Her Silent Revenge novel Chapter 14

"I don't need your help with my laundry, thank you." Harsh, but necessary. Otherwise, I might say something fantastically stupid. "Why don't you dip out early, considering the circumstances? You've had enough introduction for one day, and there's nothing here that can't wait for tomorrow."

For a second, her eyes narrow, like she wants to argue back. Then her expression goes slack.

"Okay. Maybe that would be best. I'm sorry again for the first impression. I really blew it."

I wish her hyper-caffeinated kid was still the reason why.

Only, the kid who doused me in lukewarm chocolate has nothing on a freak coincidence dredged up straight from hell.

"Next time, you'll make a better one," I growl. Lame as hell, sure, but I have to start un-fucking the damage somewhere. "I have another meeting to attend, so I'll see you soon."

I don't bother offering to show her out when she knows the way. And if she doesn't, she'll figure it out.

I need to clear my fucking head and figure out if there's a way to salvage this chaos without mauling my pride—or hers.

Because it's vastly bigger than me and the girl whose soul I rocked years ago.

I need to find out what this means for our company's crown jewel going forward.

The Cardinal is too big to fail, and I'll be damned if I let a clash of personalities bring it down.

SALEM

My one-night stand is my boss.

The biggest life-scorching mistake I've ever made is my boss. The father of my child is my boss.

Inwardly, I'm screaming, and I can't show it.

Because the handsome stranger who turned my life upside down without ever knowing it is my flipping cockamamie boss, and there's nothing I can do about it.

This is the sort of Twilight Zone coincidence that's only supposed to happen in movies and stay there.

But this is real life and I'm hilariously screwed. I'm too paralyzed to even laugh.

I linger on the rooftop after he leaves, still holding the dirty towel in my hands like it's the only thing tethering me to reality.

It's definitely ruined, just like he said.

Just like this shiny new job after a morning that's been one long cataclysm after the next. Except now they all pale in comparison to finding out Grumpybutt is my unknown baby daddy.

"Mommy? Is everything okay?" Arlo asks, his eyes wide. It's so not okay.

I'm pretty sure this day is the textbook definition of anti-okay.

He stares at me with those big blue eyes, just like Patton Rory's.

"That's right, big guy. Good job." I lead him back to the meeting room and hand him a pen and more paper. Next time—if our lovely babysitter ducks out on us again—I'm bringing his tablet.

Screw the recommended screen time.

When I'm at work, I need to focus, and he needs something to do for entertainment besides drawing unflattering pictures of my boss.

The Grumpybutt portrait is still on the table, right where we left it. Wincing, I give it a quick glance as I fish my laptop out of my bag.

Today was supposed to be an introduction, but after this morning, I need to make a good impression.

Or, you know, try to paper over this disaster.

Ideally, without letting him know he's been a daily factor in my life for half a decade.

This string of horrendous luck has to end sometime, doesn't it? Maybe I'm due for some good.

Maybe he'll come into work tomorrow and see what a fab job I've done and forget about today.

I am, apparently, a girl who daydreams miracles.

While Arlo scribbles—drawing more pictures of Patton Rory breathing fire, no doubt—I look over the operating fund. Even our quick, messy tour showed me this place specializes in personal touches.