“Did you dump your boyfriend yet?” He turned all business.
My pulse picked up. “No, but—”
“We’ll do it together then. Our firstbonding experienceas a couple. How exciting.” He rubbed his hands together, pulling his phone out of his pocket.
The remainder of my composure dissolved, and I tore myself from my chair, shooting up to my feet.
“Don’t you dare call Ash—”
The familiar sound of a British phone line filled my ears, two beeps at a time. Tate put the phone on speaker, sprawling back and crossing his legs at the ankles over the conference table.
How did he evenhaveAshley’s number?
My boyfriend’s deep tenor filled the air.
“Hello?”
Nausea took me over.
I wasn’t in love with Ashley. We hadn’t the time for that, always on different continents. I knew he wasn’t in love with me either. Our relationship had been fizzling out since my birthday.
He said I was always too busy babying my boss. But I had planned to fly out to London this weekend and sit him down for a respectful breakup conversation.
“Ashley?” Tate produced his pocket watch, rolling it over his fingers like a coin. “This is Tatum Blackthorn, Gia’s boss. She has something to tell you.”
I refused to humiliate him. To lose in another one of Tate’s games. I decided to think on my feet.
“Ashley.” I cleared my throat, my voice soft. “I’m sorry for how sudden it is, but I’m afraid you were right. Maybe it’s not a good time for us to date after all.”
He never said such a thing, but I wanted him to have this win. My stomach was in knots. The only thing keeping my bile from spilling out was the knowledge the perverted twat next to me was probably going to add my vomit to his coffee as a creamer.
Tate’s normally grim face glowed with satisfaction.
“When did I ever saythat?” Ashley gathered his thoughts. “Also, I’m surprised and confused as to why you’re breaking this to me over the phone with yourbosspresent.”
“You’re right. You deserve so much better than this. Unfortunately, the reason I need to break things off is because I will be indisposed for the next few months. See, Mr. Blackthorn is suffering from an unexplained and lengthy bout of violent diarrhea. This has been going on for a while now. We are checking him into the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota to try to find a solution for his rather…inconvenient condition.”
Tate’s smug smirk evaporated faster than free hand sanitizer at a germophobe convention.
I knew Ashley was keeping his chuckle at bay, the fine English gentleman that he was. I also knew I managed to squeeze the best lemonade out of my lemon-filled situation.
“That sounds terrible,” my now ex-boyfriend muttered.
“It’s been a challenging period both for him and for the people around him, as you can imagine.” I heaved out a sigh. “He’s always been explosive, but now it is a bit too literal for everyone’s liking.”
Tate stared me down, plotting my slow, grisly murder as Ashley chuckled in the background.
“I moved Mum to America so she can be nearby while we try to fix whatever’s wrong with him. Currently, the doctors believe it’s simply his irritable personality taking its toll on his bowels.”
Ashley couldn’t hold it back anymore. He was laughing with open delight. “Oh, Gia. What have you gotten yourself into with this job?”
“I know.” I smiled sadly. “I’m sorry for how hasty this is. You’re a really good bloke. If circumstances were different…” I trailed off.
“Yes, I know. Well, I wish you all the best,” he said tenderly. “And if you ever quit your job and decide to rejoin civilization…”
“Then she still won’t give you a call,” Tate growled. “You lost to diarrhea,mate. Get the fucking hint.” With that, he killed the call, pinning me with a wrathful glare. “You really couldn’t come up with anything better?”
I shrugged, smiling angelically. “I’m resourceful, not creative.”
