And no, I wasn’t bitter.
Not one damn bit.
6
Zara
Most of the lights were out when I got back to the office. Had I known I was going to be gone all day, I’d have brought everything with me. The stack of invoices to process from vendors, Valerie’s expense reports, and the vendor samples to organize would only be waiting for me in the morning, if I didn’t take care of them tonight. Somehow my position had become the catch all, but maybe not for much longer.
A sneaky yawn escaped. I cracked my back, blinking hard to keep my eyes open.
“Nice of you to show up.”
My neck and shoulders tightened. Since a massage wasn’t in the cards, finding relief would mean grinding a tennis ball and my back against the wall like a grizzly bear in those toilet paper commercials.
Every word was a grating, passive-aggressive, backhanded comment, but I bit my tongue like I’d done since my very first day. What choice did I have? She was a known entity. I could handle her and let every insult roll off my back—at least, I could try to. This job was what I needed to keep Ty and me off the streets, and I’d do everything in my power to keep it and not let him down.
“I had some things for you to do.” Valerie’s nasal, entitled voice was like needles to my brain.
“The Winthorpe project took longer than I thought to set up. I came back to finish a few things, but now I’m going home.” I shut down my computer.
She was in full make up, a shimmery, sequined dress, and heels.
“I stopped by to pick up Daddy’s company card. Mine is maxed out.”
From the stack of receipts I’d gone through, I didn’t doubt that.
“Have a great night.” My cheeks ached at my forced smile.
She held up her freshly manicured fingers in front of her. “Entertaining clients requires a certain level of expertise. Maybe someday you’ll understand.”
Was she entertaining them with her mouth? “You’re right. Maybe one day I’ll be as good as you.”
Her dismissive snort was her way of saying goodbye. Thankfully, my doorway was empty by the time I stood up; she’d only stopped by for snide remarks. At this point, I didn’t care. Nothing mattered but getting this account. Winthorpe would be mine. The bonus would be mine. And for ten whole minutes, I’d feel like the world wasn’t on the verge of crashing down around my ears. The way things had been going, I’d take it.
Walking home, I went over everything we still needed to hammer out tomorrow before our meeting on Wednesday. Every idea I’d thrown out had been shot down by Leo. What the hell did he know? What was his experience? Could he sense my inexperience? Did I not actually know what I was doing?
Don’t let him get into your head. You’ve been around the business for two years now. You know this stuff. He’s an asshole and you don’t need him. By the time, I made it to my apartment I’d funneled all my day’s shittiness back to Leo.
In my apartment lobby, a guy held the elevator open for me. Wow, an actual gentleman.
“Thanks,” I mumbled and jabbed the button for my floor, leaning against the wall to stay on my feet. Had I even slept last night? Could I have one day where my feet didn’t feel like they were angry after everything I’d put them through?
Feed his tie into the shredder. Or maybe use the stapler to—
“Are you talking to me?” The guy with the loosened tie and briefcase asked with his shoulder pressed hard against the wall opposite me.
“What? No, sorry, I was talking to myself.” More like grumbling out all the ways I’d murder Leo if he screwed up this pitch. Once we won the job, all bets were off, but I needed him until then. Winthorpe wanted Stark and Easton on this month-long event extravaganza, but it didn’t mean I was above letting everyone know, once we’d won, how much of the work I’d done on my own. Rose and raspberry are the same? Was he out of his mind? Okay, they were close, but come on. These were important details in our industry.
The doors opened and the guy sprinted into the hallway with his briefcase clutched against his chest with a single look back, like he wanted to be sure I hadn’t followed him to carry out my plans of homicide.
He jumped at my apologetic smile as the doors closed.
Ha! Welcome to feeling like a woman, buddy.
Trusting Leo to help me pull this off would end up like every group project I’d ever been involved in. Never trust someone else when your ass was on the line, or you’d get burned. A lesson I’d learned early and often.
The ding for my floor zapped the energy out of me. My apartment had never been a refuge and now it sucked my will to live like living on the edge of a hell mouth or with a succubus.
“Zara!”
I jumped at my name shouted in the previously vacant hallway. Her Spidey sense tingled the second I stepped off the elevator and, no matter what, she always grabbed me. It probably wasn’t the worst thing to know someone who always seemed happy to see me, but did she always have to be so excited?
“Hey, Stella.” I stood in front of my door with my key in the lock, not opening it. I’d stand out here until I grew cobwebs, rather than let her catch even a glimpse inside.
“Can I talk to you for a second?” In her plush ducky slippers and matching robe, she waved me into her apartment. With a quick glance down the hallway, she widened the door for me to come in, while keeping her gaze locked onto the elevator like we were about to do a drug deal.
“What’s up, Stella?”
“Your shirt’s different from this morning.”
I squeezed my forehead, warding off the pounding headache threatening to send me into lights-out territory. A dark, quiet space was what I needed. And sleep. “It’s been a day.” The words leapt from my mouth, sharper than I had meant them to.
Her shoulders dropped.
Fuck. Stella was the nicest, sweetest person ever and I was an asshole. “I’m sor—”
“I think Adam’s cheating on me.”
I couldn’t have been more surprised if she’d walloped me with a thirty-pound tuna. At least my snapping hadn’t been the sunny mood killer.
But then my brain cycled back through her words.
“Adam? As in your boyfriend, Adam? The one who learned to braid your hair when you sprained your wrist?”
She toyed with the end of the French braids hanging down over her shoulders and nodded.
“The Adam who nearly got frostbite when he went out in last winter’s blizzard to get you a box of Butterscotch Krimpets and hot chocolate because you ran out?”
She bit her bottom lip. “He’s being so weird lately. And he flies out this weekend.”
“For his first residency interviews. The same ones you forced him to take since he only wanted to apply to schools in the tristate area to be near you.”
Ducking her head, she crossed one foot over the other, smoothing the poor plush duck head under foot. “I know, but he’s been so off lately.”
“Maybe he’s nervous about the interviews. They determine whether he’ll get a residency placement and become a doctor. He’s the sweetest guy ever. Don’t work yourself up over something that’s most likely nothing.”