Billionaire, I Am Not Your Wife! novel Chapter 110

Chapter 99: Logan’s Call

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Durian looked at me for a moment, recalibrating as he realized that whatever I was going through was huge enough to get me in this mess, looking miserable, I think this is the first time he had seen me in this particular kind of state which was saying something on its own. “What happened?”

I drank.

“Cameron.” His voice shifted from the register he used for the ambient commentary into something more direct and probing, trying to find the problem before professing a solution. “What happened tonight? The call was-you sounded wrong on the phone.”

“I went to the office.”

“And?”

I turned the glass in my hands. The bar was quiet at this hour, the midweek crowd thin, the music low enough to be a background noise rather than a sound. A couple at a table near the window, leaning toward each other. A group of three near the door, winding down from something. It was a basic Tuesday, everyone going through their own Tuesday problems.

“He was there,” I said.

Durian was quiet, which was how he received significant information-not filling the space, just taking it in, waiting for more before replying.

“Late,” I said. “Working late. Finishing the Singapore summary I didn’t ask him to finish tonight.” I looked at the glass. “He wasn’t alone.”

“Who was with him?”

“Lyra Cheng.”

A pause. “The events coordinator.”

“She’s been finding reasons to come up to the executive floor for three months.” I heard the flatness in my own voice and recognized it as the sound I made when I was managing something carefully. “I hadn’t put it together until tonight. She was-” I stopped. “She was on my desk. And her hand was on his chest.”

Durian said nothing.

“He wasn’t stopping it,” I said. “He wasn’t- he looked-” I stopped again. The image was specific and unhelpful and was going to continue being unhelpful for longer than I wanted it to, because I realized that Lucian was someone who flushed at people he saw interesting or liked but embarrassed to say something about it. “He looked like someone who’d decided not to stop something.”

“What did you do?”

“I sent her out.”

“And him?”

–

–

Logan’s Call-

Idrank. Set the glass down. “I let him go.”

The silence that followed was the specific silence of Durian deciding what to do with information he’d received that he had a strong opinion about.

“You fired him,” he said.

“Yes.”

“Tonight.”

“Yes.”

“Because Lyra Cheng had her hand on his chest.”

“Because his professional judgment was-”

“Cameron.” His voice was exactly level. “Don’t.”

I looked at the bar. “His professional judgment-”

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“Was compromised by someone who came to his office after hours and sat on your desk. Which is not primarily a failure of his judgment.” Durian turned on his stool to look at me more directly. “You fired him because you couldn’t stand watching it. Say that if you’re going to say anything.”

I said nothing.

“How did he take it?”

“He was-“I thought about Lucian in the doorway, his hand on the frame, his back to me, his voice steady while he made sure the transition was covered. *Check weather forecast for travel day.* “He was professional about it. He did not demand anything or even change his expression, it was almost as if I told him to go home and sleep.”

“Of course he was.” Durian exhaled. “Of course he was, because that’s what he is, and you know that, and you still-” He stopped. Ordered his drink from the bartender who’d appeared, waited until the bartender moved away.

“You spent eighteen months managing this. Eighteen months of not saying anything, not doing anything, keeping it exactly where it needed to stay. And then you saw someone else-”

“Don’t analyze it.”

“I’m not analyzing it. I’m describing it.” He picked up his glass. “You’re allowed to have made a bad decision. I’m not going to pretend you didn’t make one.”

I flagged the bartender.

“You don’t need another one,” Durian said.

“I know what I need.”

“You need to not make tonight worse than it already is, and you’re about to drink your way into doing several things you’ll regret.” He didn’t reach for my arm or try to physically intervene, which was why he was still sitting beside me. He simply stated it and let me make the decision. “Have one more if you need

24

Logan’s Call

1. Then we’re done.”

t had one more. My phone buzzed against the bar surface. I looked at the screen.

Logan Hayes.

I let it go. Watched it ring out, watched the screen go dark.

“Who’s that?” Durian asked.

“Sedona’s husband.”

“Why is he calling you?”

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