“I’m not pregnant.”
“Okay, okay. Jeez.” He wheeled his chair backward and held his hands in the air. “I’m just saying, Jake Monroe’s been coming to visit you on your breaks a whole lot lately. It’s okay if you are. I won’t look at you any differently.”
“Stop talking.” I pressed a hand to my forehead. I was still sweating, and my boss wasn’t making it better. “I’m leaving work. I’m sick. I’m not pregnant, though. Just sick. That’s all.”
He nodded. “Got it.”
And I was out the door when he called after me, “But when you decide you are pregnant, let me know as soon as possible. I need a heads-up for maternity leave—that is, if you’re still going to work during school.”
“Shut up!” I yelled over my shoulder.
My bag.
I needed it before going to the back door. Snark was probably there already. Bruce had my bag in the air, waiting for me, as I swept into the bar. I ducked, pulling one of the straps over my body, and he only smirked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Not you, too.”
He kept quiet. Smart of him.
Word had traveled fast. A couple of the cooks asked about my due date, and I flipped them all the middle finger, too. Henry was coming from the back section after seating some new customers in the private room.
He bypassed me, right before I reached the back door, and he gave me the thumbs-up. “I approve, too, my nemesis. And you’re right. I won’t get promoted when you go on maternity leave.”
Violence is bad. I tried telling myself that, and then—screw it.
His back was to me, but I stuck my foot out and hit it against his ankle.
Henry stumbled and almost went down. He caught himself, grabbing ahold of the wall, but he shot me a glare. “That was mature.”
I was out the door, and it slammed shut behind me. I was grinning when Snark pulled up and waved from inside.
“Get in. We have to talk.”
Then, I remembered. My old face was plastered all over the news now.
Oh, boy.
Snark didn’t say much once I got inside.
When he didn’t take me to my apartment or to the diner, I asked, “Where are we going?”
“To see your boyfriend.”
I groaned. “Jake is not my boyfriend, and we’re not pregn—”
“Kian Maston.” He leveled me with a frown. “And I hope you’re not pregnant because you already have a nightmare on your hands. A kid would make it ten times worse.”
“Good.” Not good, I meant. “And I’m not. I’m not pregnant, that is.”
“I wasn’t saying you were.”
“I know. The guys back there—” I shut up. Snark didn’t give a damn about my work issues. “Did you say we’re going to see Kian?”
“Yep, and don’t even think about lying to me. I know you’ve seen him a few times, and you’ve been in contact over the phone.”
“It wasn’t like that, and he’s gone. It doesn’t matter anyway.”
“It does matter, and he’s not gone. Your boy never checked out of the hotel when his PR and legal team checked out. And, yes, Jo, I know all about the interview he did with your roommate and the school paper.” He opened the console and pulled out a folded paper, tossing it onto my lap. “Did you actually read what your friend wrote?”
“Um…”
Erica thought I had.
“My summer hobby has been avoiding all news outlets. Why?”
“Because there’s a huge section all dedicated to you, and I’m assuming his legal team was successful with turning the investigation in your direction, not his.”
“What? How can that even be? He said he killed Edmund. That’s irrefutable.”
“Not if he was set up.” As he pulled into a parking lot, he gave me a meaningful look.
“By me? Kian and I didn’t even really know each other before Edmund. I knew of him. He was popular, but I wasn’t.” I tried to glimpse the front of the building. I assumed it was a hotel because that’s where Kian was staying, but there was no sign on the front. There was nothing that really identified what hotel it was, and I was distracted by what Snark was saying to study it any more. He drove quickly to the back of the hotel.
“Were you invited to their parties?”
“My boyfriend was. I went once because of him.”
“Did the other girls hang out with you?”
“No, they didn’t like me. They made fun of me, called me Charity Case at that party. It’s why I only went once with my boyfriend.”
“Kids can be cruel. I’m sure it’s the same nowadays.” After parking, he gestured to the door. I followed his cue and got out as he did the same. “Actually, I bet they’re worse nowadays. I’ve got a kid in school, but she’s in the sixth grade. I don’t know what I’ll do when she gets older.”
“You’re FBI. I doubt she’s going to be looked at like a charity case,” I murmured as I craned my head back to take in the entire hotel. The entire hotel was made up of dark mirrored glass.