Page 48

I can’t believe I did that.
I press my hands to my face, but it doesn’t stop the thoughts from crashing down on me like waves. The confrontationwith Cole replays in my mind on a relentless loop—my raised voice, his anger, the things we both said. And then his words, sharp and angry: You’re fired.
My stomach churns violently, and I double over, gasping for air. He said he wasn’t firing me—now. But what about later? When he’s had time to think? There’s no way he’s going to keep me around after this. No one stands up to Cole Wagner like that and keeps her job.
I was stupid. So, so stupid.
Tears sting my eyes as I slide down and my knees hit the floor. My hands are shaking so badly I can barely wipe my face. What am I going to do if he fires me? I don’t have an apartment to go back to. I don’t have another job lined up. I’ll have nothing.
What was I thinking? How could I let it get that far? My stomach revolts, and I feel like I’m going to throw up.
I had no right to speak to him like that. He’s my boss. What the hell am I going to do?
My breath hitches as the panic tightens its grip. My breathing is unsteady and erratic, the scent of chlorine faint but distinct. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.
When I walked into his office, I wasn’t planning on yelling at him. I wasn’t planning on pushing him like that. But the moment I saw him sitting there, calm and dismissive, my angerexploded.
The walls feel like they’re closing in, the room too small, the air too thick.
It was like I became someone else entirely.
My vision blurs as the edges go dark, my chest tightening to the point of pain.
It’s all too much.
Something cold touches my wrist, and I jerk.
The shock is enough to snap me out of the downward spiral, and my eyes fly open.
Ellis is crouched in front of me, his expression calm, and his gray eyes steady as they meet mine.
“Breathe,” he says, his tone brisk but not unkind. “In through your nose, out through your mouth. Slowly.”
I nod weakly, trying to follow his instructions. My breaths come in shaky gasps at first, but with each inhale, the black around my vision recedes.
“That’s it,” he says after a moment, his voice softer now. “Just keep going.”
It’s a while before my breathing evens out, but when it does, my body starts to tremble.
Ellis pulls back a bit and takes my hand, supporting my arm as he helps me stand.
“Come on. Let’s get you off the floor.” I grip his hand, surprised by how steadyit feels against my trembling fingers. He helps me to my feet and leads me to a small couch against the wall.
“Hold this here,” he says, putting the cold cloth back on my wrist. I realize then that it’s a towel wrapped around ice.
Once I’m seated and he’s made sure I’m still holding it to my wrist, he walks away but not very far. There’s a kitchen on the far side of the surprisingly big room.
As I sit there, my surroundings start to come into focus for the first time. The space is sleek and modern, with clean lines and neutral tones. There’s a small kitchen tucked into one corner, a plush sectional couch, and large windows that let in the sunlight.
It hits me all at once—this is the pool house.
The room is calming in its simplicity. The neutral tones of the decor—white walls, taupe furniture, and accents of deep gray—are sleek but not overly modern. It’s not a space I’ve ever been in before, and the faint scent of chlorine in the air reminds me of the pool just beyond the wide glass doors.
I stare at the plush sectional couch across from me, my eyes tracing the careful arrangement of soft throw pillows, their crisp corners untouched by time. The pool house is immaculate, almost sterile in its perfection.
It occurs to me that Ellis might already have been in here. Hell, maybe he lives here. Truth is, I don’t know where his rooms are yet, so I might’ve crashed right into his livingroom.
Ellis walks back toward me, a glass of water in hand. He offers it without a word, and I take it, my fingers brushing his briefly. The glass is cool against my skin, the condensation dripping slightly onto my palm.