I sit down at the table and Santana slides me a coffee. “So?” she asks. “What happened?”
I didn’t plan it, but I can’t control it. I burst into tears, and all the girls quickly surround me.
“Aw, honey,” Ash says, her hand on my shoulder. “What happened?”
“Mack and I . . . we . . .”
Santana gasps. “You two slept together?”
I nod, sobbing.
“Honey, why are you crying?” Ash soothes, still patting my shoulder.
“He said another woman’s name! He called me...Ingrid...” I cry, dropping my head into my hands.
The girls go quiet.
“What?” Santana breathes.
“I thought it was amazing. I ran into him in the hall, and he seemed upset. He asked me not to go and before I knew it, we were kissing and touching, and it was beautiful. So sweet, and soft. He was gentle with me, like nothing I’ve ever seen from him. Then we were . . . having sex, and he said her name.”
“Who?” Pippa squeaks, speaking for the first time.
“Ingrid.”
“Oh, no,” Santana says, her voice pained for me. “Honey.”
“He said another woman’s name,” I cry, a little hysterically. “I’ve never been so hurt in my life. I thought all that passion was for me, but it wasn’t. It was for her . . .”
“Shit,” Ash says. “I’m so sorry.”
“I don’t even know why I care.” I laugh hysterically now. “He’s made it clear he’s not interested. What made me think that would change? Honestly? I’ve got no brain in my head, and—”
“Hey!” Santana says, her voice firm. “Don’t you dare do that. You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“He was thinking of another woman,” I whisper, my voice broken.
“Shit, sweetie,” Ash says, wrapping an arm around me.
“What does that make me?”
“Jaylah,” Santana soothes. “Don’t.”
I leave my head down, pulling myself together. The door opens behind me, but I don’t move, I just stare at the table.
“Jaylah, honey,” Maddox says, and I flinch. “Everythin’ okay?”
Damn him for using that soft voice.
“She’s fine,” Santana says, and I know she’s giving Maddox a look.
“All right.”
I turn, figuring he’s alone, and my eyes meet Mack’s. He’s standing next to Maddox and the moment we connect gazes, I flinch. I turn quickly, horrified, embarrassed and ashamed.
“Jaylah,” he says, his voice low. “We talk?”
“No,” I say, surprised at how firm my voice is.
“Jaylah,” he goes on.
“I said,” I growl, “no.”
“Mack, not now,” Santana warns, her voice hard.
There’s silence for a long moment, and then the door closes.
“Is he gone?” I whisper.
“He’s gone, honey,” Ash assures me.
“How am I supposed to face him now? I’m so ashamed.”
Santana reaches across, taking my hand. “It was probably a mistake. Maybe you should talk to him.”
“Not going to happen.”
“He won’t stop until you do. It’s better to do it and get it over with,” Ash adds in.
“Right,” I say, standing. “Listen, I’ve got to take Diesel for his check-up. I’ll talk to you girls later.”
I take Diesel from Ash’s arms and tuck him back in his carrier.
“Jay . . .” Santana tries.
“Later.”
Then I’m gone.
~*~*~*~
“He’s sleeping, and I need the shop,” I mutter.
Mack stares at me. “So take him.”
“Mack,” I growl. “You can sit here and fuckin’ make sure nothing happens while I’m gone.”
He crosses his arms. “I said no.”
“And I said I don’t fucking care.”
“I’ll go to the store.”
My lips quirk, sarcastically, of course. “To get me tampons?”
He gets a horrified look on his face.
“Didn’t think so. Watch your son.”
“I can get tampons,” he grumbles.
“There’s a special sort.”
“Sort?” he mutters.
“Yeah, sort. They have to be thin, but not too thin. They can’t be those horrible fluffy ones that are just awful. I don’t like certain brands; there are only two I like. I’ll write them down. Don’t get the pink packet, those are shit.”
“Fuck,” he growls. “Fuckin’ go. Shit.”
“That’s what I thought.”
I lift my purse and walk to the door. “He’s asleep, Mack. You’ll be fine.”
“When you get home, we’re talkin’.”
“No,” I say, reaching for the door. “We’re not. I’m going to do my job, be professional, and we’re going to make sure it stays like that.”
“Jaylah,” he says, his voice a warning.
“I’m your employee, Mack. You’ve reminded me of that so many times. What happened was clearly a mistake. I’m done. I don’t care. It’s finished.”
“Heard you cryin’ all fuckin’ night,” he says and I flinch.
“Well,” I hiss, turning and facing him, “if I’d called you by another man’s name, I’m sure you would have been crying too.”