Page 79 of The Other Side

She pecks a kiss there.

Only for her to promptly exit the room.

Mumbling commences in the near distance. I stand motionless, my eyes tethered to the stainless-steel fridge Callie was just parked in front of.

My mind and heart race simultaneously.

Until their paths crash and burn.

“Brant. I hope you took good care of those drawings on the way over here.”

Jesse’s voice punches me from behind, his haughty intonation bolting my jaw.

I turn to find him rolling up his dress shirt sleeves, revealing a Rolex on his left wrist. “Absolutely,” I answer, drawing a sip of the cold water.

“Callie!” Jesse’s head angles to the side as he calls for her.

In the same breath, I avert my attention to the window over the sink on the opposite wall. I hear Callie’s heels stroll along the wood, and then Jesse’s voice after.

“Babe, I know you love to impress guests, but I asked you to get me a drink like twenty minutes ago.”

Rage pierces my skin.

Hooking into it until it gouges out my heart.

“What would you like?” she asks.

She doesn’t apologize.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll get it,” Jesse replies, his tone a friendly condescension. Manipulative. “Next time, just don’t forget your fiancé, okay?”

I pan my attention to peek over at Callie. Her gaze flings to me before landing on his. “Sure.”

Her voice is brisk, and then she turns to walk off.

Again, she didn’t apologize.

“When you’re done checking out my fiancé, you can hand me the drawings you finalized.”

If he wasn’t my client and my firm wasn’t getting paid by him, I would’ve laid this motherfucker out already.

I steer my head in his direction. “I wasn’t,” I simply state.

Jesse paints an arrogant smirk on his lips as he fires a breathy laugh. “Listen, when you get a dime like Callie, you don’t mind when other guys admire her.” Then he’s shaking his head. “I’m not offended.”

“Why’s that?” I ask, unamused.

“Every guy likes his ego stroked. You should understand if you ever get a fine piece like her,” Jesse answers, strolling up to the kitchen island.

A storm bustles inside of me. My hands flinch when he swipes the rolled-up drawing off the granite. He walks to the dining room, and I save an extra second for myself before following his lead.

If there’s one more off-color remark about Callie that spews from his mouth, I’ll lose my job and be sent to jail.

It’s not a question.

It’s a certainty.

“Shouldn’t both of you look at the finalized drawings?” I toss out, idling at the mahogany