Page 60 of The Game Plan

But my lips are twitching. I know in about ten minutes we’re going to be bare, and Finn is going to hate every second of it.I itch to take out my phone and text Fi. My smile dies a swift death at the thought of her. Fi didn’t sound right. She washurting, and damn if I know why. The distance between us is like a cold hand gripping my spine. I don’t like the feeling,or the fact that she didn’t tell me the truth.

But I’m going to find out. The sooner I’m stripped andoiledthe faster I can. I take a deep breath and step forward. “I’ll go first.”

Twenty-One

Fiona

It is a universal truth that women like to talk their problems out. Unfortunately, all the talk in the world won’t make aproblem go away. Mine is waiting for me like a looming black cloud as soon as I get into work and see that Elena has movedto her own office at the end of the hall.

She waves, grinning broadly, as I walk past. I briefly wonder how a finger-wave back would go over but don’t bother. Instead,she gets a chin nod as if I’m channeling a bad biker cliché. It feels stupid and ineffectual, and I’m in a piss-poor moodby the time I get to my desk and find that Felix’s to-do list includes ordering fabrics that I picked out but are now consideredElena’s design contribution.

She comes to my desk just as I’m turning on my computer. “I thought you’d want to hear it from me. Felix just called me intohis office this morning. He gave me the associate designer job.” She squeezes my hand. “I hope we can still be friends. I’vereally enjoyed bouncing ideas off each other.”

God, she says it so sincerely. And what can I do? I’m prettysure punching her in the face won’t help the situation. Though it might feel really fucking good.

I glare down at my hand, my fingers slowly curling into a fist. But for some odd reason, I start to think of Ethan’s handwrapping around mine, holding me down as he slides into me.

“You feel so good, Cherry.” Brilliant eyes of green-gold and amber look at me with glazed wonder. “Nothing better on Earththan this.”

“Fiona? You okay?”

I suck in a breath and glance up at Elena, who hovers. “Yep. All good.” Not entirely true. But I’m calmer. Able to speak,anyway. “Anything else?”

She frowns a little. “Ah... no.”

“Okay. Well, I’m getting some coffee then.”

I leave her standing there. For now, I’m calm. But every step I take hammers it in: I hate this. I hate this.

It occurs to me that I have to be a little more proactive. Take the bull by the horns. I am woman, hear me roar and all that.

I wait until the end of the day to make my move. Yes, I’m that brave.

“Felix? You have a moment?” I clutch my clammy hands behind the folds of my skirt.

Felix looks up from his laptop. A tiny white espresso cup sits beside it, which means he’s probably reading up on celebritygossip. “Sure, sweetie.”

Sweetie? I want to gag. And now that I’ve worked up the nerve to approach him, I actually have to talk. Part of me reallywants to laugh. I have absolutely no trouble talking to people. I don’t think I could go a day without saying something tosomeone, even if it’s just to tell a person they have on cute shoes.

But now a golf ball-size lump of panic is lodged in my throat, and it’s all I can do just to get my ass in the chair oppositeFelix.

“Want an espresso?” He gives me an overly friendly smile, the one he uses on clients he fears might be difficult. So I knowhe isn’t exactly unaware of why I’m here.

“No. I’m good.” I focus on his eyes. Always look them in the eye. Reminds you that you’re talking to another human. Nothing more. “You... ah... made Elena associate designer?”

Everything inside me wants to scream, maybe throw Felix’s coffee onto his pristine white leather Corbusier lounge chair.

With an expansive sigh, he sits back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Yes, I did, hon.”

“I thought you weren’t going to make that decision until next month.”

“Fiona, I understand that you’re disappointed.” His tone is so patronizing, I dig my nails into my palms to keep from twitching.“But you and I both know it was coming to this.” He takes a dainty sip of his macchiato. “I simply sped up the process.”

“Is it...” I suck back a sobbing breath. “Is it because I went on vacation?”

His cup clinks on the glass desktop. “God, no.” He regards me for a moment, his dark eyes almost sad. “Elena simply has anedge that you do not. Namely, contacts.”

This time a sob does escape me, only it sounds kind of like a laugh. “You promoted her because of her mother?”