Chapter 2

Diane agreed without hesitation.

"We don't need the CEO's approval when someone in a nonmanagement role resigns. I'll get it done as soon as I can."

I opened Adrian's social feed again.

He'd changed his profile picture.

It matched Claire's.

Underneath was a new post.

"A woman I went on a blind date with wouldn't leave me alone. Luckily, someone stepped in as my fake girlfriend. She used to be my actual girlfriend, so she's had plenty of practice."

When Claire and I first started dating, I'd kept asking her to use matching profile pictures with me.

She always had a reason to refuse.

Too much trouble. Too childish. People would talk.

Now Claire, who had always used a formal headshot, had replaced it with a cartoon character.

The next day, she called me in her most professional voice.

"You're coming to a client dinner. Pay attention, and make sure you handle the drinks."

That confused me. Claire could drink almost anyone under the table. Why would she need me to cover for her?

Before I could ask, Adrian laughed in the background.

"You still remember I can't drink? I'm impressed.

"Here. You've earned a sip of my coffee."

They laughed together. I stared at nothing and said, "Okay."

At the restaurant, Claire exchanged pleasantries with the prospective partners.

As they discussed the project, she kept signaling for me to take the drinks meant for Adrian.

Someone noticed how close they were and smiled.

"You two make quite a pair. Are you seeing anyone, Claire?"

She glanced at me. Hesitation flickered across her face.

Then we answered together.

"No."

We'd said exactly the same thing. But she turned to stare at me as if I'd said something shocking.

When the others stepped out to the restroom, my phone buzzed.

"Just playing along. Don't take it personally."

I gave a thin smile.

There wasn't much left to take personally.

When it was time to sign the contract, Marlene Voss let her gaze linger on me.

Then her hand settled on my shoulder. She kept touching me, pushing a little farther each time.

I recoiled in disgust and knocked over a glass of red wine.

It spilled onto Adrian's pants.

Claire immediately reached for a handkerchief and began dabbing at the stain.

"What's wrong with you?" she snapped at me. "Why are you suddenly so clumsy?"

Adrian waved it off, looking embarrassed.

"It's just a pair of pants. They'll wash."

She paused, offended on his behalf.

"Aren't these the ones I bought for your birthday? I stood in line forever to get them. Don't you remember?"

She hadn't noticed Marlene groping me.

She'd noticed a stain on something she'd given Adrian.

Of course, she'd told me before that dealing with harassment was part of the job when you worked with clients.

So every time a woman put her hands on me, I'd endured it.

But a mutual friend had once told me what Claire did when another woman asked Adrian for his number. She'd gone after her with a bottle, and the whole thing had ended at a police station.

When I asked Claire about it, she took a sip of her drink, frowned, and claimed she didn't remember.

Yet years later, she remembered every detail of a pair of pants.

Conversation picked up around the table again.

I lowered my head and scrolled through my contacts until I found a number I hadn't used in a long time.

"You said there would always be a job for me. Does that offer still stand?"