Page 16

It was all going to plan. In fact, it was going faster than I’d anticipated. My thought was that once I worked my way up the ladder and became editor of The Chronicle or another paper, my life and my family’s lives would get easier. Meeting Rick honestly hadn’t been part of my plan.

My promotion to the lifestyle and leisure section had been the key moment of my life thus far.

At first, I’d seen it as reporting on gossip and pointless things, but it was a stepping stone.

It was during my very first assignment that I met Rick.

He’d approached me the night of a museum opening out of nowhere, flirting and asking me for my number.

He’d been aggressive in his pursuit of me.

In hindsight, I should have pushed for us to take things slower, but the glitz and glamor of his life and his desire to be with me had blinded me.

Some of the things he did reminded me that we led completely different lives.

It was exciting to eat at expensive restaurants and go see shows I could never afford, but that wasn’t something to build a life on, was it?

The longer I was with him, the more I wondered if that life with him was truly what I wanted.

Almost as though my thoughts had summoned Rick, my phone buzzed with a text from him.

Rick: I need to call you. It’s about the gala.

Sighing, I stood and went into an empty office at the back of the newsroom, latching the door behind me before calling him.

“Hey, Rick. I’m at work. Is this really important?”

“Hi, babe,” he said, then proceeded to ignore what I just said. “I was thinking I’d take you to a salon this week. I think it would be good if you got your hair done before you meet my parents.”

My stomach gurgled, but it was more to do with the irritation welling inside me than the lingering nausea.

“What’s wrong with my hair? I’m going to make it look nice.”

Rick chuckled. “Well, sure, it’s nice. I just thought we’d get you a trim, maybe some highlights, and possibly straighten it before the big night. Uh…” He paused awkwardly, then added, “Mom’s not a huge fan of curly hair. So if you get it tamed at the salon, it might make a better impression.”

My teeth ground together as I clenched my jaw.

I’d gotten my mother’s raven hair with faint curls.

It wasn’t like I was walking around with a perpetual perm.

My hair was one of my favorite aspects. I’d always been proud of it; it was something I shared with my mother and my grandmother.

The nausea and headache swept away any inclinations I had about keeping my real feelings hidden.

“No curly hair, huh?” I snapped. “What next? She doesn’t like anyone who isn’t white?”

“What?” Rick said dumbly. “No. Mom’s not like that. She just has preferences, that’s all. This isn’t a huge deal, Cam.”

“If it’s not a big deal, then why the hell am I trying to change for you? Oh, wait, sorry. Why am I trying to change for your parents?” I huffed out a breath.

Rick laughed. Actually fucking laughed. A seething anger boiled up within me.

“Come on, Cameron. You’re being ridiculous. This isn’t something to get angry about. You need to go with the flow more. You want to make a good impression, don’t you? It’ll make things easier later on.”

Did I want to make a good impression? The thought slammed into me.

Rick had pushed and cajoled and used his force of personality to almost bend me to his will and become his girlfriend.

I’d allowed it because he was nice, stable, and easy to get along with.

I’d allowed it because Rick would be a safe choice as a husband.

Now I saw all the shit for what it was. I’d been blind to it all this time, and maybe the attack the other night had opened my eyes to the truth.

I’d let myself get carried away by the idea of Rick rather than the actual person.

He was still talking, but I wasn’t listening. Instead, I stared at the wall of the empty office as I came to an earth-shattering conclusion. One that hurt, one that terrified me, but I couldn’t deny it anymore.

“We’re done, Rick,” I mumbled, cutting him off.

“What? You need to get back to work? We’re trying to have a conversation here.”

“That’s not what I mean. I do need to get back to work, but that isn’t what I’m talking about.”

I didn’t want to do this over the phone. It was the coward’s way out, but I also didn’t want to drag this out for several days.

“I mean, Rick, that this relationship is over. I can’t do this anymore. I’m obviously not what you and your family want, and I don’t know if you’re what I want.”

There was silence at the end of the line, and it went on for so long that I thought he’d hung up. When he finally spoke, he sounded like he’d been kicked in the stomach.

“Cam… you can’t mean that. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it. Don’t, uh, don’t worry about your hair. It’s okay. I shouldn’t have said anything, It’s fine. Maybe you can just pull it back in a bun or something so Mom doesn’t?—”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I hissed. Any guilt I had evaporated. “This is over. We’re done, Rick. I’m not changing for you or your mother. I’ll figure out later how to get any stuff I have at your place. Right now, I’m going back to work.”

Before Rick could respond, I ended the call and stared at my phone.

It felt strange. Somehow, it was like I’d done something right and liberating, but at the same time wrong and devastating.

I’d broken up with my boyfriend, the guy I’d spent almost a year with, and for the last several months had imagined as my husband.

Now that was over. Done. I was single, and that sort of terrified me. Yet, it also made me feel good. It meant that I was free to do as I chose, but…

Had I been too hasty? Ever since that guy jumped me in the parking garage, my life had been turned upside down. I had a new perspective on things. Yet, that didn’t mean I couldn’t make mistakes.

Well, either way, what was done was done. I’d either regret it and get on with my life, or be relieved and still get on with my life.

Heaving a weary sigh, I stepped out of the office and hurried back to my desk.

I kept my eyes down, not wanting to talk to anyone.

When I sat at my desk, I did very little work.

I stared at my computer screen, debating the pros and cons of what I’d done for God only knew how long before I was interrupted.

“Here you go, chica. You look like you need this,” Megan, Brent’s secretary, said as she set a paper cup of coffee on my desk.

“Do I look that bad?” I asked.

She leaned on the cubicle and smiled sympathetically. “I’ve seen people look better after a night of pounding shots, honey.”

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” I picked up the cup, every movement sluggish.

“Drink up. Maybe you’ll feel better.”

She walked away, leaving me to stare at the steaming cup of coffee. All I could think of was the acidic liquid pouring into my stomach. That did nothing to help my nausea. Pushing the cup to the edge of my desk, I tried my best to focus on my work and forget about Rick.

The article about the festival wasn’t working.

For some reason, I couldn’t get the words out the way I wanted.

Part of it, I was sure, was from the stress of having just broken up with my boyfriend.

The rest was that everyone was being so freaking loud today.

It seemed like everywhere I looked, people were crowding around my cubicle, chatting and laughing.

It made my headache even worse. At that very moment, two women I didn’t even know had chosen my work area to chat about a date the night before.

“So, what was he like?” the blonde asked.

“He was cute and smart,” the redhead admitted. “But… I don’t know. There was no spark. Does that make sense?”

“Spark? You mean no fireworks?”

“Exactly,” the redhead said. “I didn’t get that tingle. No butterflies in my stomach. It was just, blah, you know?”

The conversation drew me away from my work again. A spark? Had I ever had that with Rick? Not that I could recall. I’d been too shocked that a guy in a tux, one who was obviously well off and handsome, was hitting on me. I’d been excited when that happened, hadn’t I?

Wracking my brain, I tried to recall that night all those months ago.

If I was being honest with myself, I’d never felt a spark with Rick.

I’d been too intrigued by the transactional nature the relationship might have.

God, was I that shallow? That desperate for a better life?

I liked Rick. He was charming and kind, but there really wasn’t a lot more than that.

He’d been so aggressive in his attempts to woo me that I’d had a hard time saying no. Not to mention how intimidating he was.

I supposed I’d simply looked at the good things I could see. A life with him would have been secure and pleasant, but would we ever have had those fireworks these women were talking about? Have I ever had that feeling? Not with Rick, that was for sure, and it made my decision seem even more right.

But could anyone make me feel that way?

Nate’s cocky grin filled my mind, and a flush of heat spread through my chest. Despite my best wishes, and maybe fueled by whatever sickness I had, I remembered that moment when I’d been pressed to his chest. Then, like a damn psychopath, I imagined what it would have been like if we’d both been naked.

My nipples hardened, and a pleasant warmth surged between my legs.

“Well, well, well. Looks like we meet again,” a voice said.

I jerked as though slapped, almost falling from my chair as I whirled to find Nate staring at me. Dressed in jeans, boots, a leather jacket, and sunglasses perched on his head, he leaned on the wall of my cubicle, looking down at me with that same cocky grin I’d just been fantasizing about.

Had my fever spiked? Was I hallucinating? What the fuck was going on?

“Good afternoon, Ms. Torres,” another familiar voice said.