Confused and ashamed, I turn my body and start to head toward the door, when a strong hand lands on my shoulder and forces me back around. My body swivels around and into him, landing on his hard chest and staring up into the unwavering eyes of Alexander Asher.

“I never thought I’d find someone like you,” he says. I draw my hand up to his lips to stop him from speaking, but he grabs my finger and pulls it away. “No, Kat, I’ve been thinking about you a lot. I don’t know what is going on with you, with us…” He pauses. “But I can’t lose you.”

His hand holds tight to my cheek, and I try to gently pull away. “I was never yours to lose.” The words are as painful coming off my tongue as they are for him to hear.

He closes his eyes tightly and shakes his head. “No. I need you. I told you that. I need you, any way I can get you.” He opens his eyes and stares through my soul. Full lips so close to mine. I remind myself I can’t lose myself in him again. His words are surprising. I thought he’d be disgusted by me. I thought he’d need me gone. Instead, he’s asking for me any way he can get me.

I step away from his hold and back up a few feet. “I can’t. I’m sorry.”

“You can’t quit. I have you under contract.”

Two more weeks of this? It will be difficult to look at him every day. It will be too much to look at Erik, Malory, and Heather. I can’t bear the rumors.

He won’t let me walk through the door, so I round him and make my way toward the bar. I grab a glass and the first bottle I see. As long as it’s strong, I don’t care what it is.

Asher watches as I hastily make my drink. His hands in his pockets, he is back to being the one in control. “I’ll let you resign as of today, under one condition.”

Stopping mid-pour, my head shoots up in curiosity.

“Come to the gala as my date. You worked so hard on it and a lot of our contacts are expecting to see your face. The organization needs you.”

I take a large swig and let his words set in. He knows where my soft spot is. I should go to the gala. I forgot how my absence would affect the organization.

“Yes. I will be there.” I can do that.

Asher’s face lights up and he looks relieved for the first time since we were on the beach in Miami. Maybe we can make this work.

“You’ll definitely be there?” He looks at me for confirmation.

“Yes.” I reassure him. “Yes. I will be there.” I’ve already dug my grave. Might as well lie in it. “May I use your restroom?”

He laughs at my simple request, relieved I’m no longer running for the door. “It’s behind you to the left,” he directs.

I take a final swig from my glass and set it down on the bar. In the restroom, I take a second to evaluate myself in the mirror. Yes, she’s still there. Loose hair, T-shirt, jeans, and Converse. Adulteress and mother, but still me.

I know there is no world where Gabriel and Asher can cohabitate, but for one more night, I can do the right thing. Even if that means attending a gala where he will be.

I splash some water on my face and look for a towel to dry with. There isn’t one on the counter. I open a drawer under the sink. Nothing. I try the next and there is one.

Hang on a second.

I go back to the first drawer and open it again. How did that get here?

I put my hand into the drawer and pull out the exact pair of black women’s underwear that have been causing me to lose sleep.

What the fuck? Either this is a very popular brand of women’s undergarments, or there is something completely fucked up about this situation.

I exit the restroom with the panties hanging from my index finger. Asher is still standing by the bar. He turns from looking at the television and his smile disappears.

“Whose are these?” My voice is stern and explicit.

Asher’s face is in a state of shock. His body tightens and his hands rise in defense. “Where did you get those?”

“Who do they belong to?” My voice is deeper, angrier.

“That was from long before this weekend. The relationship is over. I swear.” He takes a few steps toward me, and I take the same steps back.

It doesn’t matter whether these were before, after, or during our time together. It doesn’t matter if they are from his long-lost love or the girl next door. I just need to know whom they belong to.

My fear is I know exactly whose they are. There is only one person other than me who knows both my husband and my boss. It’s all starting to make sense.

“They’re Malory’s,” I state clearly. By his lack of response, I know I’m right.

I throw the vile undergarments in his face and storm toward the door.

“Kathryn, wait.” He takes off after me. “What difference does it make?”

I walk out the office door and catch the waiting elevator. “It makes more of a difference than you’ll ever know.”

I descend to the twenty-fourth floor and stop at my redhead. “You had something you needed to talk to me about?” By the look on my face, she knows I’ve already figured out a thing or two.

Trish doesn’t say a word, but hands me over a stack of emails she printed out. She clearly didn’t only have access to Erik’s files.

There were emails between Malory and Asher. They start when she submitted my resume and boasts about my proficiency and knowledge on site surveys and production planning. Then they start getting creepy. Many are explicit, recounting some of their nights together. I try to figure out why Trish printed them, until I see my name pop up. That one is dated the week after I arrived. She suggests the new girl is “definitely willing to work her way to the top.” Malory had no idea about my true affliction with Asher and the tumultuous relationship we had.

There are others where she’s telling Asher about how my marriage is falling apart and if he’s interested, he should stake his claim. I don’t understand why she would be pushing me toward Asher. I thought she wanted him. And from the words I’m reading, she had him, many times.

Trish also printed a correspondence from Malory to Erik, stating I was unfit for the position and he should reconsider whether I was appropriate to produce the gala. This is dated last week, the day Gabriel came to see me in the office. She was so mad at Heather that day, or perhaps it was really me. And to think, I thought Heather was the one who undermined me to Erik.

It all starts to come together with the final set of emails between Malory and Gabriel. This one is dated the day before his office visit. I didn’t even know she knew him well enough to email him. It seems innocent enough. She’s telling him what a great job I’m doing and how Asher and I did a site survey and how he’s really impressed with my work, even providing me one-on-one mentoring. How did she know I was with Asher that day? And why is she telling Gabriel? That was the night he fell asleep reading the magazine. He came to the office the next day, and I reveled in the fact he was jealous.

She had an agenda, and now so do I.

Emails in hand, I storm my way down to her office and slam the door behind me when I enter. She doesn’t seem concerned that I would even be there. It’s as if she’s been expecting me.

“I thought you resigned,” she states blandly.

“And I thought you were my friend!” I spit out.

Malory leans back in her chair and rests her hands on the arms, willing the confrontation.

I throw the incriminating emails on her desk and hide my phone as I hold it low at my hip. “You brought me here on purpose. You got me this job for a reason. Tell me, was it my career you set out to tarnish or just my marriage? I seem to be a little lost in the details.”

“Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Kat. You always did think it was all about you. You just had to have it all.”