Page 21 of Meet Me In The Dark

“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

Her eyes drop for just a beat before meeting mine again. “Tom and I have known each other for a very long time. These circles we run in always have the same faces.”

I shift in my seat and fold my arms across my chest. “I don’t want it.”

“Don’t ever feel like you’re stuck here out of loyalty to me, Celeste. More than anyone, I want to see you accomplish everything you set your mind to.”

I know she’s telling the truth. Lilian would never hold it against me if I moved on, but I’m satisfied with my career and my place here.

“Your parents would want you to accept.”

My stomach tightens.

Lilian knows the kind of pressure I was raised under. The kind of expectations that weren’t based on happiness, but on achievement.

“Lilian, they’ll always want more. If I accepted the offer, they’d ask why it took me so long. If I ran my own firm tomorrow, they’d ask why it wasn’t global already. Whatever I do, it won’t be enough.”

Her expression shifts to something gentler. “I’m sure they’re proud of you.”

“Are they?” I murmur. “Does it even matter?”

For years, I chased their approval like it was oxygen. I pushed myself to the point of exhaustion trying to earn praise that never came.

My first failure was not choosing medicine like they did.

Through my early twenties, I tried so damn hard to prove them wrong.

Through the long nights, awards, recognition, magazine features, endless hours, and little sleep. Through years of giving my entire self to this career.

Still, it wasn’t enough.

They always found something to pick apart, something to critique, something to hold over me like a red mark on my record.

It was never enough. Not becauseIwasn’t enough, but because their standards were impossible.

Somewhere along the way, I became someoneI’mproud of, and that matters more than anything they’ll never say.

“I’m not interested in the offer,” I tell her, unwavering.

With a sharp nod, she ends the conversation and moves on. “Now, were you coming to see me about something?”

Oh, God.

A sheen of sweat prickles my back.

The invitation is still in my pocket, and I can feel the edge of it pressing against my thigh.

My throat goes dry. “I think…” I swallow and try again. “I think my office is bugged.”

Her eyes widen. “Bugged?”

Nodding emphatically, I whisper, “Yes. As in surveillance. Cameras. Microphones. The works.”

“Your office isn’t bugged, Celeste.”

“Then explain this.”

I reach into my pocket and pull out the envelope before placing it on her desk.