photos of them too, looking cozy.

And me, sadist that I am, just can’t look away. I make the conscious decision to put on my headset and seek out the leaked audio. Two clicks and I’m hit with static before Connor’s velvet voice slips into my ear.

I wince. Ugh. Well, at least I don’t have to feel guilty about leaving him wounded in the bathroom.

“My angelmy ass,” I mutter.

Kayla shoots me a look and I wave her off, irritation simmering.

Clearly he lives up to the playboy reputation, him and that damn husky drawl of his. Churns through women weekly.

I minimize the video to pretend I’m working. But Quinn keeps whispering explicit promises in my ear, along with Willow’s breathy giggles.

I know I should click away, but like rubbernecking a highway wreck, I can’t seem to stop torturing myself. Imagining his hands on her body, giving her all the top-shelf orgasms.

Two excruciating minutes of audio torture drag by. By the end, I’m numb, mouse clutched in a death grip.

This is great. Quinn’s got bigger issues than a stolen car. He’s too busy defiling Miss America to care.

He’s already forgotten your name, let alone giving a crap enough to hurt you.

I breathe a small sigh of relief and jab my mouse to close the window. Stupid thing is frozen. I need this shit off my screen so I can forget it.

Maybe I’ll just bash my head on my desk until sweet amnesia takes over.

Before I can enact that plan, fingers snap inches from my face, cutting between me and the screen. I jolt back with a yelp.

Vicky looms over me, eyes narrowed.

“When you’re done drooling over Connor Quinn, I’d appreciate getting that report before I retire,” she snaps, crimson talons tapping my monitor. “Or do you need a couple more minutes to wrap things up?”

Heat creeps up my neck as laughter ripples through nearby desks. “What? No, I wasn’t listening to . . . that.”

“Really?” She eyes my screen pointedly. “Because your little window box there says,Connor and Willow: Uncensored Live Audio.”

Crap. No point lying now.

Vicky struts off, her hair bobbing with each step.

I sink lower in my chair as the office buzzes with barely contained amusement. So much for subtlety.

Taking a deep breath, I channel my mortification into work, attacking my keyboard with enough force to dislodge some keys. Why should I care about Connor and Willow’s sexy shenanigans? It’s none of my business.

I hit send on the report just as Kayla approaches.

“Jeez, you doofus,” she teases, perching on my desk.

“Everyone’s listened to it,” I say defensively. As if to prove my point, a squeal sounds from reception. “See? Abigail’s listening to it right now.”