“I was just wondering…when Max came into the picture?”

I wanted to be the bigger person. I really, truly did. I even tried folding my arms and sternly telling myself I had to control my temper. It wouldn’t do any good to claw his eyes out, especially not in the middle of the office where there were so many witnesses.

But sadly, there was no holding back a hurricane. You just had to let it rip before it moved on.

“You thought we were a thing? Is that what you thought?” I asked calmly. (Yes, that was the calm before the storm.)

“Of course. We were great together, weren’t we?”

“That’s good to know, since it looked to me you were just screwing me behind your girlfriend’s back,” I snarled.

His eyes went wide, his mouth dropped open. “Don’t get mad,” he said and held up his hands, trying to shush me. I would not be shushed. The time for shushing was over. Unruly Mimi had come out, rearing her head, and I wasn’t about to make her shut up.

“Don’t get mad?” I growled.

“We agreed it’s all water under the bridge. I just wanted to know when you started seeing him, that’s all.”

“It’s none of your business when he came into my life,” I spat, and my blood boiled at his audacity. “I can’t believe you, Josh. Where do you get off?”

“Okay, okay. You’re right.” His head whipped from side to side so fast, I was sure he’d need a neck brace. “I shouldn’t have asked. Just drop it.”

“Yeah, I’ll just drop it the way you just dropped me.” I gathered my things together, still beyond furious. As I put on my coat and slung my purse and laptop bag over my shoulder, I muttered, “Come into my cubicle and ask me questions about my private life when he’s the one who screwed me over. What the hell is wrong with him? I swear to God…”

“I’m still standing right here, you know.”

"Well, maybe you'd better do something about that."

“Yeah. I’ll leave you alone now.” Just as I thought he was about to turn around and leave, he stopped. “I hope you’ll be able to forget about this by the time we get out there. We need to put up a united front.”

My eyebrows flew upwards. Honestly, this man was incredible. “Why? Don’t you want him to know he’s invited a filthy cheater to his home for the weekend? What would his wife think?” I couldn’t believe I was being so nasty. I was never that nasty, but then I had never faced the sort of situation he’d put me in. I guess I was turning over a new leaf. A rather vicious, potentially violent leaf.

“Please, Mims.”

I wanted to kick him. “Don’t call me that.”

His eyes widened, pleading with me. “Please, Mimi. Don’t make a thing out of this.”

I drew a long, shaky breath. "Josh, if you'll remember, I was just fine before you raked the past up. I was actually stupid enough for a second there to believe we could be friendly without letting what happened get in between us. But you had to open your stupid mouth. Way to go. If things go sour this weekend, it won't be my fault."

Since he stood there gaping like a fish and wouldn't get out of my way, I pushed past him with my shoulder. I could barely see thanks to the tears of rage welling up in my eyes, but I managed to make it down the hall to the elevators without stumbling into anybody or anything. Always a plus.

I couldn’t go out to face Max feeling the way I was, though. He’d know right away there was something wrong with me. So I went to the ladies’ room in the lobby and texted Megan.

It took her all of twenty seconds to reply.

She could make me laugh even when I felt like a total wreck. Leave it to Josh to get inside my head just before I had to leave for a stressful weekend. I splashed my cheeks with cold water and fixed my makeup, taking deep breaths as I did. Josh was nothing. He couldn’t get to me. I just had to stop focusing on how much I couldn’t stand him and take our interaction back to the professional relationship we once had. I was not giving up my job because of him. Why should I?

My phone buzzed again, only this time it wasn’t Megan.

Oh, Jesus, no. Not that.

As much fun as it would be to watch him and Josh go head-to-head one more time before we had to be civilized in front of grownups, I didn’t want to press my luck. He didn’t need to know I was cowering in a bathroom, either. Which, in the end, was exactly what I was doing. I was cowering and telling myself I didn’t have it in me to hold my head up.

And that just wasn’t true.

“You can do this,” I whispered to myself in the mirror. “You can go out there and pretend that hot, sexy guy in the sports car—and I don’t know what he drives, but I bet it’s a sports car—is your boyfriend. Your hot, sexy boyfriend who adores you and would never use you while cheating on another woman. You can pretend you adore him because let’s face it, you’re already pretty close to doing that. There are much worse problems in life than pretending to have a sexy boyfriend while spending a weekend in the Hamptons.”

“You’re right,” said a phantom voice in one of the stalls. I

jumped a mile and fell against the paper towel dispenser.

“Stop whining and get the hell out of here so I can use the bathroom in peace.”

“Sorry, sorry.” I scrambled to get my things together and hurled myself through the door into the lobby, then out the main doors before I lost my momentum.

Sure enough, he was waiting for me beside a shiny red sex machine, low slung and practically purring. It gleamed in the mid-afternoon sun, and even the fancy bigshots in their expensive suits paused to take a look as they walked by. If Max were a car, he would be that very car. I imagined draping myself across it the way they did in music videos.

He looked pretty awesome too, but then he always did. He’d gone all-out with the ‘Weekend in the Hamptons’ look—khakis, a pale blue button-down, dark blue blazer, loafers. I made an ‘ok’ sign with my thumb and forefinger.

“You approve?” he asked.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you walked out of an ad in Town & Country.” I held my arms out to my sides. “What about me?”

Dark sunglasses concealed his eyes, but his smile told me I passed muster. “You could wear a potato sack and you’d still get my pulses racing.”

“Are you sure you should be driving when you’re clearly under the influence of a controlled substance?”

He laughed. “And I thought you’d gotten better at taking a compliment.”

“I must have regressed.”

He stepped away from the car, taking my laptop bag and putting it in the trunk—my things were already inside, as promised. “Ready for some fun?” he asked, opening the passenger door with a wicked grin.

I gulped, wondering exactly what he meant by “fun.” I guess I’d find out soon enough.