#Bossholes, page 26
I need answers.
I need to have a conversation with Kinsley, a conversation I should have had with her yesterday instead of assuming I had all the facts.
Last night, I tried. After getting our asses handed to us by all the senior partners—partners who are on our executive committee—I tried to go to her place. Or, I guess I should say Brantley’s place because by the time I got home, she was gone. Her, Colin, all their personal belongings. Everything was gone.
Seeing her empty bedroom was like being gutted, like having my heart ripped out of my chest and thrown in the garbage.
Not that I can blame her. We did this.
But what if we were wrong?
I can't help the devil on my shoulder, whispering in my ear. If I can’t talk to her, really look into her eyes and see her for who she really is, how will I know for sure?
I close my eyes and take a deep breath, one that does nothing to calm the storm raging inside me, and for the hundredth time this morning, I stop outside Kinsley’s office.
There’s no trace of her anywhere; it’s completely generic right down to the white painted walls. All her ridiculous animal prints are gone. There’s nothing on her desk aside from a computer and keyboard. The only sign she ever worked here was a pen I found on the floor early this morning. It said Motherfucking Monday, and while it’s Friday, the sentiment is still the same.
This is a mess.
A huge fucking mess.
“Don’t know why you’re standing there like a lost puppy.” Brantley comes out of his office, his eyes narrowed; not on me, but on the desk behind me. “The temp agency agreed to send us someone on Monday, and everything should go back to normal.”
Normal? Does any of this really seem normal? Fuck. Of course it doesn’t, but this is what Brantley does. He ignores and deflects.
“I couldn’t give a flying fuck about a temp.” I take a few steps forward, getting right in his face. My voice is low, but my words are scathing. “What if we were wrong? What if we lost the best thing that ever happened to us? What if we never see her again?”
“Then good riddance.” His nostrils flare as he leans toward me. “We weren’t wrong. Everything points to her. Everything. She was working with Thomas to tear this firm apart. She tore us apart.”
I force myself to take a few seconds before responding, to try to rein in my anger, but it doesn’t work. “I know what the evidence says, but I heard her yesterday. That’s more than I can say for you. We won’t even know if Colin is okay. How can you live with that?”
“You think I don’t care?” He grips my tie and pulls me forward, but I stand my ground. “I’ve tried to call the hospital countless times, but they won’t tell me anything. I promised that kid I’d be there today, and I’m not. I’m here, trying to hold myself together because I know if I go there, if I show up at the hospital… I…I don’t think I can even look at her right now.” He sighs and lets go of me as he takes a step back.
“But what if someone else is behind everything? What if we were wrong?”
He hangs his head, his shoulders deflating with the rest of him. “Well, I guess I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself.” He stays like that for a couple beats, but then his gaze raises to meet mine. “Come on; we have to meet with Ember. You need to get your head in the game.”
I snort a laugh. Yeah, right. I’m so distracted I don’t know which direction is up. But yeah, I’ll get it together. No problem.
When we get to the conference room, it’s just Ember and Daisy and surprisingly, Ember isn’t going through the cabinets looking for liquor. Her hands are resting on the table, folded on top of each other, and she looks more alert than she ever has. Great time to sober up.
“Mrs. Lynn, thank you so much for meeting with us on such short notice.” Brantley breezes in and takes a seat across from them.
I trudge in behind him, shut the door, and sit next to him. “We’re very sorry about the media circus that must be going on in your life right now. We believe the details of our case have been leaked from someone in the office.”
Ember nods, her nails clacking on the table as she looks between us. “I posted those videos in the first place. This isn’t all on you.”
Brantley inclines his head toward her. “While I appreciate you taking responsibility for the videos, this never should have happened. We are doing all we can to make sure something like this doesn’t occur again. We’re aware of the challenge this could cost us going forward, and while we understand if you want to find another attorney, we will work tirelessly to ensure we have the strongest case possible before we go to court.”
Daisy puts down her phone and flips her hair over her shoulder. “And the person responsible? Do you know who it was?”
“They’ve been fired,” Brantley responds at the same time I say, “We’d rather keep their identity private for now.”
Although it won’t take long for Daisy to put two and two together. Brantley was in his office with Thomas at the end of our last meeting, but I remember how friendly she and Kinsley were with each other. They’re obviously friends, and if she doesn’t already know what went down, she soon will.
Ember continues clacking those nails, one then another in rapid succession. “I trust you, and I want to continue working together. Plus, I feel like we understand each other. I’m currently dating two men and the two of you and your brother are dating the same woman.” At our shocked expressions she tilts her head, examining us more closely. “No? Well, can’t believe everything you read, I guess.”
“I guess so,” I grumble, completely ignoring the curious looks Daisy is shooting my way.
Brantley gives her a tight smile and goes back to the case at hand. I’m sure they’re talking about some important shit, I’m sure I should be paying better attention, but I don’t have it in me.
My gaze keeps going back to Daisy, and I can’t help but wonder how long her and Kinsley have known each other. Are they good friends? Would she know how Colin is doing? Would she know if Kinsley had been double crossing us the entire time she’s been working here?
My gut says no, and it’s usually right.
Which means I need to do some more digging.
FIFTY-FOUR
Kinsley
For the fifth time in as many minutes, I flit around the bed in June’s guestroom, adjusting the sheets around Colin, running a hand across his forehead, and making sure his phone is within reach when he wakes up.
He’s snoring softly, the white bandage wrapped around his head a stark contrast to the dark gray pillowcase beneath him. Surgery was a success, but with the anesthesia still in his system, his doctor said he could sleep the rest of the day.
Of course he asked about Brantley and the other guys before they wheeled him back. I lied and said there was an emergency with one of their clients. Just like I lied when I said we had to leave our gifted apartment because June wanted to be there for us.
I feel terrible about keeping the truth from him, but he’s already going through so much and I don’t want to add more to his plate.
It’s bad enough they’ve disappointed me. I should have known better. I should have fought harder to keep my distance from them. I should have done a lot of things differently, yet here we are. Because apparently I’m a walking cliche.
I’m a woman who fell for her bosses, the first ones she slept with. It should have been casual sex. That’s it. But I got all tangled up in them, and then I lost my heart. And if I’m done lying, a piece of myself.
My eyes burn, and the breath stutters from my lungs.
All the good memories I have of the three of them are tarnished. The easy smiles, the compliments. They made me feel special, like I was the only woman that mattered.
I take a deep breath and then another, forcing myself to breathe, to put one foot in front of the other.
Colin shifts, and I check his bandage which hasn’t moved and his breathing which still seems good.
I’m hovering, I know I’m hovering, but being busy keeps the inevitable wave of emotion at bay. Once it hits, I’m worried it’s going to swallow me whole.
“He’s fine, Kins. We’ll check on him in thirty minutes.” June is leaning against the door frame, watching me. Waiting.
I sigh and close my eyes for several beats.
We all knew this was coming. There’s no way June was going to let me mope all day without forcing me to have a conversation. One I do not want to have. Denial and ignorance are my new friends, and I’d like to hang out with them a little bit longer.
But no, the serious, no-nonsense look she’s giving me tells me my time is up.
Very reluctantly, I walk toward her, hanging my head or maybe my entire body. Either way, I’m making it as clear as I can that yes, I am following her, but it is under distress.
June leads me to her couch and pushes me down with little effort. She vanishes for a minute but comes back quickly armed with two bottles of water, a bag of chocolates, and tissues. “Talk. And then I’ll get us some wine. If you’re good, maybe the whole bottle.”
“Are you sure you want to do that?” I snatch the chocolates, unwrap two, and shove them in my mouth. “We could watch a movie. Read in total silence. Stare at the ceiling. Basically anything that doesn’t involve talking.”
Her eyes narrow, staying on me as she lowers herself on the other side of the couch and tosses me a water. “Did I ask any questions yesterday when you said you needed a temporary place to stay? Nope, I sure as hell didn’t. Instead, I got half the football team to quickly move you and Colin out of that gorgeous apartment and ignored your silent tears.” She pauses, and before I can open my mouth to give my denial, she points her water at me. “Yes, I saw them when you were trying to hide in the bathroom.”
“I wasn’t hiding in the bathroom,” I grumble, eating another chocolate. “I had to pee.”
She rolls her eyes, stealing the bag from my hand. “For twenty minutes. Please.”
“Maybe I had a lot of water.”
June doesn’t respond, only stares at me. When I don’t respond, her pointed glare hardens, and she quirks her brow.
“Fine,” I grind out, stealing the chocolate back. “There’s been some shit going on at the firm. Someone has been giving confidential client information to the press and taking pictures of me and the bosses to undermine them. They weren’t terribly incriminating photos, but it was enough to arouse suspicion and question their professionalism. It seems like someone wants them to lose clients.”
Although, if that were the case, shouldn’t they have sold more information? They have several celebrity clients at the moment, yet they only leaked information on two of them. Unless, it was a vendetta against me, that someone did just enough to make sure my fate was sealed. If the three of them hadn’t fired me, the senior partners would have demanded it.
“And they asked you to move out because of it? They’re the ones who wanted the relationship.” Her tone is sharp, and there’s no doubt in my mind she’d march right up to the office and kick all three of their asses.
Heck, I have half a mind to let her.
“They probably don’t know I left.” After everything was said and done, they have no reason to drop into “my” apartment to check on me. When and if they do, they’ll find the keys by the front door and nothing else. I clutch the chocolate to my chest and look down at the ground, my heart squeezing. “Everything looks like it came from my computer, but I never did any of those things.”
She scoffs and crosses her arms. “Of course you didn’t. I’m sure there are other people who have access to your office, right?”
“Of course, not that any of them asked.” My reply is quick, but then I pause, staying silent for several seconds as my mouth dries and my throat clogs. Those damn emotions, the ones I’ve fought so hard to bury, wash over me, threatening to pull me under.
I try to think of anything, anyone else, but I can’t get the image of them accosting me in Maverick’s office out of my head. Mav looked so betrayed. Wyatt acted like I was a complete stranger. Brantley was hard, cold, detached.
They had zero faith in me.
We may not have known each other for long, but I thought I knew them. I thought they were good guys.
My chest is heavy, like my heart is pushing against my ribs, trying to free itself from me, from the pain. My eyes sting, and I feel like I’m about to crack open.
I’m so stupid. So naive.
I was wrong about so many things.
I grab a tissue as the first tear falls and then the next. No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop them from rolling down my cheeks, one right after another. “They didn’t even come to me and freaking ask if I did it. They…they just assumed it was me. Acted like they didn’t know me at all.”
“But you would never do something like that. Holy shit, Kins. I’m so sorry.” She scoots closer and pulls me in for a hug. “You’re not still working for them, are you?”
I shake my head, bury it against her shoulder, and take a deep breath, swallowing down the sob threatening to break free. “No, I quit. They were probably going to fire me, but there was no way I was going to step a single foot back in that office ever again.”
“I don’t blame you. Not at all. Have they tried to contact you?”
“No. And I have no idea what to tell Colin.” I pull back, snatch several tissues, and wipe my nose. “They were supposed to be here today. They were supposed to…”
The sob breaks free, and I’m a snotty, blubbery mess. None of this makes any sense. Not the short amount of time it took me to fall for these men. Not the blatant distrust. And certainly not this hollow spot in my chest, this aching hole of nothingness.
I feel like a part of me is missing, like without them I’ll never be whole, but I have to figure out a way to move on. I can’t let them destroy me.
FIFTY-FIVE
Wyatt
Nothing is right anymore.
This office used to be my second home, and now I can’t wait to get away. Kinsley’s ghost is haunting me around every turn, every corner. I see her at every meeting, at the copy machine, and every single fucking time I walk by her office.
Of course, she’s not there.
The temp agency fell through, so we have another legal secretary we’ve borrowed from the junior partners. While she’s done nothing wrong, she shouldn’t be here. It’s not right. None of it is.
My head and my heart are at war, and while I know we made the right decision, I’ve never felt so terrible in my entire life.
I’m barely eating; I can’t sleep. I’m falling apart at the seams.
Why did she have to be so damn perfect? She was smart, funny, and put up with our bullshit. But I guess she had to be perfect to lure us in, to snare us in her trap.
So, why do I feel this burning need to see her again? To make sure she’s okay?
Because I’m a fucking moron, that’s why.
“Hey.” Maverick raps his knuckles on my door and pushes it open the rest of the way. “Can we talk for a minute?”
I nod and scoot back from my desk. It’s not like I was going to be getting any work done anyway. I haven’t been able to concentrate, not since everything went down two weeks ago. “What’s up?”
“Do you know where Brantley is?”
“No idea.” He’s not at the office; I’m sure about that. He’s barely been here the past two weeks.
He won’t talk to me, and after the senior partners questioned his integrity at our last meeting, he won’t talk to them either. He’s been radio silent all day, and I’m worried. This situation with Kinsley, the betrayal, hit him the hardest. He blames himself for letting her get too close, for giving in to his attraction.
“Fuck.” He comes in with another curse, flops down in the chair across from me, and gives me a pointed look. “I was hoping to share this with both of you.”
My stomach flops, and I’m on the edge of my seat, literally and figuratively. “What is it?”
Maverick runs his fingers down the length of his tie and glances around my empty office. I’m not sure if he thinks Brantley is hiding behind the fake ficus in the corner of the room, or if he’s expecting the boogeyman to jump out and scare him. “I’ve been having Craig in IT do a little afterhours digging.”
“Okay,” I say slowly, anxious for Maverick to get to the point. They’re the ones who found the damning evidence against Kinsley. They were positive the files were accessed from her computer and the information was circulated from her email.
But then her parting words float to the surface of my brain. Did either of you assholes even consider someone was setting me up to take the fall, or do we only care about justice in the courtroom?
He leans over my desk and rests his elbows on top of some notes I had been looking through…yesterday? The day before? “I had them check out when that client information was accessed. Obviously, she was working on those cases with us, so it wouldn’t be unusual for her to be digging around during business hours.”
My damn traitorous heart hammers against my rib cage, and I’m not sure why he stopped talking, but I really need him to spit it all out. “And?”
“When we really started paying attention to the timing, our server was accessed after she’d left for the day. With us. Those files were accessed and sent from her computer, but there’s no fucking way she was the one doing it. She was with us the entire fucking time. The night we were watching movies with Colin and then when she was at the bar with you and Brant.” He runs a hand down his face, his eyes closing momentarily, and when they open, they’re laced with pain and regret.
She was with us. She couldn’t have done it. And we—no, I assumed it was all true after I found her in the coffee shop with Thomas Anderson. The meeting that was likely as innocent as she claimed.
