I glance at the clock. It’s three thirty in the afternoon. What the hell? I can’t just leave work.

I type out my response.

Me: I’m working.

His response is quick.

Barrett: Your job depends on it.

Ugh. God, I hate that he has this over my head. I could tell JoAnna and blow up his business deal. That would show him. But that would blow up my life, too.

My stomach churns at Barrett’s reminder that I’d be jobless, possibly ousted from the entire industry if every publishing house knew I was fired from St. Clair Press. I glance down at the manuscript I’ve been reading and I instantly know I’ll have to go along with his demands.

I text back a thumbs up, which is really a giant fuck you, but I doubt Barrett knows that, then start gathering my things.

On my way out, I stop by JoAnna’s office to let her know that I’m leaving. Fake relationship with her son aside, ever since the party at her apartment, I’m determined to be on my best behavior. After this deal with Barrett ends, the slate will be wiped clean and I don’t want to give her any other reason to fire me. It’s only honesty from here on out.

I’ve never left work early before. While I do tend to work from home in the evenings, reading manuscripts and checking emails, I hate that I’m cutting out early.

With my heart pounding in my chest, I knock on the doorframe to JoAnna’s office.

“Chloe,” she says, looking up from her computer. “Come on in.”

“Oh, actually I didn’t need anything, I was just letting you know I’m on my way out for the day.”

“Okay, sure.”

“I know it’s early, but I’ll be working later, at home.” I motion to my tote bag full of manuscripts.

“Sounds good.”

“I’ve got a thing with Barrett,” I continue, feeling the need to explain the situation without confessing everything. “I’m meeting him to, you know, um…”

JoAnna holds up a hand.

“Chloe, I don’t need the details.”

Oh my God. I realize now that she thinks I’m skipping out on work to have sex with Barrett. Her son. Eww. Not the sex part, because let’s be honest, I like a good science fiction romance with hot robot/human sex, but to talk to JoAnna about it is just wrong.

Now, it’s occurring to me that people think that Barrett and I are having sex. That’s what you do in most adult romantic relationships. That’s what you do when your boyfriend looks like Barrett. You consummate like bunnies, everywhere and at all hours of the day.

JoAnna is staring at me.

“I’m not leaving early to have sex with Barrett,” I announce, a little too loudly.

“Okay, Chloe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”