Chapter 16
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
MAIA
Discombobulated.
I’d always liked that word.
I was discombobulated when I woke up the next morning in my bed, unable to remember how I got here.
Quite quickly, I realized I must have fallen asleep on the couch and Baird had not only put me to bed, but he’d made sure my alarm was set.
For a few minutes, I just lay there staring at my ceiling, heart racing, because of the squishy feeling in my stomach.
I recognized that squishy feeling.
It was accompanied by other feelings I’d been ignoring for a few weeks now.
“Damn,” I murmured, flushing hot all over with realization. “I’m crushing on my best friend.”
There.
It was true.
I was developing a big, juicy crush on Baird McMillan, the absolute worst romantic candidate in my life.
Aye, he was sweet and funny and protective and considerate … but he was also a giant man-whore who had no intention of settling down.
Groaning, I covered my face with my hands. Why did I have to complicate this? I was totally crushing on him because of all the nice things he said yesterday, and he was just saying those things to make a point to Will.
Right?
I threw off my duvet with a groan and sat up, reaching for my phone. My stupid pulse leapt at the sight of the text notifications from Baird (among a few from family and friends). Baird had placed my glasses on my side table. Butterflies erupted in my belly at his thoughtfulness.
I made a whining sound. “Come on, really? Baird?” I asked myself out loud.
Not that Baird wasn’t crush-worthy of course. But he wasn’t for me. I did not do casual anything.
Grumbling, I put on my glasses and tapped my phone screen.
The first text said:
U were out so put u 2 bed.
The second text said:
I’m sorry bout this.
This turned out to be a video a girl had posted claiming that Baird was a cheating snake because he’d had sex with her only a few weeks ago.
While it was the giant splash of cold reality I needed to remind myself that Baird was not the one for me, I was upset for him.
I didn’t want the world thinking that about him.
Or that I was the kind of girl who would put up with that.
A third text stated:
My management advised me 2 respond.
Then there was a link to another video.
This time it was Baird on his own socials. The sight of his handsome face stirred another flutter of butterflies, despite everything. I didn’t know where he was, but it was a close-up, handheld selfie video.
“Oi, oi, everyone,” he said with less enthusiasm than usual.
“I don’t usually respond to bullshit videos, tabloid crap, and such, but I felt it was necessary.
Maia and I have been friends for over a year.
We didn’t get together until just a few weeks ago after the alleged stupid video that’s circulating.
Maia knows my past. I know hers. Our engagement might seem quick to everyone, but once we knew we wanted to be together, we didn’t see any point in hanging around.
We’re committed to each other, and videos coming out of the woodwork intended to damage us won’t.
Those people are showing themselves for the petty humans they are.
That’s all I’m going to say about that. My love to our friends, family, and supporters. Thanks for being happy for us.”
I was at once bemused by how well he lied about the state of play between us and proud of him for being so straightforward and direct.
Looking at the comments, most people really appreciated that about him and were being supportive.
There were some arsehole remarks. When I saw more than a few questions about why I wasn’t in the video with him, defending him, my cheeks burned with irritation.
I found myself typing before I could think: All of this, Bear. I love my BFF. Heart emoji.
Two seconds later, a notification banner dropped to tell me Baird had liked my comment.
Then he responded. Love my BFF too.
I knew he meant it platonically, but it still made me feel all squishy again.
My phone beeped.
It was Baird.
U got my txts then …
My fingers flew over the screen.
We’re all good. People are creeps.
We won’t let them win.
Thanks for putting me to bed.
The dots popped up on the screen instantly. And then:
Anytime. Ur cute when u snore.
I made a noise of indignation.
I do not snore!
U do. It’s cute.
I do NOT.
OK. Whatever u say, babe.
I sent him the middle finger.
He sent back a crying-with-laughter.
Grinning, I got up to prepare for the day and the inevitable commentary from Becky’s peanut gallery.
I fought against the overwhelming urge to ask Becky why she was stalking me after she accosted me before I even got to my desk.
“I just wanted to say I’m so sorry about Baird.
Men will be men, I suppose, and sometimes they need more than a pretty face.
Hilary wants to see you in her office to make sure this awful revelation isn’t going to hurt the campaign.
” Becky had given me big Bambi eyes filled with fake sympathy wrapped up in malice.
Instead of calling her out for her unkind “pretty face” comment, or calling her a stalker, I shrugged with a nonchalance I knew would annoy the absolute heck out of her.
“There’s no issue. Baird and I are stronger than ever.
Jealous people do destructive things. Don’t they?
” I gave her a pointed look, and her fake sympathy slipped.
I brushed past her, feeling like I was starting to win against her bullying.
I spent the next ten minutes reassuring my boss that all was good in the world of Maia and Baird.
However, at lunchtime, I broke my promise to myself that I wouldn’t check the comments. I found myself back on Baird’s post. Hundreds of people had liked my comment. And there were replies like, “Aw, she calls him Bear!” and “I want a love like yours!”
But there were also comments like, “You’re a bad feminist!” and “You should be ashamed of yourself for taking back a cheater!” and “As a woman, you should believe women.” Like Baird had committed some crime against a girl he hooked up with consensually at a party.
Seriously, the illogical, emotionally unintelligent crap people posted was exhausting.
It was like Baird knew I’d looked at the comments only for them to upset me because a text from him popped up on my phone.
We’re goin’ out 2nite. U, me, Callan, John, and Beth.
I quickly texted back:
Where?
A few seconds later he replied:
Niteclub. Blowin’ off steam/damage control.
I hadn’t been dancing in such a long time, and he was right. We needed to be seen together outside of the campaign.
Tell me where? When?
Pick u up at 8 pm.
I replied with a heart emoji and turned my phone on silent to get back into a work headspace.
Yet, within minutes, I was striding out of my office and into our wardrobes where we kept all the new products we were still reviewing and all the products we’d already decided on.
There was a dress on one of the rails I’d been eyeing for weeks.
It was a thin-strapped minidress with a slim A-line silhouette and a risqué side split.
It contoured to the body and was handsewn with shimmering midnight-blue sequins.
On the left side of the abdomen, the midnight blue was broken up with a gold sunburst and on the right side of the hem was a cascade of half-moons.
It was sexy and flirty and classy all at once, which was hard to pull off with a minidress. The one on our rails was my size. Kismet! Grabbing it, I hurried to Christina’s office and knocked on the door.
Upon entering, I held up the dress. “Baird and I are going out in public tonight to do damage control.”
“Yes, I saw that unfortunate video. How are you?”
“I’m fine,” I replied honestly. “Baird didn’t cheat on me.”
My boss didn’t look so certain, but her gaze moved to the dress. “Well, that’s stunning.”
“Yes, and it’s up for preorder so it’s not available yet, but I need to look amazing tonight, and I wondered if I could buy this with my discount?”
“No.” Christina shook her head but with a small smile. “Take it. A gift from Pennington’s as part of the campaign.”
I gaped at her. The dress was worth seven hundred pounds. “Are you sure?”
“Of course. I assume we’ll see it all over social media tonight. Marketing can make up a post later tagging the designer and the link to the preorder. I’ll talk to Hilary.”
“Thank you, Christina.” I meant it in more ways than one.
She gave me a kind smile but then shooed me out. “Now go work.”
I had every intention of going back to work, but first I needed to find the perfect pair of shoes to match my dress.
When I sat back down at my desk fifteen minutes later, it occurred to me I might not just be dressing up to be seen tonight.
I might have been a grown woman, but I was also a woman with a developing crush on her best friend/fake fiancé, and I wanted him to notice me. Not just flirt casually like he always did but really notice me and think I was the most beautiful woman in the room.
“Oh, Maia.” I dropped my head in my hands, my words muffled, “You’re in big trouble.”