Page 109 of Undeniably Corrupt

She steps toward me, and I shake my head, hoping to stop her. I can’t do this with her. I don’t have any mean in me, and my protective barrier is close to none.

But she shocks me with, “Are you okay?”

I emit a humorless laugh. “I’ll be fine.” Because that’s my standard answer. It’s been my answer for the last ten years since Cassian died and my life began unraveling at the seams. I’ll be fine because I have no choice but to be.

“But you’re not right now.”

I sigh and twist my neck to look at her. “No. I’m not right now, so please don’t take any shots at me.”

She frowns and places her hand on my shoulder. “Can I do anything? Get anyone for you?”

I blink at her, at her sincerity, and slowly shake my head, unable to form words.

“Okay. But if you change your mind, I’ll be in that stall.” She points to the middle one and leaves me here to wash my face in peace. I’m too shocked to respond, so I do my thing while she does hers. “Wear the red lipstick,” she calls out as the toilet flushes. “No one can fuck with you when you’re wearing that. It’ll help.”

I take in my puffy, red eyes and flushed cheeks. I look like hell. But fuck it. “Good call. And thank you, Alesha.”

“I’m sorry if I’ve been a bitch. I don’t do jealousy well, but I’m over it and I hope we can be too.”

“Thanks. I’d like that.”

I leave the bathroom before she comes out of the stall and head for my office to find my small cosmetics bag I keep here to attack my face with everything I’ve got. I don’t typically wear makeup to clinical, but here in the office, I like to. My office feels like a respite. Like a sanctuary I can take a moment to get my shit back together in without an audience, except I’m once again proven wrong with that.

“Knock, knock,” Champagne chirps, and I spin around, giving her my back. Fuck. I needed these five minutes to cool down and a lot more time with the concealer.

“Oh, honey.”

My head shakes violently. “I’m fine.” Why does someone catching you after you cry make you start crying again?

“You don’t look fine. I saw your face before you spun around.”

“Please don’t.” It’s a gasped plea.

Two arms meet my shoulders and spin me around. Suddenly I’m face-deep in the wonderful and comforting embrace of Champagne.

“Tell me.” She rubs my back, and I can’t stop it now. I don’t remember the last time a motherly figure hugged me like this. I’ve been lost and lonely and alone for so long. Then I had this weekend. And it was perfect. A dream. I allowed myself to be happy for one blissfully content moment, and now it’s all over, and not only am I freaking terrified, I’m heartbroken.

“I can’t.” I grip her back. “I’m not being evasive. I really can’t.”

“Are you and your girl safe?”

I break down even more, and she hugs me tighter. “You have to tell him. I know you’re living with him, and I’m glad for it. But he can help you.”

“I can’t. I can’t. They’ll…” I trail off. I shouldn’t have even said that word.

“I’m not telling you this. You never heard me speak. I’m not even here. But I have a house in South Carolina. It was my great-great-grandmother’s. It’s old as sin, but it’s the safest, most comforting place you’ll ever be.”

“Then I hope that’s where you plan to live all of your days.”

“Honey. What can I do?”

“This. This is so much more than I’ve had in years.”

“What’s all this?”

Vander’s voice snaps like a whip, and I jerk back and flee to the window like a scared little girl, keeping my face averted as I hastily and pathetically try to wipe my face.

“She’s heartbroken I’m retiring on Friday and leaving her with your sorry ass.”