Michael’s jaw clenched. “You’re going topayfor what you did.”
“Oh, did you have sometroublethis morning?” she asked, voice sugary and lethal.
Patrick leaned forward, adjusting his glasses. “So... is thatactuallywhat it says on your forehead? Tiny Dick?”
Neither responded.
“I’m calling security,” Samantha snapped. “You’re finished.”
“Already packed,” Aisling chirped. “Oh—and have you checked your company email yet?”
Michael paled. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, I did. The entire office knows where I found you this morning. And I’m guessing,” she added with a smirk, “you also found the engagement ring?”
Michael’s eyes narrowed to slits. “Give me the key. The locksmith refused to remove it. I have to go to the ER.”
She shrugged. “Funny thing... the key slipped out of my hand and into the storm drain.”
Patrick Wright started shaking with laughter. “Oh, this just keeps getting better and better.”
His face flushed crimson. “Youbitch.”
The agent stood. “Mr. Wright, we should probably?—”
Patrick held up a hand. “Hang on. This isbetterthan anything I’ve read in months.”
He turned to Aisling. “Miss O’Byrne, I’d like your personal contact info. I’d like to stay in touch. Maybe even help you land a new job.”
Patrick Wright, the most famous author in the United States, wanted to help her find a job. Bless him.
She handed him her card, grateful her hands didn’t shake.
Samantha stepped forward, a fake smile plastered on. “We’re so sorry about this disruption. We’d be happy to reschedule?—”
Patrick cut her off. “Let me get this straight. She flew home early to meet with me, caught the two of you in bed, and still came in to do the job professionally. Andyouwant to reschedule?”
“I’m sorry that this has been a waste of your time,” Aisling said, knowing that this man didn’t deserve to witness this today.
He turned to Aisling. “You didn’t waste my time. This company did.”
Then, with a wry grin, he added, “Tiny Dick. Honestly, that’s going in a book. Some villain is going to find that on his forehead.”
Michael looked like he might combust. Samantha looked like she wanted to die.
Aisling just smiled.
As Patrick and his agent walked out, the author turned one last time. “You’re going to be just fine, Aisling. Better than fine. I expect great things from you.”
When the door closed, Samantha turned on her. “Howdareyou?—”
“No,” Aisling cut in. “How dareyou. But you know what? I’m done caring. This part of my life – over.”
Security arrived just as she reached her office. Looking around at the tiny place she’d called home, she sighed. It was for the best that she left. She reached for her boxes.
As they walked her down the stairs, half the office was waiting in the lobby.
And theycheered.
