“Here, let me help,” she offers, taking the bottle from me so I can get Faith situated. The second the bottle hits Faith’s lips, the room is filled with silence. Rose and I breathe a sigh of relief and listen to the sound of baby girl suckling as she calms herself.
“Have you found a job yet?” she asks, and I cringe. I shift on the seat, hating that I still haven’t gotten one callback. “Don’t do that. I’m not forcing you to get a job, but if you haven’t heard anything, I might know of a position that pays well. Very well, actually.”
I heave a sigh. “I haven’t gotten one callback. It’s like no one wants to hire me.”
Rosalind purses her lips in thought, then leans forward, raising a brow. “How desperate are you?”
“Pretty fucking desperate, Rosie.”
She nibbles on her bottom lip in contemplation for a beat before she sits up straight and cuts to the chase. “I know someone who is hiring, but the job isn’t easy. He’s tough. The guy is downright mean, but the money is good, Daisy. It can help out a lot.”
Everything she’s saying sounds so good, almost too good. Not to mention she looks nervous, and that’s putting me on edge. “What aren’t you telling me, Rosalind?”
“Are you interested or not? Promise me if I get you an interview, you won’t walk out?”
My brows tug down. “Why would I walk out? It’s a job with great pay. There’s only one person I’d—” I cut myself off as realization dawns on me. I’m already shaking my head. “No. Nope. No way.”
She sighs and looks pointedly at the baby in my arms. “What other option do you have, babe?”
My eyes slam shut, and I deflate.
Pain lances through my chest.
She’s right.
I have none.
I can’t believe this is happening.
My nerves are through the roof as I sit in the lobby of the architectural firm where my interview is in less than—I glance down at my phone that’s trembling in my lap—ten minutes. I’m nervous. So incredibly nervous that I feel like I’m going to be sick, and I’m pretty sure my armpits are soaked with sweat.
This was a horrible idea.
He’s never going to go for it.
Sucking in a lungful of air to quell my nerves, I force myself not to dwell. Instead, I try to remain positive. I don’t know what he’s going to say when he sees me. He could be cool about the whole situation. It’s highly unlikely, but it could happen.
I lock eyes with the receptionist, and I swear, I see a hint of sympathy in her eyes—or is that pity? That can’t be good.
The phone has been ringing off the hook since I got here ten minutes ago. She’s beyond professional and capable of her job. When the cab dropped me off here, and I had to crane my neck back to look at the whole building, I knew I was unprepared for what was inside. The building is in the middle of the financial district, and I may not know much about New York life, but I know enough to know that not just anyone can own a building here. Let alone build one so modernized that it stands out amongst the other ones. The modern décor inside is comprised of pristine marble with dark woods and furniture. Sleek and manly. Expensive. It is everything that makes me think of Callan.
The other night, Rosie explained to me that Callan owned his own architectural firm and was looking for an assistant. Over the years, it’s been an unspoken rule between Rose and me not to talk about Callan. No matter what. I didn’t want to know what he was doing with his life. I didn’t care if he was happy or not. Somehow, knowing the truth seemed like it would hurt more than it already did. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want the regret to seep in. The “what would’ve happened if I chose him?” or “what if he would’ve chosen me instead of Skylar?” I shake thoughts of him off, not ready to face my reality just yet.
Apparently, he owns the entire building, but she mentioned other floors are leased to other businesses. But of course, his firm is on the top two floors, overlooking the entire vibrant city beneath us.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I rode the elevator up, but it definitely wasn’t to come face-first with a bustling establishment. The receptionist was fielding calls left and right, all the while offering me beverages and biscuits. People came and went, some with appointments and others wanting appointments. It’s crazy to wrap my head around the fact that they’re all here to see Callan. The boy I grew up with.
The same boy who teased me relentlessly.
The same boy who taught me how to ride a bike.
The same boy who taught me how to kiss.
“Mrs. Fletcher?” My body tenses at the receptionist’s voice and the use of the name. Somehow, I always knew Fletcher wasn’t the right last name for me.
Why didn’t I do something sooner?
“He’s ready for you now, ma’am. Good luck.” She shoots me a smile, but it does nothing to subdue my nerves and the sudden bout of nausea. I push up to my feet, my legs trembling beneath me, threatening to give out on me at any moment. With shaking hands, I straighten my pencil skirt and run my hands over the silk blouse that’s tucked inside.
I follow her from the lobby seating area, past frosted glass-encased offices, all the way past a boardroom, to the biggest corner office of all. The glass is frosted, and the door is closed, just like the rest, but when she raps her knuckles, I hear his voice for the first time in years.
“Come in.”
Chills break out across my flesh. My heart wraps in a constricting vise.
I squeeze my eyes shut momentarily, trying to pull myself together before walking in. I can do this. It’s just Callan Reed. I have nothing to be afraid of.
I was so very wrong.
I had everything to be afraid of when it came to this man.
The second I step over the threshold, the air thickens, and I jerk to a halt. He’s sitting behind his desk, staring down at paperwork, unaware of my existence, but I can’t help the way my mind flashes back, sifting through memories.
I trudge along the sidewalk, walking aimlessly. It feels strange in my house. I have a new cousin slash roommate who isn’t at all what I thought she’d be like. She’s mean and bossy, and as much as I’d like to complain to my mother about it, I can’t. My mom is the whole reason she’s here.
“Why the long face, D?”
I startle at the sound of Callan’s voice. I hadn’t even heard him make a peep, which is just like him. He has a habit of sneaking up on you. “Just needed to get some air, I guess. Feels sort of…claustrophobic at home right now.”
He grunts. “I’m assuming it’s because of the cousin?”
“You’d assume right. I’m trying to stay positive and not let her get to me, but it’s almost as if she’s purposely trying to get beneath my skin. It’s like she wants me to be angry, and that’s just—”
“That’s just not who you are,” he finishes for me. Besides Rose, I don’t think anyone knows me better than Cal. I shoot him a sad smile, confirming I am, indeed, struggling with having my cousin in our lives, though I’d never tell my parents. “Look, I haven’t met her yet, but you’re Daisy Casillas. You can handle anything. I’ve seen it. Hell, I didn’t like you at first either, but you grew on me, didn’t you?” He nudges my side in jest, and I roll my eyes. I have to fight to keep the smile off my face.