Page 33 of Single Mom’s Secret Diary (The Forbidden Reverse Harem Collection)
Avery
T he file splays across Ezra’s desk, papers calling me the office whore, a slut, and other less than original names spread before me. I’m not surprised. Not with the things Laurel said to my face. Not with the way she glared every time we were in the same room together.
“And does the board know about this, too?”
After a short pause, Ezra says, “No.”
I have to give it to him. He’s composed like the perfect businessman. Like the in-control boss.
How stupid of me to forget that he’s my boss. That his business has to come first. Before me. So very stupid.
Even if I can read the tension in his shoulders, the displeasure in the line of his mouth, the pleading in his eyes for me to not take this personally.
How can I not?
They went through my work computer without saying a word to me. I would have unlocked it and offered them free reign had they asked. But they didn’t.
It pisses me off more than anything else.
I can’t be their equal in bed and then be less than that when we’re at work. I can always find another job.
And the fucking board. One unfounded accusation and the lockdown of my movements in the lab I can accept, but I refuse to be their scapegoat for it again. I didn’t do anything wrong.
The three men in this room should trust me, believe in me.
Maybe once trust is broken, it can never be repaired. Not completely.
“How convenient. Don’t worry, then. I’ll save you the trouble and clear my desk out before lunch. It’s not like you need me now, anyway.” I snatch up my phone from the edge of his desk and stomp toward the door before I throw it.
“Avery,” Wyatt calls. “Wait.”
It slices through me, but I can’t stop. Because if I stop, I’m going to break down in tears. Instead, I wrap that anger around myself more tightly and slam Ezra’s door behind me on the way out.
It doesn’t take me more than a few minutes to collect my things. I’d never truly unpacked. Maybe that should have been a sign.
I don’t bother wiping anything from the computer. There’s no point. They’ve been through it all already.
Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I head for the stairs. Luckily, I don’t have to pass Ezra’s office again on my way out.
Once I’m behind the wheel of my car, I have to take a second to catch my breath. Tears blur my vision, and I blink them away, refusing to let myself succumb to any modicum of sadness. Not when I have a shit-ton of righteous anger to cling to.
I’m halfway to my father’s house by the time I’m able to breathe without gasping and heaving. Until I’m finally able to unclench my jaw. Until defeat slumps my shoulders.
How could I think this would turn out any other way than this?
And as mad as I am, as much as I might have punched or slapped one of them for coming after me, I’m more disappointed that none of them did.
That says it all. Doesn’t it?
Climbing to my father’s porch, I knock before going in. Charlie is sprawled across the couch playing a video game, and Dad is in his favorite place—the kitchen. The moment he sees me, he’s heading my way.
It takes less than a minute for his big arms to surround me. I sag against him.
“Let me make you something, bambina . And we talk.”
I nod into his chest, and he rocks me for another minute before he guides me to a stool at his bar counter. I used to sit here as a kid to watch him bake, to taste and refine his recipes with him. It was our spot, will always be our spot.
It puts a small smile on my face to know that I’ll always have this with my dad.
He pulls free a few cannoli shells from his oven, already fried to a golden perfection. The ingredients for a filling materialize in batches—ricotta and mascarpone cheese, an orange and a lemon, sugar and a zester, vanilla and mini dark chocolate chips.
Watching him scoop, pour, zest and mix has my mouth watering. He fills his piping bag and raises his brow at me.
I sigh. “Don’t I get to taste it before I get the inquiring Dad face?”
He fills a shell, hands it over, and waves for me to go ahead and take my first bite. I do. I’m not shameless enough to turn down the offering. It’s sweet and creamy, the flavors amplified in a way I’m not used to, but all the more tasty.
I eat a lot of sweets, but I’ve always been a savory girl. I hope my palate isn’t still having strange side effects from the poisoning. It really wasn’t so long ago, even though it feels like it.
When I open my eyes, Dad’s face is more indulgent. “Tell me what happened.”
I nod and slowly unravel the story for him. He knows most of the important parts about Ezra, Wyatt, and Ryder. That we’re mixing business with pleasure. That Ezra is Charlie’s dad, and what happened way back then. About my trust issues.
But I didn’t ever tell him about Laurel or that I’d been accused of business espionage, leaking confidential formulas to competitors. That my movements in the lab were restricted. How that hadn’t kept me safe enough to not get poisoned.
Now, I have today to add to it all. The second accusation hurt worse than the first. Especially after I almost died and still came back to work.
“Honestly, if I were going to steal and sell the formula, I never would have confirmed which one it was for Wyatt. I would have kept my mouth shut and gone on my way.”
Dad laughs and fills the last two cannoli shells, putting all but one in the fridge to set up completely. “You were always too smart and assertive for your own good. Too honest.”
I make a noncommittal noise. “I’m the most obvious suspect. I’d be stupid to sell it. But maybe they think I’m stupid.”
“Avery.” The way Dad’s voice lowers has me putting up my defenses. I know this is going to be a hard blow. “You know better. There’s no way those three think you’re stupid.”
“They think I’m stupid enough to let them hide behind their board votes. I didn’t tell you the best part.” My cackle is a bit too loud, and Charlie peers over the couch at me. I blow him a kiss, and he turns back to the TV.
“That woman, Laurel, vandalized my office door. They fired her pretty much on the spot and didn’t involve the board.”
“Vandalized how?” Dad’s eyes are dark with violence.
I wave my hand away. “Juvenile shit. It’s fine, really. Nothing worse than what she said to my face. That’s not the point.”
“What is your point?” He chews slowly on another bite of cannoli.
“Why didn’t they tell me any of this when it happened?
Why did they vote with the board without even giving me a chance to defend myself?
Why didn’t they defend me? Why didn’t I hear about the leak when it happened instead of this morning when I got to work?
That’s my project, too.” Tears burn in the back of my eyes, and I blink the wetness away with a few quick moves.
I hate it when people keep things from me. Yes, I’m a hypocrite. But this is a lot. It’s more recent. And I didn’t wait that long to tell Ezra.
And that was mostly due to shock, fear, and a lack of trust.
Here we are again.
Dad smiles at me sadly. “Should you not give them the benefit of the doubt?”
“Why? They didn’t give it to me.”
I don’t understand why. That’s what makes it hurt so much. Why I stormed out of there like I did. Why it broke my heart when they let me.
“Is that really what upsets you?” He takes my hands and makes me look him in the eyes, like he’s pleading with me to see something as plain as day.
“I’ve tried so hard to trust them. But how can I when they do this to me?”
“ Bambina .” He pats my hand and shakes his head. “Do you love them?”
“I…” Do I? Maybe? I don’t know. Probably.
“Because it sounds like you’re afraid. That makes you lash out.”
My mouth drops open. Dad gives me another meaningful look before he goes about preparing lunch.