Total pages in book: 221
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 213317 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1067(@200wpm)___ 853(@250wpm)___ 711(@300wpm)
Claire doesn’t return Janie’s happy exclamation, though. She has a frost in her eyes as she asks her for some alone time with me, saying she needs to talk about some things.
My God, the fucking panic in me.
I don’t know how the hell I hold it together enough to smile at Janie and say, sure, head off. Get home early and put your feet up.
“Cool, ok, see you Monday,” Janie says, shooting me a WTF expression that I brush off with a shrug, like I’m oblivious.
But I won’t see her on Monday. I can tell that as soon as the door closes behind Janie and Claire lets her stare meet mine. We wait a few seconds on instinct, listening to Janie’s heels march away.
“How can I help?” I ask, but it’s a stupid question.
I feel like an absolute piece of shit as her bottom lip trembles, and rage burns like a volcano in her eyes.
“Don’t you dare ask me that!” she screeches. “You know exactly why I’m fucking here!”
So, what can I say?
What can I do?
I say sorry and beg for forgiveness – a forgiveness that will never be granted. I tell her I didn’t know Lee was her fiancé, or I’d never have done it, but that makes jack shit difference, since she hates me too much to care.
I ask her how she found out and she says that’s NONE OF MY FUCKING BUSINESS, and she’s right. It’s not.
“How many other clients’ fiancés have you fucked?!” she asks me, and I hate myself, because in truth, I can’t answer that question. I haven’t got a fucking clue.
She screams that she hates me and never wants to see me again, and if I have even a shred of decency in my filthy fucking excuse for a soul I’ll hand in my notice right here and now.
“I’m trying to work things out with Lee,” she tells me. “So make the most of it, you filthy slut, and quit now, so I don’t have to tell anyone. You don’t deserve to be in this place, so get the fuck out of here! Just fuck off from this office, and don’t you dare come back! Janie can handle the rest of it since she’s not a slutty piece of shit, like you.”
She’s right on that. Just like everything else she’s said.
So here comes my decision, right here and now. Here comes my right moment, right here and now.
I click send on my resignation letter, with another attempt at an apology to Claire, and then I gather my things from my desk through my tears as she storms away, knowing full well this is my career gone for ever.
And then I sob all the way home.
Cass
“Did you tell her?!” I scream at Ant when I storm through the front door to find him standing there. “Did you tell Claire?!”
I can barely see him through the tears, but I can see enough that he looks shocked, shaking his head as he tries to fathom what the fuck is going on. Does he not know? Really?
He steps forward and puts his hands on my shoulders to steady me, but I don’t let him pull me close. I shrug him off, backing away against the wall.
“What the hell’s happened?!” he asks me, and I slip down to the floor, too shaky and hurt to stay on my feet.
He crouches down right by me, his face full of concern.
“Baby, what happened? Talk to me, please.”
I don’t know if I can get my words out, but I try.
“Claire…” I say, hating how the tears keep streaming. “She came in… and she knows… she knows about me and Lee…”
“Shit,” Ant says. “What a fucking cunt, landing you in the shit like that.”
So much of me wants to scream that Lee isn’t the fucking cunt, ANT is. Ant was the fucking cunt for not choosing the people in the mattress room more carefully. And worse than that… if he did it. If he was the one who did this… if he was the one who told her…
“Wait,” Ant says, looking suspicious of me. I see him trying to read me, and his expression shifts. “Please don’t tell me you think I told Claire that her fiancé is a cheating prick? You wouldn’t think that, would you?”
I can’t speak, just stare at him. Weighing him up.
“Jesus Christ, Cass. Do you think that? Would you think that for one single second?”
His eyes are so hurt, so shocked, and I feel like a stupid paranoid bitch for even thinking that.
“No. Of course I wouldn’t.”
I’m such a fucking liar.
“Good,” he says. “Thank fuck for that. Because if you did… if you would assume that of me…”
I shake my head. “No! I wouldn’t!”
He doesn’t look convinced, so I’m desperate to reassure him. I reach out and take his hands.