I gulp. I shouldn’t be surprised at his question. He’s made it clear he likes to play with my ass. “No.”
“Do you remember the instrument I stroked you with while you were blindfolded?”
“Yeah. It felt cool against me.”
“Did you enjoy it?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know what it was?”
“How could I? I was blindfolded.”
His lips twitch. Again, I feel like he wants to smile but he’s holding back.
“It was an anal plug.”
“What’s that?”
“A tool. To prepare you for anal sex.”
“Braden, I—”
“Don’t worry. We won’t go there yet. Not until you’re ready.”
I may never be ready for that, but I don’t say so. I don’t want to say or do anything that might deter Braden’s interest in me.
“Go ahead and get dressed,” he says, “and we’ll go over your contract.”
As I dress, Braden picks up his shirt and opens a door on the opposite side of the room. At least a dozen crisp white shirts hang inside. He takes one, puts it on, and then stuffs his original shirt in what looks like a laundry bag.
Why does he have so many clean shirts in his office?
Does he fuck a lot of women in here?
I tell myself it doesn’t matter. That he’s promised to sleep only with me as long as we’re together.
But it does matter.
Jealousy slides through me, not in a raging way but subtler, like a tiny bug inside me that I can’t swat away.
Since Braden won’t talk to me about his past relationships with Addie and others, I fear the bug will never leave me in peace.
Chapter Forty-Seven
Back at the office, I electronically sign the contract that Braden approved and email it to Eugenie. I check email. Better check yesterday’s post again. I log in—
The password doesn’t work. I must have mistyped. Before I type it again, the phone rings.
“Addison Ames’s office.”
“Skye?”
“Yes?”
“It’s Eugenie. I just received the signed contract, and we’re thrilled to have you on board.”
“Great! I’m looking forward to it.”
“We’d like you to do the first post as soon as possible. Today if you can.”
“All right. Do you have any—”
The door to the office opens and then slams. In walks Addie, the Babbler in her clenched fist. “What the hell is this?”
“Skye?” Eugenie asks.
“I’m sorry. Could I call you back? I have a…situation here.”
“Hang up the damned phone!” Addie slams the tabloid down on the desk.
“Sure,” Eugenie says. “But get back to me within the hour, please.”
“I will.” I end the call.
“Poised to become the next sweetheart of Instagram?” Addison glares at me.
“I already know about the article. I never said any of those things, and I have no idea who their alleged source is.”
“Your BFF, no doubt?”
“Tessa? Of course not. Tessa wouldn’t lie about me.”
“Even if they offered her some money?”
“They pay their sources?” I shake my head.
“I don’t know,” she says, “but I wouldn’t put it past them. Just how many calls have you gotten from my clients, Skye?”
“One. Just the one from Eugenie.”
“That’s not what this says.” She points to the rag.
“You can believe me, or you can believe some source,” I say. “Your choice.”
“It doesn’t matter who I believe. You’re the competition now, which means you have a conflict of interest. You’re fired, Skye.”
I widen my eyes. “Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I’m a professional, so you’ll get two weeks’ severance pay, but you’re done here. I already locked you out of my account.”
That explains why the password doesn’t work. “What about tomorrow’s shoot?”
“I’ll handle it myself. Or I’ll hire a new assistant. You’re not indispensable, no matter how much you think you are.”
“All right,” I say.
“You’ll lose in the long run.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Braden. He’ll destroy you. He may make you into a huge influencer, but one day you’ll be wishing you took my advice and stayed away from him.”
“How can I take your advice when you won’t give me any details?”
“Figure it out for yourself. I’m done.” She stomps into her private office but looks over her shoulder. “Pack up your shit and get out of here.” She slams the door.
My flesh goes numb. It’s over? Like this? This was never my dream job, but I did good work for Addie. Not just good work. My best work. It sucks not to be appreciated.
I don’t have a lot of personal things at the office. Everything fits easily in a reusable grocery bag. Before I go, however, I print out Addie’s email contact list before she locks me out of that as well. I won’t go after her clients, but a lot of those contacts are also my contacts, and I’m not about to lose them.
I return Eugenie’s call as soon as I reach my apartment.
“I’m so sorry for the interruption,” I tell her. “Trust me that it will never happen again.”
“Not a problem. Will you be able to do the first post today?”
“Absolutely. Do you have anything you specifically want me to include?”