Page 152
Story: The Boss Situation
She chose me once. Will she do it twice?
I pacethe length of my loft with my hands shoved deep into my pockets. It’s well after eight, and I know Billie’s home. I watched her enter the building from my window. Every step feels heavier; each second stretches into eternity. She’s not coming over. Can I blame her?
Billie saw everything, the entire truth. Project Glass Slipper was a secret I’d carried for thirteen years, and it was exposed in theharshest light possible. She deserves answers, an honest, unfiltered explanation. I owe her that.
My phone buzzes, pulling me away from my racing thoughts.
Nick
Well?
Asher
She didn’t show.
On the way to my loft, I gave him the abridged version of what had happened.
Nick
I’m sorry. I’m sure she needs time to process it.
I glance at the chicken Alfredo and breadsticks I made for tonight, no longer feeling hungry. I toss the phone aside, trying to calculate my next move. I miss her.
My eyes glance at the painting she gifted me of my sister, and I scan over the words at the bottom.
I leave my loft and stand in front of Billie’s door. Intimidation isn’t something I typically experience, but right now, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. My palms grow sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants. My nerves take hold as I knock softly, using our secret knock.
A minute passes, and her not answering is an answer. As I turn to walk away, the door slides open. She’s standing in sweatpants and an oversize hoodie with red eyes. She’s been crying, and it hurts me, knowing I’m the cause of that.
“Princess,” I whisper.
“Don’tprincessme,” she says.
“Whatever you say, Ice Queen.” I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t return it. I lower my voice. “Billie, please.”
“You have five minutes,” she replies, stepping to the side to let me inside.
I enter, knowing we can’t be seen talking to one another, just in case Mrs. Chambers catches us. Neither of us trusts her.
I face her. “I was wrong. Completely. No justifications, no excuses. I know I broke your trust, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that I’ve always had your very best interest in mind.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Neither do my brothers. I want to make my own mistakes. I don’t need to be guided ormanipulatedto do things. You had every opportunity to tell me when we were in the Hamptons. You chose to say nothing, but you still took notes and wrote journal entries about our time together. I’m your passion project.”
“Oh, you are much more than that to me,” I say. “You’re my person. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m so fucking sorry for not telling you how much you fucking meant to me all those years ago. However, I am not sorry for what I did for you. I am not sorry for making sure you were safe. I am not sorry for cleaning up bullshit articles about you online that should’veneverbeen posted. I’m not sorry that I protected you. I’m also not sorry for loving you. You. Just you. For exactly how you are.”
She tucks her lips into her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Did my brothers force you to be my friend in the Hamptons? And to kiss me that summer?”
“No,” I whisper, tilting my head. “There was nothing fake about our relationship. Ever. We met at a business conference, and they learned I was heading to Stanford. They asked me to look after you. I promised I’d make sure you were safe, and they promised me guaranteed support. They didn’t know we’d met as kids. No one ever knew other than Eden and you. No one tells your brothers no, especially not an eighteen-year-old kid.”
She walks past me, moving into her kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water and drinks. “You continued this after college.”
“You’re my favorite hobby, babe. Everything I wrote, every thought I documented, every moment I tracked—it was because I cared. It’s how I connected with you, knowing I’d never have you.The more you hated me, the more I helped you, and I needed the reminder. Macro, not micro.”
“Turning pain into pleasure,” she whispers.
I nod. “I also continued to help you because of Eden. You were at the top of her list that she was working on behind the scenes.”
“Then why did you work with Josh?” she asks.
I pacethe length of my loft with my hands shoved deep into my pockets. It’s well after eight, and I know Billie’s home. I watched her enter the building from my window. Every step feels heavier; each second stretches into eternity. She’s not coming over. Can I blame her?
Billie saw everything, the entire truth. Project Glass Slipper was a secret I’d carried for thirteen years, and it was exposed in theharshest light possible. She deserves answers, an honest, unfiltered explanation. I owe her that.
My phone buzzes, pulling me away from my racing thoughts.
Nick
Well?
Asher
She didn’t show.
On the way to my loft, I gave him the abridged version of what had happened.
Nick
I’m sorry. I’m sure she needs time to process it.
I glance at the chicken Alfredo and breadsticks I made for tonight, no longer feeling hungry. I toss the phone aside, trying to calculate my next move. I miss her.
My eyes glance at the painting she gifted me of my sister, and I scan over the words at the bottom.
I leave my loft and stand in front of Billie’s door. Intimidation isn’t something I typically experience, but right now, I feel it in the pit of my stomach. My palms grow sweaty, and I wipe them on my pants. My nerves take hold as I knock softly, using our secret knock.
A minute passes, and her not answering is an answer. As I turn to walk away, the door slides open. She’s standing in sweatpants and an oversize hoodie with red eyes. She’s been crying, and it hurts me, knowing I’m the cause of that.
“Princess,” I whisper.
“Don’tprincessme,” she says.
“Whatever you say, Ice Queen.” I give her a small smile, but she doesn’t return it. I lower my voice. “Billie, please.”
“You have five minutes,” she replies, stepping to the side to let me inside.
I enter, knowing we can’t be seen talking to one another, just in case Mrs. Chambers catches us. Neither of us trusts her.
I face her. “I was wrong. Completely. No justifications, no excuses. I know I broke your trust, and I will spend the rest of my life proving that I’ve always had your very best interest in mind.”
She shakes her head. “You don’t get it. Neither do my brothers. I want to make my own mistakes. I don’t need to be guided ormanipulatedto do things. You had every opportunity to tell me when we were in the Hamptons. You chose to say nothing, but you still took notes and wrote journal entries about our time together. I’m your passion project.”
“Oh, you are much more than that to me,” I say. “You’re my person. And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m so fucking sorry for not telling you how much you fucking meant to me all those years ago. However, I am not sorry for what I did for you. I am not sorry for making sure you were safe. I am not sorry for cleaning up bullshit articles about you online that should’veneverbeen posted. I’m not sorry that I protected you. I’m also not sorry for loving you. You. Just you. For exactly how you are.”
She tucks her lips into her mouth, tears streaming down her face. “Did my brothers force you to be my friend in the Hamptons? And to kiss me that summer?”
“No,” I whisper, tilting my head. “There was nothing fake about our relationship. Ever. We met at a business conference, and they learned I was heading to Stanford. They asked me to look after you. I promised I’d make sure you were safe, and they promised me guaranteed support. They didn’t know we’d met as kids. No one ever knew other than Eden and you. No one tells your brothers no, especially not an eighteen-year-old kid.”
She walks past me, moving into her kitchen. She grabs a bottle of water and drinks. “You continued this after college.”
“You’re my favorite hobby, babe. Everything I wrote, every thought I documented, every moment I tracked—it was because I cared. It’s how I connected with you, knowing I’d never have you.The more you hated me, the more I helped you, and I needed the reminder. Macro, not micro.”
“Turning pain into pleasure,” she whispers.
I nod. “I also continued to help you because of Eden. You were at the top of her list that she was working on behind the scenes.”
“Then why did you work with Josh?” she asks.
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