Page 29

“Someone’s in a good mood today. Where did you disappear to on Wednesday, anyway? I came back from a meeting, and you were gone.” Jamie leans against my cubicle wall as the office bustles with excitement.

Unofficial word is out that there should be an announcement on the full-time offers later today and gossip always livens the floor.

My gaze flickers to Jamie, finding her eyes narrowing to slits. The girl is much more perceptive than people give credit for.

Curving my lips into a grin, I fib, “I had a doctor’s appointment and had to leave a bit early. Why, something happened?”

I will my heart to stop racing and hope my face isn’t flushed pink. Burying my lips against the cup, I take another sip, watching Jamie as she purses her lips in contemplation before her eyes turn animated.

“You completely missed it, but Mr. Kingsley left the office before five. Everyone was talking about it. Bradley said he’s been here for five years and has never seen Mr. Kingsley leave before him. There are so many conspiracy theories floating about.”

I turn my face back toward my computer and make a show of staring at the spreadsheets, even though the numbers are not registering in my mind. I feel my face heating as my mind floats back to that night for the thousandth time today.

Sitting with him shoulder to shoulder at the pier, watching one of my favorite movies, was one of the best experiences I had in recent years.

I can still feel the way he’d sneak glances at me throughout the film, the way he curled his arms around me under the guise of keeping me warm from the chilly breeze.

I’ve never felt as safe as I had in that moment.

The way he kissed my neck, and how each suction and swipe of his tongue made me want to tear off his clothes and return the favor. My clit throbbed the entire night, my body ready to combust, and no amount of leg clenching offered any relief.

When he dropped me home that night, because once again, he wouldn’t let me take the subway afterward, he walked me up the steps of my apartment, ignoring the hoots and hollers from the punks on my street.

We stood on the top step, with the pale moonlight shining down upon us and my hands fumbling in my purse for my keys.

When I found them, I looked up, finding his face dipped down slightly, blocking the moon in the inky darkness of the night skies.

But I didn’t need the moon to illuminate my surroundings when he was there, standing mere inches away from me, the warmth from his body wrapping around me like a security blanket. He shone from within, his soul calling to mine, and it was impossible not to notice.

For those few blessed seconds, we stared at each other, oblivious to the cackling of the delinquents in the neighborhood, the backfiring of an old car starting up down the street, the blast of punk rock music from the speakers of a passing car.

Steven stared at me, his eyes turning more heated with each passing second, and my lips parted of their own accord.

My nerves sparked and sizzled, the hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention, and I watched his chest lift and fall rapidly.

His brows furrowed, like he was grappling with something inside him, and I remembered the way my heartbeat careened out of control, ready to dive off the deep end.

“Happy birthday, Steven,” I whispered, our breaths mingling in the small distance between us, cloaking us in our small slice of heaven. Somehow, it felt like I was telling him a lot more than simple birthday wishes.

A muscle in his jaw twitched, and he swallowed. The tawny irises weren’t visible then, long eclipsed by his swirling black pupils. His eyes darted to my lips again, and I felt myself leaning in, almost imperceptibly, and him following suit, but then he stiffened and backed up a smidge.

Enough to tell me the spell was broken.

“Thank you, Grace, for the best birthday I’ve ever had. You’re right, I didn’t need to spend a lot to be happy.”

His voice, threaded with tension and regret, echoes in my mind as I stare at the spreadsheet in front of me, my heart still pounding that staccato rhythm, a pleasure laced pain sifting through my chest.

It’s almost as if I’m grieving a loss for something I’ve never had in the first place.

I remember how my lips trembled when I whispered in his ear, “Steven, you’ll come to learn, I’m always right.”

Riiing.

The blaring of the office phone pulls me out of my brief bout of melancholia, and I mouth my apologies to Jamie, who nods before walking back to her cubicle.

Glancing at the caller ID, I smile.

“Stev—Mr. Kingsley?”

A heavy exhale filters through the phone and a chill seeps through me.

“Grace, can you come in for a few minutes?”

“Y-Yes, sir.”

Minutes later, I sit in his beautiful office, the warm sunlight draping over him in what should’ve been a beautiful moment.

But he looks haggard as he rubs his palm over his jaw, his lips pressed in a firm line.

His forehead pinches, and he takes another deep breath before bringing his cup up to his lips.

Like he’s bracing himself for something bad to happen.

The AC churns on and I shiver as I take in those beautiful hazel eyes, which seem sad and full of regret today.

“Mr. Kingsley? Is everything okay?” I sit up straighter, my fingers twiddling with my shirt, and a heavy sense of foreboding sinks into my chest .

He leans forward and clasps his hands together. “Grace. You’re the best intern on my team this year. Your intelligence and hard work haven’t gone unnoticed. If this were only up to me, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” He pauses as if to gauge my response.

My chest feels like a freight train has slammed into it. I can’t breathe as my mind processes his words. Oh no. This can’t be. I need this job offer. My stomach churns, and I grip the hem of my shirt tightly in my fist.

My skin heats as I stare at my clenched hands, white-knuckled, and an avalanche of emotions buries me alive, turning an otherwise beautiful sunny day into the darkest nightmare.

Anger, indignation, disbelief, grief, and a myriad of burning sensations rob me of my breath and all I can do is to keep breathing, to not fall apart in front of him.

I’ve worked my ass off for this offer and it’s evident.

I deserve it more than anyone else in the internship group.

How could he do this to me?

How dare he?

My mind latches onto the scalding anger, and my nostrils flare.

Steven swallows and continues, “This is out of my hands, but I just found out the three offers were to be given to others. This was a decision made by people above me.”

“But I need the job, Steven. I need…” The large signing bonus. My voice trails off, leaving the last sentiment unsaid as a burning sensation appears behind my eyes. Never show men your fear. Nothing will change. And I don’t want him to feel sorry for me. But the betrayal hits deep.

Heaving in a shaky breath, I look up and whisper, “How could you?”

He flinches at whatever he sees on my face. I grit my teeth and look away.

“I’m going to give you the best recommendation possible. I can call up a few folks to see if there’s an entry level position somewhere for you.”

His words pick up in volume. He sounds desperate, frantic even. “Next year, one of our fall offers will be to you, and I’ll make sure you get an extra bump on the signing bonus. Grace, everything will work out, and I—”

I hold my hand up, my eyes blinking rapidly as the implications of this slowly sink in.

The loan shark payment. The eviction. Taylor’s dream.

Everything that was supposed to be solved by the offer.

Now all my plans are burned to a crisp and suddenly I don’t know what to do anymore.

My lungs are squeezed in a vise and I choke in a deep breath, then another.

It’s okay, Grace. We Peytons will find a way to get out of this. We don’t need to rely on another man’s charity. There are still a few months left before the loan is due. Maybe Steven can come through with recommendations, maybe things aren’t so dire.

My mind swirls with chaos as my breathing quickens into pants.

“Grace?” Steven’s voice sounds worried, but I can’t bring myself to look at him.

He stands up and walks around the desk, leaning down and wrenching my hands away from abusing my shirt. His expensive cologne of the ocean and leather wafts to my face. His palms feel warm and safe.

Illusions. All of it.

Looking at him through my blurry vision, I want to lash out, to scream, and to tell him I desperately need this job. My chest spasms in pain, and while my mind tells me it’s not his fault if the regret radiating from his being is any indication, my heart feels otherwise.

Utter and complete betrayal.

It feels like it has been stabbed a thousand times and the perpetrator is trying to stitch it up, but I’m the one bleeding at his feet.

It’s always the woman.

Letting out a ragged sigh, I swallow the pins and needles in my throat and return his gaze. His eyes are dim with concern, his jaw tense, his hand still clasping mine, his thumb tracing soothing circles on it.

“I-I can’t say I’m not disappointed, because that would be a lie. But I know it’s not your fault…and I…” I release a deep exhale. “I understand. Thank you for telling me the news in person.”

Steven heaves out a heavy breath, as if he were afraid I was going to say something else. He looks down at his hand on mine, his thumb still grazing my skin in a reassuring pattern .

He swallows, his throat rippling. “Grace, I swear, I’ll make this up to you, I’ll—”

“Mr. Kingsley, do you mind if I return to my desk?”

Even though my rational mind knows it’s not his fault, my battered heart doesn’t want to hear anything else from him. Because deep down, an insidious voice is asking, couldn’t he have done something? He’s a vice president.

I need to get away, to breathe and process everything without him being next to me.

I don’t want him to see me cry.

Steven lets go of my hands and his hands curl into fists as he slowly steps away. “Very well. I’m sorry, Grace.”

I scramble off the chair and walk toward the door.

“Grace.” His voice stops me as I pause by the doorway. I still can’t bring myself to look at him. “You still mean a lot to me, friend. I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

The word “friend” feels like a slap in the face.

I nod, unable to answer, and leave the room.

The day passed by in a blur and after management released the offers to the three lucky candidates, the rest of us got to go home early. Next week will be the last week of the internship. Steven was trapped in his office the entire day, and I didn’t get to see him when I left.

My chest is heavy and my shoulders ache from tension as I step into the apartment, my fingers pulling off yet another red eviction notice taped to the door.

Taylor is curled up on the sofa, her eyes red with tears streaming down her face.

My heart plummets to the ground.

Dropping everything to the floor, I hurry toward her. My throat narrows, restricting my airflow, and my heart thumps rapidly in my chest.

My rebellious sister, who defies modern conventions, never cries.

The only time I remember her in tears was when Mom and I picked her up from her sleepover and I told her Uncle Bobby wasn’t going to be with us anymore.

He was family to us at that point. We wrapped our little arms around each other while she sobbed into my chest. Since then, like me, she never grew attached to anyone or anything that would warrant tears.

“Tay? What happened? Please tell me you’re okay.” I wrap my arms around her shuddering frame.

“I’m fine, b-but the loan shark came by. He moved up the date of the payment to next Tuesday. He said something about his boss having cash flow issues.”

Her words ring in my ears and I feel lightheaded.

“What! He said we have another three months.”

“I don’t know. He mentioned the deadline got moved up and if we don’t pay, he’ll hurt Mom. I’m scared, Grace.” She gazes up at me, her eyes bloodshot. “These people are dangerous.”

“Tay,” I whisper, my voice choking up, “I didn’t get the job. I’m so, so sorry. I know we were depending on the signing bonus, but something happened, and—”

Taylor shushes me, her face crumbling at the news. Her eyes take on a determined glint. “I’m going to drop out of the program and find a job, but that’ll take time and it won’t be enough—”

“No! You can’t. You have talent, Tay. Let me think. Give me some time to think.” I get off the couch and pace on the floor.

Even if she gets a job, it’ll hardly make a dent in the amount of money we need right now.

Steven’s recommendations and connections will probably get me something mediocre in a few weeks, as all the excellent offers have most likely been made by large firms by now.

Furthermore, we don’t have weeks. I need something fast and lucrative.

“I’m going to take care of it, Taylor. Don’t tell Mom about any of this. She’ll only worry and there’s nothing she can do, anyway. I’m going to call Belle and see if she knows anyone. She might have some connections. Focus on your classes. Everything is going to be fine.”