Erica’s bottom lip popped back out in a pout.

Jake rolled his eyes.

“I mean it. The two of you are being horrible to each other. And why?” He indicated me, too.

Jake expelled a breath of air and leaned back.

Erica narrowed her eyes. She mumbled, “Wanker, whasss your poind?”

“Great. The slurring is upon us,” Jake grumbled.

Wanker started to turn on him.

I beat him this time. I hissed at Jake, “Stop it. Susan screwed her over, and she’s only mad at you because you screwed me over, remember?”

That shut him up.

Erica thrust a fist in the air. “Yeah!”

Wanker told her, “Drop that hand right now.”

She did. Her hand landed with a thud on the table, and she seemed mesmerized by Wanker’s take-charge attitude. I had to admit, I was impressed, too.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, and he shoved his glasses up with one savage movement. He pointed at the table. “Now,”—he hit the table with his finger, like Erica had done when we approached—“I have no idea what happened. She still hasn’t explained it to me, but I vote we go home, and we all partake in a rather passionate round of Go Fish.”

“Yeah!” Erica’s fist went back in the air. She lowered it right away. “No, we can’t. Susan’s here. I’m spying on her.”

That got all our attention.

Jake sat upright.

I froze.

Wanker’s glasses slid down his nose, and he left them there.

“Wait.” Jake leaned across the table. “Susan’s here?”

“Yeah.” Erica pointed to the second level. “She came here with that killer guy and some others.”

“Where?” I was close to hyperventilating. Kian was here?

“In a private box up there. That guy was snuck inside through the back. He’s famous. People would go apeshit if they knew he was here.”

“Are you sure he’s here?” I had to make sure.

“I think so. I mean, he might’ve left already.”

If he did, a thought occurred to me, has he texted me?

I felt the outline of my phone in my bag. I wanted to pull it out and double check. Was Kian here? Or did he leave? I had no clue how I felt about either. I just wanted to know if he’d texted me.

Erica said, “Susan came in with a bunch of head honchos from the paper. They have a private box here. I’ve heard things at the paper, that they use it with their biggest sponsors or whoever. I thought it was just all talk at the office, but when I saw that she’d come here with all the editorial staff, I knew it had to be true.”

“But you didn’t see”—she’d called him killer guy—“killer guy with them?”

“No.” A long, drawn-out breath of air left her. “But I overheard his driver say that their next stop was here. He was talking to one of Kian’s lawyer guys.”

Jake scowled.

I chewed on my lip. My stomach was in knots.

“I know they’re up there.” Erica pointed above us. “Go, and make your presence known. I have no doubt that Susan will welcome you with open arms.”

Me? No. There was no reason. Wait. She was talking to Jake.

Jake fixed her with a dark look. “For the tenth and umpteenth time, I’m not with Susan. I’m not with Tara either.” He pointed to me. “I’m with her now.”

Erica’s head swiveled to me. Her eyebrows lifted.

Wanker’s head dropped to his hand, and he began shaking it back and forth. “Oh God, no.”

Jake continued, with an extra bite to his voice, “Get used to it, Erica. I’m not going anywhere.” He paused. “I’m her accountability partner. You know what that means?”

“You want to get into her pants.” Erica rolled her eyes. “Everyone knows that.”

“Wha—,” Jake’s mouth fell open, then closed. He tugged on his shirt collar, leaning forward over the table. “No. I mean, yes, but we’re holding each other accountable. That means we’re friends, and you can’t do anything about it. From here on out, I’m going to be around a whole lot more.” He looked so proud as he said that, until we heard someone else speak up from beside the table.

“Is that right?” A soft and feminine voice spoke up behind my shoulder.

I closed my eyes. This was the worst timing ever.

Jake tensed and cursed under his breath.

Wanker continued to shake his head.

And Erica sat rigid for one second, and then she launched herself in the air, going over me. “You!” she screeched. “You kicked me off the story!”

Susan stepped backward, and the person who spoke was standing right next to her. It was Tara. Her face was pale, and a flash of pain flared in her eyes.

Tara and Susan weren’t alone. A whole group of friends stood behind them.

Susan was dressed to the nines.

I took in the sleek black dress that looked like it had been created just for her body. A pendant was woven into the material resting between her breasts, and her clutch matched the pendant’s turquoise color perfectly. She was the image of sophistication and wealth. Her blonde hair was swept to the side where a mass of curls rested on her shoulder.

Behind her, Tara must’ve changed from the party at Jake’s till now. She didn’t look as sleek and elegant as Susan, but she was close. She wore a flowing blue shirt that was light enough so that a black camisole could be seen underneath, and her black leather skirt had a slit up to the top of her left thigh. She stood there, looking like she was posing for a modeling shoot, with her leg pushed out so that most of it was visible to us.

I didn’t recognize the others.

Erica was up from the booth, pointing at Susan. “You’re a horrible coworker.”

Susan rolled her eyes, looking with disdain at her. “Your job was to ask him background questions. That was it, and before you get all bent out of shape, I was promoted. The senior writer wasn’t objective, so then it became my project. My. Project. You were brought on because his team requested you.” She pressed her lips together. “And we both know you went behind my back for that to get done.”

Wait…

Erica drew to her fullest height. “I had nothing to do with that. I never emailed them or called or whatever you’re accusing me of. I swear. They requested me because they must’ve done their homework and figured out how much of a vapid bitch you were.”