Page 55 of Biker Orc Baby Daddy
"Please, just let me?—"
"Out." She points to the door. "Now."
I should argue. Should explain. Should beg for a chance to make this right.
But Orry's watching me with those crystal eyes and Cecie's hand shakes where she grips him and I realize:I'm the crisis. The variable that doesn't fit. The error in her carefully balanced equation.
So I leave.
The office is torture.
Colum talks about plaza foot traffic and tenant satisfaction scores and upcoming community events. I nod. Take notes. Pretend my life isn't imploding.
"You listening?"
"Hmm?"
Colum leans back in his ridiculous ergonomic chair. Studies me with that unsettling perception he usually saves for investment pitches.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Gunther."
"It's personal."
"Ah." He grins. "Cecie, right? I saw you two chatting. Thought there might be?—"
"Stop." I close my laptop harder than necessary. "Please. Just stop."
His grin fades. "Okay. Seriously. What happened?"
I could lie. Should lie. But Colum's been my friend since I started here and right now I need someone who understands the ethical nightmare I'm standing in.
"If an employee. Hypothetically." My hands won't stay still. I fold them. Unfold them. Grip the desk. "If an employee had a personal relationship with a tenant. And there was a potential conflict of interest. How would you. What would the appropriate?—"
"Did you sleep with Cecie?" Colum's eyebrows shoot up. "Because honestly, good for you, but yeah, that's. Hm. That's a thing."
"It's not like that."
"Then what's it like?"
My fingers rest on my keyboard. At the spreadsheet still open on my screen showing plaza revenue projections and tenant contract renewals and all the professional, logical,safedata that makes sense.
Unlike fatherhood. Unlike waking up one morning and discovering you have a son.
"I slept with her a year ago." The admission scrapes out. "Before she was a tenant. Before I knew who she was. I was. I wasn't myself."
Colum goes very still. "Ridge."
My stomach drops. "You knew?"
"I suspected." He leans forward. "The henna was terrible, by the way. And you left your glasses on my desk that night. I put two and two together." A pause. "But you're saying Cecie is?—"
"The woman from that night. Yes."
"And she didn't recognize you?"
