“Yes. Why did you fire me?”
Here we go.Ava paused the movie and said simply, “I didn’t fire you.”
“Okay.” Regan drew the word out, clearly annoyed by the semantics. “Why did you get me fired?”
Ava cleared her throat. From the moment she’d realized she was rooming with Regan, she knew this subject would likely come up. Shejust didn’t think it would happen while Regan was clearly inebriated. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t mean to get you fired. That wasn’t my intention.”
“Well, it’sworthnothing because Ididget fired.”
“I know. I’m sorry about that.” She played with a small hangnail on her thumb.
“Are you?”
Ava looked up and squinted at Regan. “Yes.”
“I loved that job. And I would’ve gotten better. I learn fast. I just needed a chance and somebody to guide me. I’d hoped that would be you. Instead, you complained.”
A deep breath and a slow exhale. “Look. I didn’t complain. I was concerned. You weren’t keeping up. You were causing others to fall behind because they had to pick up your slack. I know you wanted to learn, and I know you’re good. Now. But then? You were a detriment.”
“A detriment?” Regan’s eyes went wide. “Wow. Harsh.”
“You asked.”
“I did. And certainly, don’t sugarcoat it for me or anything.” She stood and walked around the side of her bed.
“I’m sorry.” Ava didn’t know what else Regan expected her to say. But she still felt bad. She wasn’t lying; she hadn’t expected her boss to fire Regan on the spot. She’d been as shocked as Regan had by that.
“So you said.” Regan stepped out of her pants, then peeled off her shirt. “I need a shower,” she said softly, seemingly to nobody—or maybe just to herself—and Ava couldn’t pull her eyes away as the bra and then the underwear followed the pants and top, and then Regan was standing there naked. And there were her glorious breasts. Again.
This time, Ava didn’t look away.
Chapter Ten
Regan was not a person who was often annoyed with herself. Sure, she made mistakes, just like every other human being on the planet. She fucked up on occasion. But she rarely held on to such things. Normally, she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and moved on. Mistakes happened. They were part of life.
But yesterday? Holy crap, had she fucked up.And this is exactly why I should not be allowed to do shots.
She shook her head in self-deprecation as she rolled out the dough for her pie crust. Why she’d let Madison and Paige talk her into doing shots when they were out, she wasn’t sure. No, that was a lie. She knew exactly why: because she was frustrated with Ava and the state of things. She knew one shot would relax her, take away some of the stress she’d been feeling. Of course, then one shot became two, and then there was pressure because Madison wanted to do one more. And then Paige got teary because she was missing her husband, and so they did another shot.
It was all downhill after that.
She picked up the dough and flipped it over, then floured it and rolled some more as she stifled a groan and tightened her jaw.
So far downhill and so fast.
She’d stripped.In front of Ava. Just…took her damn clothes off. All of them. Paraded around naked! Okay, she didn’t actuallyparade, but she’d walked from her bed all the way across the room to the bathroom. Naked. And to make matters worse, she’d forgotten to bring a clean towel in with her. Liza’s household staff had collected towels that morning, laundered them, and brought them back, and as Reganhad stood in the shower being absolutely mortified that she’d done what she’d done, she’d suddenly remembered the pile of towels she’d vaguely noticed on the end of her bed and realized she had nothing in the bathroom to cover herself with. There was no way in hell she’d ask Ava for her help, so she’d had no choice but to waltz back out into the room—this time not only naked but dripping wet—to grab a towel, wrap it around herself, and go back into the bathroom. She’d managed to avoid looking at Ava, though she did pass a mirror on her way back and was pretty sure she was being watched with an amused grin.
Goddamn, she was embarrassed.
“A little less flour.” Liza’s voice was close enough to startle her. She hadn’t realized she’d made her way to Regan’s station. “Don’t dry it out.”
“Right,” Regan said with a nod. “Right.” She knew that. About the flour. But her mind was elsewhere. Thankfully, Liza moved on.
Across the aisle, Ava was working on her own crust and was clearly frustrated with it—as evidenced by the fact that she picked it up off her counter, crumpled it into a ball in her hands, and threw it in the trash with some force, her assistant looking on in obvious surprise. Ava’s lips were pressed tightly together as she pulled her mixer forward and, from what Regan could tell, started over again, just as Liza approached.
“Yikes, isn’t this your third go-round?” she asked Ava, who nodded as a pink circle blossomed on each cheek. “Do they never serve pie in your five-star restaurant?”
Ouch.Regan watched Ava’s throat move as she swallowed and said something Regan couldn’t quite make out.
