Faking It with the Frenemy

–Wyatt: Sure. Sounds like a plan.

Woohoo. I can’t decide where we should go, though. Some place we’ll both like. Maybe the cool Thai place Jo told me about a couple of months ago. I still haven’t had a chance to check it out. I start typing the suggestion, but stop when another text arrives from Wyatt.

–Wyatt: Shit. Can’t. Just learned the big boss wants to have a face-to-face.

The news both deflates and worries me. I’ve heard about Alexandra Darling. The woman is hard to please and spares no one. If she flew out here to talk…and if it’s going to go long enough that he’s expecting it to last through dinner…

–Me: Sounds serious.

–Wyatt: Not that kind of serious. I’ll be back by Friday. ;-)

–Me: Friday? How many courses is this dinner going to have?

–Wyatt: No, I have to fly to Virginia to see her. My flight leaves at 3:30. Just found out.

Craptastic Melanie undoubtedly forgot to mention it until now. Wyatt’s new assistant can’t start fast enough.

–Me: I’m gonna miss you.

–Wyatt: Likewise. But I’ll be back soon. And I’ll have the warehouse key couriered to your office today so you can get the statue.

–Me: Thanks.

I sigh. I wish it was Wyatt who was bringing the key, even though the chances of that happening are nil. He probably needs to pack and get his stuff together.

Friday’s only two days from now, I tell myself. But somehow it feels like a decade.

Chapter Forty-Seven

Kim

The restaurant Churchill picked for the meeting is Japanese and specializes in sushi. I’m glad of that, because if he’d chosen shabu shabu, I don’t know if I’d be able to eat anything. There’s limit to my tolerance, and sharing a hot pot with that cheating ass-groper would cross the line. There are some bosses who don’t let their assistants eat at lunch meetings, but not mine. Salazar says if I’m working during lunch, the least he can do is feed me.

Churchill looks like he always does—well dressed and smug. I don’t understand how he can be okay after the disastrous wedding, but it’s likely that shame isn’t high on the list of emotions he’s capable of. And I bet he forgot I saw his you-know-what.

Salazar and Churchill get some kind of complicated sushi platter. I get a simple otoro and chutoro nigiri set. It’s one of the more expensive items on the menu…and Churchill’s paying.

When our food arrives, Churchill immediately gobbles up a piece of yellowfin while Salazar studies his fish as though he can’t quite decide which to eat first. I take a bite of mine, since I need to eat before the men get down to business.

“It’s crazy how Geneva’s still upset,” Churchill says suddenly.

Is he kidding? He’s lucky she didn’t slice that limp stick off.

“Still in touch with her?” Salazar asks, his eyebrows raised.

“My lawyers are. She thinks she should get something in spite of the prenup.”

Well, yeah. Because you’re the one who cheated. I’m not a fan of Geneva, but my estimation of Churchill has dropped at least another ten notches.

“Brides do tend to get particular if you’re caught cheating on the wedding day,” Salazar points out, like he’s saying that clouds are white.

Churchill scoffs. “It isn’t like she’s the faithful type. She cheated on her ex-husband with me. That’s why she got nothing from that marriage, not even a penny of the billion he made right after the divorce. Stupid. Who the hell gets caught like that when it matters the most?”

Oh my God. I resist the urge to put a hand to my forehead. Pot. Meet kettle.

Salazar puts a silver-dollar-sized scallop into his mouth, obviously not wanting to comment.

Churchill turns to me. “You looking for someone to treat you right?”