22. Rei
Red. That’s all I saw in my vision as he went to sit on the couch, instantly falling into a conversation about the football game and playoffs and something about yards with my father and brother.
I stared daggers at him, trying to make eye contact and figure out what in the hell he was doing here, but he wouldn’t meet my gaze.
Once Mom called us all to the table to eat, Christmas dinner felt like an endless event.
Passing around food, Lucy switching from lap to lap while her parents chided her for not being still, awkward jokes, praise for my brother’s career as a doctor, Conrad laughing along with my family like he actually belonged here.
I was ready to explode by the time the plates were cleared because my nerves had been drawn so taut as to fray. Mom said, “Girls, can you help me with the dishes?” It still grated my nerves that she called us ‘girls’ instead of women.
“Just one moment,” I said sweetly. “I’ll see Conrad to his car.”
Conrad winked at me. “So thoughtful of you, Rei.”
Mom gave a happy smile. “Take your time, you two.” It would be her greatest joy for me to marry someone like Conrad, have a baby, and become a stay-at-home mom, leaving ideas of business behind. She still didn’t know how much I made with my “little cleaning gig” or that Conrad really worked for me.
I shuffled through family members, hand gripped tightly on Conrad’s arm, and pushed him outside.
In the cold winter air, he wrapped his scarf back around his neck, saying, “Your mom’s dessert is my favorite. She could sell it and make mil—”
“What the hell are you doing here?” I hissed.
“I could ask you the same.” His voice was light, but there was venom in his eyes. “Figured you’d want to spend it with your new boyfriend, Quentin.”
I tried to hide the panic from my voice and finally managed to say, “You misheard the recording. He knows I’m in QA and set a date to discuss our services.”
“You insult us both when you lie so poorly.”
“I’m not lying. Quentin is not my boyfriend.” We were only discussing marriage, but Conrad didn’t need to know that.
Yet he tapped on his phone and turned it to me, showing a photo of Quentin and me leaving the mini golf building together. Goosebumps raised on my arms.
“That’s nothing,” I hedged. “Men always discuss business over golf.”
Conrad swiped the screen, showing the same photo zoomed out, only two cars in the parking lot. “A private business meeting? Sure.”
I huffed a breath through my nose, making a puff of steam come out, and I found myself wishing I could breathe fire and deal with him once and for all.
“What do you want from me, Conrad? One second you want me to get all the dirt on him and the next you’re pissed I spent time with him.
Pick one.” I hoped my anger shined through, even as it warred with my discomfort and unease at the invasion of my privacy.
A sinister smile lit his face, not reaching his eyes. “I know you told Quentin about the bug.”
My head jerked back. “What?”
He narrowed his gaze like he didn’t believe me. “He found it awfully quickly.”
“Conrad, I didn’t, I promise,” I said too quickly, knowing he had all the power to destroy me with the secret I’d given him years ago, thinking I could trust him.
He stepped closer to me, drawing smooth, cold fingertips along my chin. I did my best to stand my ground. “I know you’re lying,” he whispered. “But that’s okay. We can work with this.”
Unable to hold firm any longer, I stepped back. My heel knocked into a plastic candy cane, and I stumbled over it, falling to the ground.
Conrad gazed down at me with hooded lids, disgust plain on his face, but he quickly masked it with a charming smile. He reached for my hand, helping me back up, and pulled me into a hug.
His voice was a deadly whisper in my ear as he leaned close and said, “I’m giving you two weeks to get me information I can use against him. If I don’t have anything by then, I’m leaking your identity to the press, Andrea.”
The name made acid rise in my throat. “I hate you.”
He didn’t respond, going to his car and driving away.