Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

He has nothing to do with my work.

I haven’t gotten a raise since he’s become the owner.

I was already working here, in the position I earned, before he bought our company.

We’re not inappropriate— unless it’s behind locked doors.

So, no, I don’t respond right away. I don’t do anything to ease her discomfort.

She should be uncomfortable.

I let another beat pass. “What for?”

My manager can’t hold my gaze. “Breach of ethics.”

“Breach of ethics,” I repeat back.

Brenda turns in her seat to face me. “We have a strict no-fraternization policy you signed when the merger became official. It was a part of the onboarding paperwork.”

I want to ask what counts as fraternization, what counts as sexual harassment, and at what point would someone like Brandon get in trouble for his constant suggestions that we spend time together outside of work.

But I don’t say that. Because there’s no point. The raving thoughts of a woman being fired will never be listened to. So I sit very still.

I stare at Brenda; she drops her eyes from mine.

“Are you going to elaborate?” I ask when they don’t say more.

I won’t deny it. I’d never deny my feelings for Maddox. But if they’re going to fire me over this, they damn well need to say so.

“A, uh, source came to us this week.” My manager twists her hands together.

“A source.” I let my grievance fill my tone.

Brenda taps the screen of the tablet she’s holding. “Do you deny that this is you?”

She holds it out, and I take it, immediately recognizing the restaurant from Tuesday night.

The quality isn’t great. Clearly taken from someone across the dining room, zooming in on our location. But it’s good enough.

The first photo is us sitting at the table. It’s our backs. Maddox has his arm around my shoulders, holding me against him and kissing the top of my head.

It was taken right after I gave him the cookies.

The second photo is basically the same, but this time, my face is tipped up, and he’s kissing my lips.

Man, we look good together.

I swipe to the next photo.

It’s of us walking out the front door of the restaurant. Hand in hand. With the other three guys ahead of us.

The next photo is of us walking to our car.

Someone was following us. They saw us at dinner, from the bar, if my guess is correct, and they took our photo. And then they took more. They followed us out of the restaurant and to the little parking lot around the corner where Maddox left his car.

I swipe to the next photo.

I’m confident Maddox will handle the photographer. So I’ll just enjoy the photos.