Page 107 of Not Safe for Work

I can’t believe that just happened. I’ve just lost everything for good.

I’ve had some pretty bad days, but this is one of the worst of my life.

A toilet flushes and a woman steps out of the stall, pulling a large suitcase behind her. She’s tall and blond and gorgeous and worst is relative, I suppose, because the woman is Hannah.

I can’t tear my eyes away as she turns on the faucet to wash her hands. After a few seconds, she notices me.

“Can I help you?” she asks.

Of course she doesn’t recognize me. I’ve always assumed I was beneath her notice.

“Sorry. I’m Trishara. I work with your… my… I work with Rafe.”

She frowns as she shakes off her hands and studies me. “Oh, right. You’re the one he had to share a room with.”

I’m not sure why, but I’m surprised she knows this. Something about that feels okay. He told her he was staying with me. He’s a single man. There was no reason for him to hide it.

But what’s going on?

“What are you doing here?” I ask.

Hannah grins and faces the mirror before digging out a tube of lip gloss from her purse. “I’m surprising Rafe.”

“But you broke up.” It comes out harsher than I intend.

She offers me a sharp look, annoyance flashing over her expression. “He’s just behaving like a typical man. Get too close, and you know how they get scared. They’re like kittens.” She spreads gloss on her lips and then screws on the cap. “He just needed some time, but things will be fine with us. I got David’s assistant to change his plane ticket and booked a room for us for a few nights. It’ll be like a makeup honeymoon.”

My stomach heaves, climbing up my throat.

I’m going to kill Belinda. Slowly. Excruciatingly.

Hannah hops on her toes and beams as my heart falls through my feet.

Things will be fine with them? What happened when she called last night? Did they reconcile?

No wonder Rafe pulled away this morning.

“Have you been crying?” she asks, squinting.

Hannah’s presence sucked up all of my tears, but my face is still flushed, and my makeup is still a mess.

I turn to the mirror and try to clean up. “Yeah, some asshole made a pass at me.”

Hannah tuts and places a hand on a slender hip. “Hmm. I guess you’re pretty for an Indian girl.”

I go entirely still. I’m so stunned by the awful infinite layers of that comment that I can’t even speak as she checks her hair in the mirror.

“So, can you take me to him?”

I blink. Is she talking to me? “Excuse me?”

“You’re sharing a room, right? They wouldn’t tell me the number at the front desk, and he’s not answering his phone, so I was deciding what to do when, luckily, you walked in here.”

I stare at her. I’m numb. Broken from the inside and out.

“Hello?” she asks when I don’t reply.

I nod. I have no fight in me left.