Page 51

I poked at my broth. “I know it’s not about recognition. Not really. I’m doing this because I’m passionate about it. Butthen today, I saw the joint Orion and Bellamy Brothers press release.”

“The one that Lacey helped your PR department fashion?” he asked.

“I suppose so. Only It mentioned our team’s initiative… notmyinitiative. My name was nowhere on it.”

His brows drew together. “But you spearheaded it. Everyone knows that. Your name should have been prominent.”

“It’s fine and whatever. It just seemed like another punch in the gut, you know? First, Patterson seemed hesitant at the walk-through. Then Julian. Now the press release doesn’t acknowledge me directly. What if I’m just a placeholder for someone else’s credit?” I realized I was rambling and stopped. “God, listen to me. I sound ungrateful for having this opportunity at all.”

Brooks reached over and squeezed my hand. “No. You sound like someone who’s worked her ass off and wants that to mean something. That’s not selfish, Maisy. That’s being human.”

But inside, the old ache flared. I’d wanted this so badly—this opportunity, this chance to prove I belonged in a place like Orion. And yet, here I was, worrying more about being overlooked than actually finishing the work.

After dinner, we walked a few blocks of New York until it started sprinkling. We ducked under an awning of a closed shop and kissed without a care for anyone watching, heating up as the city lights began reflecting in the wet sidewalk, the air cool and smelling faintly of late spring.

He brushed his thumb over my cheek. “I’ll call us a car. You’re coming home with me tonight, right?”

I hesitated, even as worked up as he got me.

His mouth curved, face questioning. “Maisy?”

“This has been an amazing night. All the nights with you are, Brooks. I-I think need to reset, though. A good night’s sleep in this soft new scented hoodie. Maybe some tea.”

He kissed my forehead. “Okay. But text me when you get home. And yeah, wear that hoodie to sleep in, nothing else under it. It’s part of the science.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Triggers your parasympathetic nervous system. You taught me that, remember?” He winked.

I gave him a soft smile. “You’re too good for me.”

He brought my hand to his mouth and kissed it. “Not possible.”

His car arrived and took me home and, after a lingering kiss in the backseat, I got out and headed toward the door of my building.

But as soon as the car disappeared around the corner, I didn’t go in.

Instead, I called another car to take me back to Orion. Underneath everything, quietly building inside of me, was an anxiety that spread like a wicked ivy. I was powerless to stop it.

When I arrived, the building was quiet, the hum of the city dulled through thick glass. I sat at my workstation and opened three different tabs, rereading my presentation outline and running data again, looking for holes, for patterns,for mistakes.

One hour turned into three. The candle sat unlit in my tote bag. The hoodie draped over my chair, sadly unworn.

I told myself I’d go home after the next round of edits. After one more graph. After one more citation.

This became a pattern. Every night for the final week leading up to the Symposium. Working myself to the bone by day, and perfecting my presentation up all night.

Brooks started noticing something was off. The tension in our texts grew tight, my tone grew clipped, and I backed offof date nights. The only way I knew to ensure success was to double and triple down on work.

Until one evening, Brooks showed up unexpectedly at Orion.

It was almost nine and his knock at my window scared me half to death. “Let me in, Maisy,” he yelled, if I read his lips right through the panes. I definitely read the heated color of his face glaring at me.

I met him at the front door, unlocked it, and let him in, waving off the concerned nighttime security guard.

We didn’t speak until we got to the new wing. Outside of the sensory room, Orion set up a receiving desk for me and I’d been using that.

He set down a bag from a favorite Thai takeout place of mine, and looked too damn handsome for my weary eyes to behold.