“Yes. And I think you’re making way too big a deal out of it.” She took a sip of wine, curled up on the opposite couch, casually, and completely immune to my glare. “Honey, you hate lying. You hate lying so much, it’s a surprise you haven’t broken out into hives. Because of that, you’re making what happened today into something it’s not.”

Slumping down onto the other couch, I put my own glass of wine on the glass coffee table and rethought the events of today.

It was Thursday, almost a week since I’d texted Rhys about the strippers, and I still hadn’t seen him. There had been no need. Or so I thought. While I was minding my own business at work that day, Pete from payroll had wandered over to my desk to ask a question. However, our office was small and open plan. The only person who had walls enclosing their office was Jackson. Everyone else… no walls. Which meant conversation traveled.

“So,” Pete said, eying me speculatively instead of walking away upon my answer to his overtime question, “you and the boxer aren’t together anymore.”

My heart fluttered unpleasantly. “Excuse me?” I saw heads turn out of the corner of my eye.

“Well, you never talk about him, you’re always here so you’re clearly not with him, and Evan”—he gestured to our tech guy across the room—“said you two weren’t that cozy at Fairchild’s yacht party.”

And they said women gossiped.

I cut a look at Evan who blushed beet red and slid down on his chair to hide behind his desktop.

Turning my attention back to Pete, I tried not to sneer. I liked all my colleagues at Horus, except for Pete. He was the one who took great glee in telling me it was doubtful Fairchild would allow Jackson to keep me on after the six months was up. There was something sneaky and petty about Pete, and I had to wonder if he was jealous he never got invited to our events with Fairchild.

“Cozy?” I attempted to sound casual.

“No kissing, you barely touched him. You left the party early and then no more Rhys.”

“That’s not true.”

“So why do you never talk about him?” Pete sat on the edge of my desk.

I huffed. “You don’t talk about your personal lives. What? Because I’m a woman, I should?”

He scowled. “We refer to our personal lives. Say, when we leave the office at a respectable time, we always mention it’s because our partners are waiting for us.”

I glared around the room and saw heads jerk back to their computers.

Anxiety filled me.

“Evan said Rhys seemed into you, but it doesn’t surprise me that you’re not into him. You’re from different worlds after all.”

Seriously? Who was this guy? And Evan needed to shut up. I narrowed my eyes on Pete, suddenly wondering if his problem with me was more personal than I’d realized. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had taken a dislike to me because I came from a privileged background and a well-known family.

Still, Evan, the little gossip, had said Rhys seemed into me but I wasn’t into him? All this time I was worried Rhys would let me down and it was me who was screwing up.

A knot tightened in my gut. “I’m just very private,” I replied. “Rhys and I are still together.”

“Pete, don’t you have other things to do?” Jackson’s voice cut through the room as he strode out of his office toward us.

Pete jumped off my desk. “Of course, sir.” He threw me a look, as if I were the reason he got caught not working, and hurried across to his side of the room that I would now refer to as the Creepy Pete Department.

Jackson wound around the desks and stopped in front of mine. He smiled down at me. “I’m glad to hear you and Rhys are still together because we’ve booked a paintball tournament. Everyone in the office is going and they’re bringing their partners. You should bring Rhys. I have no doubt he’ll make things interesting.”

Confused, I asked, “Paintball?”

“A team-building exercise. I’ve done it before, and it works great in bringing a team together. Even when you’re on opposite sides.” He flashed me a cheeky smile. “A little competition is invigorating and since you’re new here, I’d really like to see you there.”

“Of course.” Paintball. My idea of hell. Yay. But wait! “Is it environmentally friendly?”

Jackson grinned. “The shells and fill are biodegradable, yes.”

“Okay.” Damn it. “I’ll be there.”

“And Rhys too?”

I nodded. “I’ll ask him.”

The rest of the day I’d spent worrying instead of focusing on work, and then I’d come home to Zoe, still agitated.

As I told her about Pete, I realized I couldn’t keep up the Rhys charade. I was a terrible liar, my colleagues already didn’t believe in our relationship, and they were really not going to believe in it if we joined the paintball tournament.