Then I stepped out from behind the plant.
“Ryan.”
He turned.
The color drained from his face.
Megan dropped her coffee cup.
It struck the floor, splashing across the polished tiles.
A nearby employee hurried over with a cloth.
“I’m so sorry,” Megan stammered.
She was staring at me as if the spilled coffee were the worst thing that had happened.
Ryan stood frozen.
“Kylie.”
I looked at the two cups of coffee, the suitcase beside his leg, and Megan’s hand still resting against his chest.
“Is this part of your business meeting?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Megan stepped toward me.
“Kylie, please. Let me explain.”
I moved backward.
“Don’t.”
She stopped.
I looked at Ryan.
“How long?”
He glanced at Megan.
“Can we talk somewhere private?”
I almost laughed.
“Yesterday, you kissed my best friend in front of half a plane. Today, you’re kissing her in a hotel lobby. And now you want privacy?”
