Adam’s dark brow creased with concern. Just over his shoulder, I saw the glass door open. Jordan stood there, frozen in his tracks. We locked eyes for an endless moment, but he was too far away for me to read his face. My cheeks flushed hot with humiliation and I tore my gaze away from him. He approached as Adam continued. “April, who was in the video with you? Why was it posted?”

I tensed. “I can’t tell you that.”

“Can’t or won’t?” my father said, reaching up to grip my arm.

“It’s another employee, April. I do know that.” My gaze found Adam’s and his features were deadly serious now. “The badge was an employee’s, not an intern’s.”

I’d forgotten, for maybe about ten seconds, anyway, that Adam was a genius and probably recalled everything he’d ever seen or read. He remembered the color of the badge in the video and immediately concluded that it wasn’t mine.

Jordan now stood behind Adam. My eyes flashed over to his face, taking in his curiously blank features, before turning my attention back to Adam. I took a deep breath and then let it go. “I’m not going to tell you that. I’m sorry, but I can’t. As for why it was posted…it was my fault and it was an accident. I’ve regretted it ever since…” My voice faded out and I felt the tears blur my eyes again. Maybe Jordan would be offended by that, but at this point, I didn’t care. He’d offended me enough.

There was a long, tense silence. “April—” Adam began in a tight voice, but Jordan held out a hand.

“Adam, this isn’t the right time. We should deal with this later.”

Adam shook his head and ignored Jordan. “April, I can’t help you if you don’t cooperate. If you want to leave Draco on good terms, that’s still possible.”

Adam was offering me an ultimatum. If I ratted out my co-conspirator, I could still get my recommendation. I looked at Jordan again, but his eyes seemed to bounce off my gaze. He looked everywhere but straight at me.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Drake, Mr. Fawkes. Thank you for the opportunity to work with you at Draco, but I can’t…”

“Get in the car,” my dad said through his teeth in a voice full of disgust.

I felt like a deflated balloon. I gently pulled away from his hold, and he pressed his car keys into my hand. I did as he said. Behind me, I could hear him continuing his discussion with Adam, their voices fading as I made my way out of the building. I could also hear footsteps. Quick footsteps that sounded as if they were bearing down on me. I glanced over my shoulder to confirm whose they were.

Jordan was coming up behind me quickly, but I didn’t stop. I had to keep walking. I found the car, clicked it open and had the door handle in my hand when he hit the parking lot at a run. “April!” he called.

And, stupid me, I hesitated. He came up beside me but kept his distance—I was thankful for that. I pulled the door ajar and looked up at him. “You’d better not be out here when my dad gets done talking with Adam. It will blow all your efforts at CYA out of the water.”

He clenched his teeth. “I’m not out here to cover my ass. I want to see if you’re okay.”

I laughed at him. What a ridiculous thing to say. I may have been laughing, but at the same time, tears were rolling down my cheeks. I wanted to take back everything I’d ever said to him. I especially wanted to take back those three damning words that he didn’t deserve. I couldn’t, though, because it would be a lie. But right now, I was so angry and so disappointed in him. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t change what my heart wanted.

“April…” He put a hand on my arm and I wrenched it away from him, pulling the car door open wider so that it created a barrier between us.

“No, Jordan. Don’t do that. I’ll take your precious secret to the grave. No need to worry. We were just having sex. It’s over now.”

His face clouded. “That’s really not fair—”

“Not fair? Really? You’re going to tell me what’s not fair? You left me up there on the scaffold alone with that blazing scarlet letter for all to mock. You’re Dimmesdale, cowering in the shadows, wallowing in your shame. That’s not my problem, it’s yours. But don’t ever, ever tell me that I’m worth speaking up for myself. You just proved those words were empty. Because you didn’t speak up for me.”

His face paled then began to redden in anger. “I didn’t ask for that little encounter to be recorded and uploaded to the Internet. That’s all on you, April.”