A calm voice cut through the tension. Leo was standing there, his face a thundercloud.
“Who the hell are you?” Alex snarled.
“Her husband,” Leo said flatly, pulling Alex’s hands off me. “This is America. Assault is a crime.”
Alex rubbed his wrists, glaring at Leo.
“So you’re the guy who picked up my leftovers. You know she’s pregnant with my kid, right?”
“I know.”
Leo’s voice was steady.
“And you still married her? What’s in it for you? You like playing daddy to another man’s kid?”
Alex sneered. Leo took a step forward. He was slightly shorter than Alex, but his presence was far more intimidating.
“First, who I marry is none of your business. Second, if you harass my wife again, I will call the police. And third…”
He lowered his voice.
“I know your company is trying to land a deal with Blue Sky Group. Funnily enough, I’m good friends with their VP of acquisitions. If I see you near Chloe again, I can’t guarantee that deal will go through.”
The color drained from Alex’s face.
“How… how did you know that?”
“Get lost,” was all Leo said.
Alex looked from Leo to me and back again. Finally, he stalked off, muttering curses. On the drive home, we were silent. It wasn’t until we were parked in my building’s garage that Leo spoke.
“Does he harass you like this often?”
“First time he’s cornered me at work,” I said.
“From now on, I’ll pick you up after work.”
“You don’t have to.”
“It’s not a problem,” he cut me off. “Safety first.”
I nodded.
“Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
He parked the car.
“How did you know about his company’s business?” I couldn’t help but ask.
He smiled. A genuine, slightly roguish smile for the first time.
“I guessed. A guy like that, his career is all he cares about.”
“You bluffed.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
He unbuckled his seat belt.
“Let’s go up.”
That night, lying in bed, I replayed the day’s events. Leo’s mother’s hopeful eyes. Alex’s shameless lies. And Leo’s quiet declaration: my wife. This marriage was a farce, but for a moment it had felt like a shield. My phone lit up. A text from Leo.
“We should probably get our stories straight for when you meet my mom this weekend. How we met, who pursued whom, that sort of thing.”
I thought for a moment and typed back,
“Okay. You write the script. I’ll play my part.”
A few minutes later, a long text arrived. It was a detailed, surprisingly romantic story of our courtship. It was seamless.
“You have a talent for fiction,” I replied.
“In business, you have to be good at everything,” came the quick response.
“Thank you for today,” I texted.
“Of course,” he replied instantly. “Good night.”
“Good night.”
On Wednesday morning, I was called into a meeting as soon as I arrived. In the conference room were Mr. Henderson, Rick, and a few other senior managers. The mood was grim.
“Chloe, we have a serious problem,” Mr. Henderson said. “Our pitch for Blue Sky Group, the core creative, has been leaked.”
My blood ran cold.
“What do you mean?”
“Our competitor, Starbrite Solutions, released their new campaign concept this morning. It’s almost identical to ours.”
Mr. Henderson slid a tablet across the table. It was true. Starbrite’s pitch was a carbon copy of the strategy we’d been developing for weeks.
“That’s impossible. That project was completely confidential.”
“That’s the problem,” Mr. Henderson said, his eyes on me. “The company is launching an internal investigation. Until it’s concluded, you are suspended from your duties.”
I felt like I’d been plunged into ice water.
“You… you suspect me?”
“You were the project lead. You had the highest level of access,” Rick chimed in. “And I heard you’ve been having some financial troubles lately. A shotgun wedding can’t be cheap.”
I whipped my head around to stare at him. What was he implying?
