us first—deep groans, skin slapping against skin—followed by the briefest flash of thrusting white butt cheeks, swinging testicles, and a bright red floral dress pushed up over a woman’s shoulders, her dark hair really all that is visible of her. It takes a couple of grunts and thrusts before my brain connects the dots and melts. Unspotted, I carefully pull the door shut again.
Rusty was definitely not eating cake.
I slowly turn around. James is still staring past me at the now-closed door, unblinking, mouth open.
“That was Rusty,” he whispers.
I give Captain Obvious a nod. “Yes.”
They have a TV show and a book coming out. A book on relationships. Rusty—and his thrusting butt—has impeccable timing. “And Stephanie,” James adds.
I hoped I was the only one who realized that, but no such luck. I exhale slowly, already trying to mentally Tetris my way out of what I just saw. Moments like this make me realize why professional distance is a good thing. I’ve done holidays with the Tripps and watched as they grew from owners of a single store to rulers of an empire. Literally no part of my life isn’t somehow tied up and overlapped with theirs.
“Yes, James, with Stephanie.” I press the heels of my hands to my eyes, trying to figure out what the correct response is here.
When I look back at him, James is staring at me, his eyes round with shock. “But he’s MARRIE—”
I clap a shaking hand over his mouth. “Shut up, oh my God!” I look up and down the hall to make sure no one has witnessed what we’ve witnessed. “Shhhhhhhh!”
I pull him with me around the corner toward the warehouse. A vent blows overhead, hopefully masking our voices. “You have got to keep your cool about this!” I haven’t even figured out how I feel; I cannot deal with James freaking out on top of it.
“Carey, he’s cheating on his wife!”
I stare at him for an astonished beat. Did we not both just witness Rusty and his swinging balls? I visibly shudder. “I got that.”
“But …” James trails off, bewildered. “Doesn’t that bother you?”
“Of course it bothers me,” I tell him calmly, trying to not feel frustrated that this newbie, of all people, is telling me how to react to a couple I’ve known my entire adult life. Defensiveness bubbles to the surface. “But I’ve worked for them for a long time, and I learned years ago that some things are not my business.”
Marriages have ups and downs, Melly told me once. I need you to focus on the work, not what’s happening between me and Russ.
I’d grown up watching my dad come home stumbling drunk and reeking of perfume, only to see him and Mom happily canoodling on the couch two days later, enough times to know Melly was right. The lines are blurry in this job, but I do my best to let the Tripps’ marriage be their marriage, and their business be my business.
From his expression, I gather James is not on board with Operation Look the Other Way. And his horror triggers an uncomfortable dissolving sensation in my stomach. I’m mad and sad and frankly horrified by what we just saw, but I can’t help but feel embarrassed and slightly protective, too. I shove my hands into my pockets.
“They’re about to release their book on relationships,” he says, voice high and tight. “Their book of marital advice.”
I shift on my feet. “I know.”
“And launch a new show that’s based almost entirely on their brand!” he says, struggling to keep his voice down. “That brand being their blissful marriage!”
I work to hide my irritation. To be honest, I don’t see James often because, whether he likes it or not, so far he’s good at his job and keeps Rusty in line. So much so, in fact, that I didn’t realize Rusty was having another affair.
I narrow my eyes. “You’re sure you didn’t know about this? You were awfully reluctant to go looking for him.”
James flushes. “I thought I’d catch him eating a sandwich, Carey, not”—he points behind him, back to the room—“that.”
I deflate. “Yeah, me too.” I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and then look around the empty hallway. “We can’t let anyone else down here.”
“You’re not going to tell her,” he guesses, frowning. “Are you?”
Defensiveness is my default: “Melly made it clear a number of years ago that she wants me and all assistants to stay out of her private life. That includes you.”
I can see by