After the Kiss (Sex, Love & Stiletto 1)

Not because Kelli’s jab hurt.

But because it was true.

Julie’s actions had been less than upstanding. Hell, they’d been downright bottom-feeding. In many ways she was no better than Kelli, or even Allen, and she should absolutely have to pay the price for what she’d done.

But not this way. Not with every reader of the Ne

w York Tribune in on her biggest mistake.

“Does Camille know it was you?”

“No,” Kelli said with a smug smile. “And if you tell her, you can’t prove that it was me.”

Julie gave Kelli a scathing look. “Honey, if I was going to sell you out for being a bitch, I would have done it when you stole my story notes after I found you fucking my boyfriend on top of them.”

They both froze at the unexpected verbal attack.

It was the first time Julie had ever referenced what happened between them, and even as the accusation hung in the air like a silent toxin, Julie felt the smallest sense of relief at getting it out in the open. It had been festering for far too long. Some people simply weren’t worth the effort of staying mad at. Julie was realizing Kelli was one of them.

“You can’t prove that either,” Kelli said. But her voice had gone weak. Defeated. Maybe even guilty.

“You know, I always thought that level of malicious back-stabbing existed only in movie villains. And then I met you. We were friends, Kelli. What is your problem with me?” Julie asked, bafflement defusing some of her anger.

“Please,” Kelli said with a prissy sniff as she studied the trendy gold bangles on her wrist. “We were never friends. I was simply your pet project. Someone you were going to groom to be just like you so you could expand your little circle of influence.”

Julie shook her head in protest. “I wanted to help you. I mentored you, sure, but I did so out of friendship, not as a self-gratifying ego boost.”

But Kelli’s words had planted a tiny seed of doubt.

Hadn’t Julie felt so proud every time Kelli had gotten praised in a staff meeting?

Hadn’t she been thrilled every time Kelli had written a particularly good article? Had that pride been for Kelli’s sake?

Or for her own?

“Okay, then why not just talk to me about it or keep your distance? Why’d you have to go all Mean Girls? And Justin? Was he really necessary?”

Kelli had the grace to blush. “Justin was … a mistake. He’d come in looking for you that one day after work, and he seemed kind of flirty, and it just … happened.”

It was a pathetic excuse. Julie had no tolerance for cheaters, no matter who’d done the initiating. But Justin hadn’t mattered to Julie back then, and he certainly didn’t matter now. Just another playboy passing through her life. He’d also just happened to pass through Kelli’s vagina on the way.

“And the story notes? I suppose that was Justin’s idea too?”

Kelli started to look fidgety. “That wasn’t planned either. It’s just that you came in and caught us, and you looked so damned smug and righteous about the whole thing. But the thing that really got me was how disbelieving you were. As though you couldn’t believe someone would prefer me to you. And I picked up your story notes to hand them to you, but you ran out, and I just—”

Julie held up a hand. “Okay, I get it. You hated my guts and the opportunity was dropped in your lap. But what about this?” Julie pulled the newspaper out of her purse and waved it in Kelli’s face. “What possible excuse is there? You completely ratted me out. Destroyed my story.”

You destroyed my life. But she wouldn’t give Kelli-with-an-i that kind of satisfaction.

“And to Allen Carsons of all people? Do you have any idea what Camille will do if she finds out?”

“I’ll be fired,” Kelli said, biting her lip.

Julie snorted. “That’ll be the least of your worries. Your name will be blacklisted in this city. What could possibly be worth the risk?”

Kelli opened her mouth. Shut it again.

And then, to Julie’s great surprise, the younger woman promptly burst into tears. “I know I shouldn’t have done it. I just … you really should have given up the story, Julie. You weren’t qualified. I was. If you’d been focused on the magazine instead of yourself …”