Chapter Three: The Boss's Secret Stash

Evelyn

The forty-eighth floor of Vale Global was almost completely dark when the elevator doors opened, for the first time in four years, I was grateful for it.

But now there were no ringing phones, no assistants rushing between offices, no executives arguing over numbers they should have checked before sending them to Adrian.

No one to look at my swollen eyes and ask if I was okay because I wasn't.

I was three weeks away from my wedding, carrying an overnight bag filled with clothes I'd barely looked at while packing, and somewhere across the city, my fiancé was probably still standing in the apartment we'd shared for four years wondering how to explain that he'd been fucking my best friend for two.

I stepped out of the elevator to see the reception area was deserted. Only the security lights remained on, leaving long shadows across the glass walls. Outside, Manhattan or what looked like the entire damn world from forty-eight floors up continued glowing as though mine hadn't just ended.

I hated that.

Cars were still moving, restaurants were still serving dinner, people were probably laughing somewhere.

Crazy thing was that some woman was probably getting engaged tonight, I almost laughed. “Good luck.”

My voice echoed through the empty office, I reached my desk and dropped my bag beside it and everything was exactly as I'd left it.

My laptop sat in the center, the Meridian file was stacked neatly beside it, there was a yellow sticky note reminding me to confirm Adrian's Friday dinner with the Singapore investors.

And beneath one of the files was the corner of a bridal magazine, I had bought it during lunch yesterday when my biggest wedding crisis had been whether ivory tablecloths looked too yellow beneath warm lighting.

I pulled it free and a bride smiled at me from the cover with her perfect dress and flowers.

YOUR DREAM WEDDING STARTS HERE!

“Fuck you.”

I threw it into the trash and then I stood there because I had absolutely no idea what to do.

I didn’t know if it was Daniel’s or Sienna’s betrayal that hurt more, I remember when I was terrified about marriage and wondering whether I was ready to spend the rest of my life with one person, I'd sat on her kitchen counter drinking wine while she told me Daniel adored me.

The memory hit so violently that I stood again. “Nope.”

Absolutely fucking not, I was not doing this sober I opened my bottom drawer looking for alcohol but found nothing, the second drawer was just pens, notebooks, emergency painkillers and a granola bar that had probably been there since the previous fiscal year.

No alcohol obviously because apparently Past Evelyn had believed Present Evelyn would never require emergency alcohol at work.

Past Evelyn was an idiot.

I looked toward the staff kitchen, there might be wine even if its cheap wine or probably some leftover bottle from a company celebration.

I took two steps and stopped, then slowly turned toward the enormous glass office across from mine.

Adrian Vale.

I knew something about my boss that most people in this building didn't, Adrian had a secret stash.

I'd discovered it two years ago while looking for a file he'd insisted was in the cabinet behind his desk, the file hadn't been there what I found was approximately enough alcohol to anesthetize a rhinoceros herd.

He'd walked in while I was staring at it, instead he'd calmly removed the folder from a completely different drawer and said, You didn't see that.

I'd told him, See what?

That had been the end of it until tonight.

Technically, going through my boss's private liquor cabinet without permission was inappropriate, then again, so was sleeping with your fiancée's best friend for two years, apparently society had abandoned rules today.

I walked toward Adrian's office. “Sorry, boss.”

Then I pushed open the door, my first thought was that it smelled like him.

That was my first thought, whatever ridiculously expensive cologne Adrian wore lightly enough that you usually noticed it only when he stood too close.

Not that I noticed.

I switched on one lamp instead of the overhead lights and his office suddenly became cozy, even though the office was intimidating with the, massive desk, leather chairs, floor-to-ceiling windows, ginormous bookshelves and a sitting area nobody except important clients was allowed to use.

Everything perfectly arranged because Adrian hated disorder.

I looked at my overnight bag hanging from my shoulder. “Must be nice.”

I dropped it directly onto his pristine sofa then I went hunting.

The cabinet was exactly where I remembered and it was locked, I tried the handle twice anyway, because betrayal apparently hadn't made me smarter.

“Come on.”

I couldn’t help but smile because there was one small problem with hiding things from the woman who had managed your life for four years.

I knew where Adrian kept almost everything, his passport, spare cuff links, emergency phone, the code to his home security system.

So I walked to his desk and I ran my fingers beneath the third drawer and I felt metal touch my fingertip.

“There you are.” I pulled the tiny key free.

If Adrian ever discovered exactly how much I knew about him, he'd probably have me killed or promoted, it was difficult to tell with him.

The lock clicked and I opened the cabinet.

“Holy shit.” I'd forgotten how serious the collection was, he had whiskey, scotch, cognac even rum.

Most of the labels meant nothing to me, but everything looked old enough to have survived at least one world war, I chose a dark bottle of aged rum because it looked expensive.

And because Adrian would probably hate me drinking it, I found a glass then stopped myself.

“No.”

Tonight was bigger than a glass so I took the bottle with me, his chair was waiting behind the desk and I stared at that too.

I'd sat in Adrian's chair exactly once, he'd walked in looked at me and then at his chair, I'd stood before he even spoke.

Tonight, I sat, then leaned back, the leather was ridiculously comfortable.

“Of course.”

I looked around. “So this is what it feels like to be God.”

Nothing answered, I unscrewed the rum, took a mouthful and immediately regretted every decision I'd made since entering the building.

“Jesus!” I coughed because my throat and chest burned, possibly my ancestors burned.

I stared accusingly at the bottle. “What the fuck?”

This was what rich people drank voluntarily?

I tried again with a smaller this time it was still horrible but made me feel warm.

I leaned back to see the city stretched beneath me, forty-eight floors below, thousands of people were moving around like tiny dots.

From up here, problems probably looked small, maybe that was why Adrian liked it.

I took another drink. “What does it feel like being you?”

I glanced toward the empty chair opposite me.

Then deepened my voice to sound like him. “Evelyn.”

I frowned dramatically. “These projections are unacceptable.”

I took another drink. “Fix them.”

Another. “Cancel lunch.”

Another. “Tell Germany I don't care that it's Christmas.”

I paused because he hadn't actually said that, but he'd come close.

I laughed, it was sad that this was the first time I'd laughed since opening my bedroom door.

That realization killed it.

I stared at the bottle.

No.

Not thinking about them.

That was the entire point.

I took another drink.

Then another.

The rum stopped tasting quite so terrible.

Interesting development.

I kicked off my heels.

One landed beside the desk.

The other disappeared beneath a chair.

I didn't care.

I put my feet on Adrian's desk.

That would piss him off.

I smiled.

“You know what, Vale?”

I looked at the empty office.

“I think I finally understand you.”

Silence.

“You don't have relationships.”

I pointed the bottle toward the windows.

“Genius.”

Another drink.

“Everyone says you're cold.”

Drink.

“Emotionally unavailable.”

Drink.

“Terrifying.”

I considered that.

“That's true.”

I drank again.

“But maybe you're the smartest person I know.”

My smile faded.

Because Adrian didn't have a fiancée.

He didn't have a best friend who knew everything about him.

He didn't trust people.

I'd always thought that was sad.

Now?

“Maybe you're onto something.”

My voice came out quieter.

I looked down at my left hand.

The pale mark where my engagement ring had sat for two years was still there.

I rubbed it.

It didn't disappear.

“Two years.”

I whispered it.

My chest squeezed.

No.

I lifted the bottle.

“Absolutely fucking not.”

I drank.

We were not crying.

I had cried enough.

I climbed out of Adrian's chair and sat on his desk instead.

Why?

No idea.

Drunk Evelyn apparently preferred higher ground.

I looked at his computer at his perfectly aligned stationery.

Finally i touched the expensive black pen sitting exactly parallel to the edge of the desk and gasped.

“Scandal.”

A laugh escaped me. “Look at that, Adrian.”

I moved another pen.

“Chaos.”

Another.

“Anarchy.”

I was definitely getting drunk.

Good.

I picked up one of his paperweights and examined it.

“Do you know what happened to me tonight?”

The paperweight remained unsympathetic.

“My fiancé fucked my best friend.”

I frowned.

“For two years.”

Saying it aloud hurt.

I drank again.

“They were probably fucking while I was choosing flowers.”

Another.

“Maybe when we ordered invitations.”

Another.

“Definitely while she was helping me choose lingerie for my honeymoon.”

My eyes burned.

I swallowed hard.

“That's funny.”

It wasn't.

“She chose red.”

My voice cracked.

“Daniel likes red.”

The bottle lowered.

Oh.

Oh, God.

Had she known?

Of course she'd known.

Maybe that's why she'd pushed the red set so hard.

I suddenly couldn't breathe properly.

“Fuck.”

I pressed my hand against my mouth.

No.

No crying.

Not here.

Not again.

I closed my eyes.

Breathed.

Then took another drink.

When I opened them, the room had softened around the edges.

“You know what your biggest problem is, Adrian?”

I asked the empty office.

“You're an asshole.”

“But you're an honest asshole.”

I thought about that.

“Mostly.”

I pointed toward his empty chair.

“If you hated me, you'd tell me.”

I nodded to myself.

“You'd probably schedule a meeting specifically to tell me.”

That made me laugh.

“Subject line: Evelyn Hart. Performance review. You're unbearable.”

I took another drink.

“Maybe that's better.”

My smile slowly disappeared.

“Maybe it's better when people tell you they don't love you.”

The office went very quiet.

“Instead of saying it every day while fucking somebody else.”

A tear slipped down my cheek.

I wiped it away angrily.

“Traitor.”

I wasn't sure whether I meant the tear, Daniel or Sienna.

Probably all three.

I tipped the bottle toward my mouth again.

“Put that down.”

I screamed.

The bottle nearly flew from my hand.

I spun around.

Adrian Vale stood in the doorway.

For several seconds, neither of us moved.

Oh.

Fuck.

He wasn't supposed to be here.

His suit jacket was gone, his tie loosened, sleeves rolled to his forearms. He had one hand still resting on the door handle.

And he was staring at me.

Barefoot.

Sitting on his desk.

Holding his rum.

I smiled. “Hi.”

His eyes moved slowly around the office.

First the open liquor cabinet and then my shoes, my overnight bag, his rearranged pens.

The bottle, finally at me.

I knew I was cooked.