I took my laptop and sat in the break lounge. It was empty in the morning. Everyone was at their workstations, catching up on emails, their morning coffees in hand. I needed somewhere quiet to think about the bomb Analise had dropped.
How could three separate bookings be canceled?
Every employee had access to our company accounts. It wouldn’t be hard to cancel the car, restaurant, or hotel reservations. A simple call to the restaurant or hotel would do it. But you had to know the login details for the company’s Uber account, which meant it was most likely someone from our company who wanted to sabotage Analise, the Let’s Talk About Sex podcast, or me.
I didn’t know anyone that didn’t like Analise. Even if someone did have a beef with her, it was risky to do anything about it. She was Isaac’s sister; you mess with her, you get fired.
I rolled that around my head, wondering if I was on to something—screwing with Analise, to screw with Isaac—but it didn’t make sense. Why go through Analise to get to him?
I considered the Let’s Talk about Sex with Lex podcast. I knew very little about it, except that the host, Dr. Alexa Fairchild, was a little controversial. It could be a conservative enemy trying to wreak havoc on the show, but messing with reservations seemed basic and petty.
I sent an email to the manager of Morton’s asking her to call me. Next, I checked our Uber account. There it was. The car had been canceled yesterday morning, right as their plane landed. Anyone at Dreamary could’ve signed in. I called the hotel. They had a record of the cancelation but no information about who canceled it.
I emailed Analise—she was in a meeting—with everything I found and suggested changing the passwords on our accounts for the time being.
Then I hopped on TikTok and caught up on work. When I was done making notes of the videos from our accounts that were gaining traction, I took the company’s iPad and walked around the studio taking candid shots of the hosts that were in the studio working or asking employees the question of the day to post on our accounts later—the company liked behind-the-scenes action shots posted on social media to make us more relatable.
I passed by Jackson’s office, not planning to go in. The company lawyer wasn’t exactly exciting social media content.
“Peyton, come in here,” Kat said. “I have a couple of things I want to go over about the apartment. Do you mind?”
“Mom,” Evie whined, making it into two syllables as only a teenager can. “I have to pee.”
She sat on the sofa, her legs crossed tightly.
“I’ll show her where it is,” I said. “Anyone want coffee? I’ll stop by the break lounge.”
I dropped Evie at the restroom and made the coffees. I carried them on a tray back to Jackson’s office. Evie was still in the bathroom when I passed.
I screeched to a stop in the doorway, the cups clinking. Jackson and Kat were wrapped together, kissing. I slowly turned around, careful not to make any noise, a strange, icky feeling running through me.
Evie approached the doorway and I stepped forward, blocking her path.
“Wait. Don’t—” I tried to stop her, but she glanced over my shoulder.
“I’m gonna kill him.” She rolled her eyes and walked away from the office.
Back at the lounge, I slid the tray of coffees on the counter. My body felt heavy like my blood had led running through it. I’d suspected things were unsettled between Jackson and Kat but to see them intimately together… My insides twisted in confusion.
“Are you okay?” I asked, steadying my shaking hands.
She plopped into one of the hammock chairs and swung her legs.
“That must have been difficult to see,” I said gently.
She batted her hand, unconcerned. “I don’t care about that. I mean, I do. But not the kissing part. Dad needs to get over her already. He’s such a loser. Have you noticed how his eyes follow her like a puppy dog when she’s around?”
That’s not exactly how I’d describe it, but he always knew where Kat was in a room. And the look was less sad puppy dog and more heartbroken.
“What about your mom’s boyfriend?”
“My mom and he are like committed, but they’re not exclusive.”
I bent my head to the side, confused. “What does that mean?”
“They identify as poly. Not like throuples or orgies. But like, they’re boyfriend and girlfriend, but they’re not monogamous.”
I shook my head, trying to understand.
“What’s a throuple?”
“A couple but with three people,” Evie said. “Relationships aren’t what they used to be.”
I help back a smile. She was ten years younger than me, but she treated me like I was ancient.
“My mom was like that.” I eased into the swinging chair next to her. “I didn’t realize there was a name for it.”
“There’s a name for everything,” Evie said, slamming her feet down and stopping her chair. “But my dad needs to grow a pair. It wouldn’t be a big deal, but it gets my dad’s hopes up. And it’s gross.”
I hooked my arm with Evie’s and guided her back to her father’s office, relieved she wasn’t scarred by any of this. If she wasn’t bothered by it, I shouldn’t be either. That’s what I told myself but the knot in my stomach didn’t release.
“You’re pretty wise,” I told her.
“I’ve been told.”
When we arrived, Kat sat on one of the armchairs flicking through her phone. Jackson was typing on his computer as if they hadn’t just had their tongues in each other’s mouths.
There was a tightness in my throat and I didn’t like it. I didn’t like what it meant, that my feelings for Jackson were growing and we hadn’t even done anything yet.
“What time are you leaving in the morning?” I asked, gathering my iPad and phone.
“The alarm is set for four.” Kat swung her bag on her shoulder. “Why don’t you stay at Jackson’s tonight. You can sleep in Evie’s room there. Otherwise, you’ll be up at the crack of dawn with us.”
“Oh.” I glanced at Jackson. “I don’t think—”
“That works,” Jackson cut in. His head was bent as he typed on his keyboard.
“Perfect,” Kat said. “Then I guess this is goodbye for a month.”
Jackson wrapped Evie in a bear hug and lifted her off the ground. She tried to wiggle out of it, but she was laughing.
Kat put her hand on his arm and lay a peck on his cheek. He mumbled a goodbye, his eyes averted.
Jackson didn’t look up until they disappeared.
“I don’t need to stay at your—”
“Let’s start tonight.” He cut me off, a catch in his voice. He swallowed and when he spoke again his voice was normal. “If that works for you.”
“Sure.” My lips pressed together and I held back a squeal—of delight or fear, I wasn’t sure. I wanted this, but I wondered if Jackson realized he was using me as a balm to soothe the wound on his aching heart.