Page 78 of Morally Black Betrothal

Our eyes met, and the anger flashing through that sky blue made me release her immediately.

“What’s wrong?” I asked. “What’s happening? And what’s with the ugly hospital clothes?”

“Excuse me?”

I swallowed and tried again. “You’re later than I expected. Is everything okay?”

Her arms folded, and an adorable and irritatingly kissable crease formed between her brows. “Actually, no.”

Quickly, I rounded my desk and pressed the button for the privacy glass before sitting down. “What’s going on? Tell me.”

My heart started to gallop. A million ideas raced through my head. What if someone had hurt her? What if someone had threatened her? Who was the motherfucker, and how was I going to make them pay for what they’d done to?—

“No, I’m not hurt. But—honestly, Brendan, how could you?”

Her sharp accusation snapped me out of my spiral. “What? How could I what?” I looked around the room like an answer might be found somewhere in it.

“You really don’t know?”

I braced my hand on my desk so I wouldn’t punch the window. I couldn’t take the distress in her voice, especially when I had no idea what to do about it. “Simone, I honestly don’t knowwhat the fuck you’re talking about, but I need you to fill me in before I break something.”

She huffed, like a very angry baby horse. Like the deepening crease, it was too fucking cute.

“Come on, angel, help me out here.” I was going for friendly, but I sounded like an idiot.

What’s more, I felt like one.

Kindness never came naturally to me.

Even so, she seemed to melt a little when I tried (and, I suspected, failed) to smile. “There you are,” she murmured.

“Here I am?” I had no clue what she was talking about. “We done being mad?”

She straightened with a shake of her blond waves. “Not even a little.”

“Well, I can’t make it better if I don’t know what I did.”

“My job?”

“Your job…”

“Yes, myjob, Brendan. The one you resigned me fromwithout my permission.” She shook her head like she still couldn’t believe it. Like she was disappointed in me.

I honestly couldn’t remember the last time anyone was disappointed in me.

The feeling was…strange. And not particularly welcome.

“You had someone call and quit for me. Honestly, who quits another person’s job for them? Who?” She stamped her foot, but her sneaker didn’t make much of a sound in the carpet. The effect added to the unlikely charm of her frustration that only made me want to gather her into my arms and kiss it off her face.

What in the actual fuck?

Instead, I grabbed my phone. I couldn’t start acting like a lovesick idiot, but I could at least be right.

“You signed a contract.” I scrolled through my messages with Ruth. “And we explicitly discussed that you cannot be serving drunks as my fiancée. Did you forget?”

“I’m not talking about that job. I already turned in my notice at Fez, in case you were planning to interfere there as well.”

“I assumed you had.”