The Love Hypothesis by Ali Hazelwood

Olive closed her eyes and nodded, taking a step back. Fine.
It was fine. It was Adam’s right not to talk to her. “Okay. I’m
sorry, I—”
“Not you. Tom, leave us.”
Oh. Oh. Well, then.
“Dude,” Tom said, sounding amused, “you can’t just get up
from the table in the middle of an interview dinner and—”
“Leave,” Adam repeated.
Tom laughed, brazen. “No. Not unless you’re coming with
me. We’re collaborators, and if you act like an asshole during
a dinner with my department because of some student you’re
screwing, it will reflect poorly on me. You need to come back
to the table and—”
“A pretty girl like you should know the score by now. Don’t
lie to me and say you didn’t pick out a dress that short for my
benefit. Nice legs, by the way. I can see why Adam’s wasting
his time with you.”
Neither Adam nor Tom had seen Olive take out her phone,
or press Play. They both struggled for a second, confused—
they’d clearly heard the words but were unsure where they
came from. Until the recording restarted.
“Olive. You don’t think I accepted you into my lab because
you are good, do you? A girl like you. Who figured out so
early in her academic career that fucking well-known,
successful scholars is how to get ahead. You fucked Adam,
didn’t you? We both know you’re going to fuck me for the same
reason.”
“What the—” Tom took a step forward, hand extended to
grab the phone from Olive. He didn’t get far, because Adam
pushed him away with a palm on his chest, making him
stumble several steps back.