“Hi,” I said, forcing my voice steady. I gave her Troy’s full name and explained that I was his new assistant. “I need to book his usual room.”
I entered the hotel’s number into my phone.
“Of course,” the concierge said without hesitation. “He’s a regular. That room is basically reserved for him. When would he like to check in?”
I couldn’t breathe.
“I… I’ll call back,” I managed, and hung up.
***
When Troy came home the next evening, I was waiting at the kitchen table with the receipts. He stopped short in the doorway, keys still in his hand.
“What is this?” I asked.
I was waiting at the kitchen table with the receipts.
He looked at the paper, then at me.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
He stood there, jaw tight, shoulders stiff, staring at the receipts like they were something I’d planted to trap him.
“I’m not doing this,” he finally said. “You’re blowing it out of proportion.”
“It’s not what you think.”
“Blowing it out of proportion?” My voice rose. “Troy, the money’s been disappearing from our account, and you’ve visited that hotel eleven times over the past few months without telling me. You’re lying about something. What is it?”
“You’re supposed to trust me.”
“I did trust you. I do, but you’re not giving me anything to work with here.”
He shook his head. “I can’t do this right now.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
“You’re lying about something. What is it?”
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