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“No, you’re not.” He clears his throat and says, “Because if you do, I’ll report her to the ethics board and show them everything I’ve got on the two of you.”
What?
“Everything you’ve got on us?”
“You thought I wouldn’t have you monitored while you were there?” He sighs heavily. “Every day, I’ve been getting updates, pictures sent to me by the security posted outside the property, and the images are very telling.”
What the hell?
“That’s a breach of my privacy, Mack. You had no right to do that.”
“You have a choice,” he says calmly, not bothering to respond to my statement. “You can either get on the jet, or you can risk ruining Wren’s career if you so much as look at her again – and, believe me, I’ll know if you do.”
This is insane.
20
Wren
My heart aches with each mile of distance that gets put between me and Ryker. Did he know that I was fired and just didn’t care? I expected him to be waiting and get hysterical about the idea of me leaving, but maybe my feelings were more real than his.
If he ever had feelings.
The conversation with Mack replays in my head like a terrible nightmare that won’t go away. That’s basically what it is.
My phone blares loudly next to my head, making it pound as though there’s a hammer crushing my skull, and I groan before reaching my hand out in search of the annoying device. I bring it to my ear without looking at the name, then sigh sleepily into the line, “Hello?”
“Ms. Grace,” the familiar male voice says on the other end, forcing me to sit upright on the bed with widened eyes. “This is Mack, Ryker’s manager.”
“Yes, I know.”
What could he possibly be calling for?
My heart thuds wildly, sweat building up at the base of my spine as I think about all the reasons for this talk, and I take a deep breath.
“Is there something I can help you with?”
He clears his throat, then asks, “I’m not sure, Ms. Grace, mind telling me why there’s an image of you with my guitarist that got leaked?”
“Sir, I assure you it isn’t what it may have looked like. We were just out shopping,” I say immediately, my mind going right back to the woman I saw taking a picture of us.
“Shopping? That’s funny because it looked like you were at a club.”
My heart drops to the pit of my stomach, and all the blood drains from my face.
Right, the fight. Someone was bound to get a picture, or even a video, of the entire thing.
“Sir,” I say, more than prepared to answer him, but he cuts me off by saying my name angrily.
“This is unacceptable, unprofessional, and not something I need one of my guys to be around. Your services are no longer needed, and I would like you to leave the premises immediately.”
“But, sir,” I choke out.
“You took advantage of his mental state, and I’ll be sure everyone knows exactly the type of wellness coach you really are when everything is said and done.”
The rest of the conversation fades, and I’m trying to hold back a sob when I come to a stop on my parent's front porch, my suitcase thumping loudly behind me, and I knock softly on their front door. Although it’s unlikely, I’m hoping that they’ll miss the noise and I can stand out here to cry on my own.
I can imagine it now – Elias will get one look at me, know something happened, and then proceed to tell me how right he was. It’s not something I’d normally expect from him, but how could I not when he’s voiced his opinion on Ryker this entire time?
