The Perfect Life (The Perfect Stranger #4) - Charlotte Byrd Page 0,3

him anymore,” I say. “We broke up.”

“Really?”

I nod and hang my head.

“Well, I'm sorry to hear that,” Trisha says, tapping her pen on the table.

I get the feeling that there's something else that she wants to talk about that she doesn't know how to bring up.

What if it has something to do with my job?

What if she actually wants me to stay?

“Trisha, I was wondering if maybe you would reconsider this whole situation. I really enjoy working here and I'm going to work really hard at finding my own clients and growing the practice. I feel like we have all become family here, don't you think?”

This is my not so sly way of asking for my job back.

“So, you think that we are family?” Trisha asks.

I nod.

“You think that family members should be honest with each other, right?”

“Of course,” I say, my voice getting quiet.

I don't know where she's going with this, but it's starting to feel like a trap.

Trisha plays with her pen and then puts it down on the table. It makes a loud clinking sound that catches me off guard.

“Why don't you tell me the truth about where you were on your trip?” Trisha asks.

“What are you talking about?”

My blood runs cold. I can't feel the tips of my fingers or my toes. I stand before her holding my breath and hoping that this moment will pass and go away if I just stand still enough.

Unfortunately, it doesn't.

While I remain unmoving, my mind goes the speed of light.

What does she know? Does she know about Tyler?

No, of course not, how could she? My thoughts vary, but they keep going around the same circle. I'm terrified of the fact that she knows the truth about where I was and with whom.

“You said that you met this guy on Facebook, right?” Trisha asks, sitting back in her chair.

I move my lips to say yes, but I'm not sure if anything comes out.

“No, that's not true,” Trisha says, shaking her head.

I swallow hard and stare at her like a deer in headlights.

“My computer stopped working earlier today and yours was the only one that was available.”

“You used my laptop?” I ask, incensed.

“The office one,” Trisha clarifies. “The one that I bought you.”

“Okay…” I say silently, pursing my lips.

“I had to print out some stuff and then decided to go on Facebook and you were logged in. Your messenger popped up as soon as I opened it and I saw that you did not have any conversations with a mystery man. Not at all.”

“You went through my stuff? You read my messages?” I ask.

I feel angry and out-of-control just like I did when I caught my mom reading my diary when I was twelve years old. “That’s my private account! You had no right to go through my messages.”

“Maybe not, but I did and you know what I found out?”

I shake my head while tapping my foot on the floor, trying to make all of the anger that's simmering within me dial down.

“I found out that you were lying about that guy.”

I shake my head.

“You told me that you met on Facebook.”

“I did,” I insist.

“I didn't mean to log into your account but once I clicked on it the messages just popped up and there were none from him. The thing is, Isabelle, that I don't even care that you lied about that. You have a right to a private life and to date whomever you want. The one thing that I'm upset about is the fact that you lied to me about what you were doing that week. You took all of this time off and then you lied to me about why.”

“I'm tired of this,” I say, looking straight in her eyes. “I don't owe you an explanation. I took time off because I needed it and that's it. I had the days saved up. You had no right to invade my privacy. You had no right to scour through my computer looking for who I was or wasn’t with or where I was and wasn't.”

The words hit her as if they were an actual blow to her body, forcing her to sit back in her seat.

“I have one more client to see this afternoon and then we are done.”

3

Isabelle

I have never quit a job before.

At first, walking out of Trisha's office, I feel a huge weight of relief lift off my shoulders.

By the time I get home, I realize that all I did was cut off one week