Chapter 147

  I hurriedly pick up the remains of my clothes from the floor and throw them in the kitchen trashcan. I leave his clothes folded on a chair in the room and discard the condom packet. I don’t know why I’m trying to hide this now; she’s already seen it, and I’m guessing by the raised voices, she’s making that clear.

  Like a guilty, dirty secret, as if I’m his mistress and she’s the wife showing up and catching us, I’m scurrying around trying to erase what I’ve done. I’m also trying not to listen at the door, my heart doing some sort of cha-cha as I rush in circles. I’m completely out of control, all traces of PA Emma banished; my palms are clammy and cold, and I feel physically sick.

  I creep back to my room and turn on the shower. I need to clean his smell off me, eradicate the memory of how he felt. I need to wipe away my shame and get back that cool, calm PA who would know how to handle this. That is one of her job skills: handling awkward situations.