She ducked out of his office.
“I know you’re Ryder,” I said the second the door was closed.
“Ryder?” he asked.
“Yes. Ryder Storm.” I narrowed my eyes at him, hoping it would scare him into a confession. It did not.
“I don’t know who that is, but it’s not me.”
I decided to take a different approach. “Why’d you kill the deal with BIMG?”
“Another firm gave us a more attractive offer,” he said matter-of-factly.
“And why’d you send me all those shoes if you were just going to have me thrown out of the Society for rape?” I lowered my voice when I said “rape,” but it still hung in the air awkwardly between us.
“Shoes? Society? Rape? Ashley, have you been drinking?”
“No I haven’t been drinking!”You stupid waffle stomper!God, he was infuriating. I needed some way to prove that he was Ryder. The first thought that came to mind was to tear his glasses off, pull his hair into a bun, and force him to change into a colorful suit.
Or what if I was wrong?Oh my God.I had done it again. What was up with me thinking that every hot guy I met was part of the Society? First I’d raped Dr. Lyons, now I’d torpedoed my career. No, not just my career. Chastity’s career. And Madison’s.
“I’m so sorry,” I muttered. “I must have you confused with someone else.”
“Who is he? Is he part of this sex club you mentioned?”
“Yeah, he…wait a second! I never said the Society was a sex club.”
For a second - the briefest of moments - his eyes grew wide with guilt. It was hardly noticeable. But I saw it. I was sure of it. I had caught him. “Sure you did,” he said, glancing down at his phone to avoid looking me in the eye.
“No. I said that you had me thrown out of the Society for rape.”
“Right. And everyone knows that the Society is a super exclusive sex club.”
“Then why would rape get me thrown out? You sound like an idiot, you know.”Was that too harsh?I cringed. At least I hadn’t called him a shiteatery.
“Uh…you still aren’t allowed to rape someone at a sex club. It all has to be consensual.” He cleared his throat and set his phone back down. “So I’ve heard.”
“Nope. I caught you. I knew it was you.” And then I realized exactly how I could prove he was Ryder. I snatched his phone off his desk and opened his gallery.
“Stealing my phone isn’t going to help anything.”
“It will when I find that topless photo of me that you took.”
“Topless photo, huh? Are you trying to trap me with some sort of sexual harassment lawsuit now?”
“No, I’m trying to prove…” I stopped talking and focused on scrolling through his gallery. But there wasn’t much. Just scans of important-looking documents and photos of him shakinghands with fancy people in suits. There definitely weren’t any pictures of me.
“Any luck finding that photo?” he asked. There was a hint of amusement in his voice.
“No. But I know it’s on here somewhere. Probably hidden…”Hidden!Of course. I knew how to prove he was in the Society. I opened his apps and scrolled through until I found one labeledTax Codes. I clicked it.
Welcome, Ryder Storm!
Last Spa Visit - April 13
Last STD Test - April 13, Clean
“Boom. You’re Ryder Storm. Read it and weep, punk.” I started to turn the phone so he could see it, but his hand closed around mine on the phone. His other caressed my jawline, tipping my face up towards his.
