Page 3 of The Sweetmate (Check-In #2)

“In a way of sorts, yes. I’ve heard something troubling, and I want to ask you about it. I need you to be honest with me.”

He slowly closes his laptop and gives me his full attention. “Of course. Honesty is the only policy I believe in.”

If that’s true, then what Sterling said must be a lie or a misunderstanding. “It’s kind of personal, but it needs to be addressed.”

“I’m proud of you for being so direct about this.”

Not that I have a choice. My anxiety would never allow me to sit and dwell on this serious matter.

“Have you in any way hindered my career? As in preventing me from being promoted? Again, I’d appreciate your utmost honesty.”

His eyes don’t waver from mine, and his voice holds no remorse. “Yes.”

No. I stare at him for a beat, and still, there’s not a shred of shame on his face. He’s not even blinking.

“Why?” I demand. I’ve never despised a smirk more in my life.

He tilts his head, and his voice comes out smooth. “You know why.”

“No. I don’t. Why would you—how could you be so cruel? What have I done to you?”

He releases a heavy sigh. “It’s what you haven’t done.

” He licks his lips. “But we can fix that. I can make things better around here. I can start treating you differently, and then everyone will start treating you differently. Get you that promotion. An arrangement that will greatly benefit us both.”

“What about honesty? You’re married. You’re my boss.”

“I didn’t lie. I’m being honest. Maybe not ethical.”

My voice turns cold as I stare him down. “You pig.”

He actually oinks at me. I’m officially flabbergasted. I don’t have the ability to process what’s happening right now. This is morally wrong, unprofessional, and sordid.

A voice from outside calls out, “Staff meeting!”

Kourt stands and shoves his hands into his slacks. “We can discuss this later.”

What’s there even to discuss? I open my mouth to tell him that I quit, but Mr. Brunner, the owner of the company, catches my eye through the office windows and waves for me to come out. Reluctantly, I force my feet to carry me out and follow everyone to the giant boardroom.

Life has been one major disappointment after another. I feel so foolish. I thought I was smart and had everything figured out. Do the work and reap the rewards. Simple.

Kourt’s voice whispers in my mind, “Simpleton.”

Maybe I am. I wish life was. Life’s not so simple.

It’s a bitch. It’s unfair. Things aren’t black-and-white, and people pretend to value hard work, morals, and ethics, but they don’t.

Respect is earned, not given—another lie.

There are plenty of people here who haven’t earned the respect I show them.

I feel I have earned it, yet I receive none.

I’ve wasted my life living in the illusion that if I do what I’m supposed to, life will go accordingly.

Because I really am that simple-minded and na?ve. Simpleton.

Mr. Brunner stands at the head of the long table, gripping the back of his chair. There’s a seat available next to him, and he nods toward it. Of course, notes need to be taken, so that’s my assigned spot. Not because anyone wants me to contribute to this meeting.

I hurry between the bodies of people sitting and standing.

Interesting that he’s called everyone in for this.

I settle into the seat and have my tablet ready to record any information Mr. Brunner needs.

Feeling eyes on me, I look up to see I’m seated across from Kourt. He winks, and my stomach churns.

Mr. Brunner clears his throat and greets everyone, so I focus on the task at hand, even though I feel defeated, and this will most likely be my last day with this company.

Unless I can somehow get moved to a different department, but that’s probably wishful thinking.

I’m unsure how to accomplish that without disclosing all that’s been happening.

This has turned into an unnecessarily complicated situation.

I loathe anything unwarranted, especially drama.

“We have a major client who needs content and social media management for two weeks as they compete in a baking challenge in New York City. This is a top pastry chef. We need someone to be accessible to them twenty-four seven. You’ll be sharing a suite.

All expenses paid. But promoting Casey will be the top priority. This isn’t a luxury vacation.”

Sterling’s voice is full of excitement as he asks, “Casey? As in Cakes with Casey?”

“Yes,” Mr. Brunner announces proudly.

Cakes with Casey? That sounds cheesy but cute.

Everyone in the room is buzzing with energy over the announcement of someone I’ve never heard of.

This Casey person must really be some pastry chef.

For Mr. Brunner to call a meeting and want to offer such special attention speaks volumes.

This could be my chance to prove myself.

Kourt’s arm begins to rise, but I’m not about to have any more opportunities taken from me, especially by this jerk.

Before I can overthink the situation, I jump to my feet.

All eyes are on me, and Mr. Brunner’s burning stare leaves me slightly mortified.

Could’ve just raised my hand. I didn’t have to go full body into it. But there’s no backing out now.

Keeping my voice firm and steady, and in my most professional-sounding tone, I make direct eye contact and say, “I’d love the opportunity, sir.”

I started this morning wanting a promotion, and here it is.

This is my moment. Whatever the task is, I can do it and do it well.

I don’t know who Casey is, but I feel confident in my abilities.

I’m not a fan of sharing my space, but I can manage having a temporary roommate.

Plus, Cakes with Casey sounds super cute. I bet she’s bubbly and fun.

Mr. Brunner smiles warmly at me and slowly nods. “You’ve been doing great work, Miss Vinton. You’ve certainly earned the chance to prove yourself. You sure you’re ready to manage your own client?”

“Yes, sir.”

He studies me for a moment. “And being available twenty-four seven which means you’ll be always on duty. This is a serious commitment for the next two weeks. Sharing a space and constant attention devoted to the client.”

“Whatever the job requires, sir.”

My heart feels as though it’s about to come through my chest. In fact, I think my rib cage is cracking from the pressure. I refuse to look, but I can feel Kourt’s snide smile on me.

What’s wrong with me? I never jump into things for this exact reason.

I force myself not to cower as I’m having an internal panic attack.

Underneath the table sounds like a fabulous place to be right now.

Maybe even curled up in a ball. Did I seriously just humiliate myself in front of everyone?

Oh, screw it. This is my last shot, and then I’m quitting anyway.

Besides if I turn it down now it’ll look like I’m not ready for my own client and maybe never was.

It’ll be like proving them right. I’m here to prove them wrong.

“I think you’re exactly who Casey Riis needs.”

Pardon me? Did I hear him correctly? Did he say I’m who our big client needs? Of course I am! I want to fist pump the air, but instead I maintain my composure.

“Thank you, sir.” My chest feels ready to explode. Maybe all this work hasn’t been for nothing.

“You leave tonight.”

Pardon the fuck out of me? “Tonight?”

“Yes. I’ll let Casey know you’ll meet him at the airport at nine tonight. Go home an d pack.”

Wait— him?