16. Lorelei

16

LORELEI

" O f course, you're going to have to travel with him. I thought that would be kind of obvious," Tatum says as he sips on her virgin margarita.

We've had the best night catching up. It feels like it's been a long time since we've all managed to spend some quality time together. But as is usually the case, Cory got a message a few minutes ago, offering him a night of mindless fun, and he bailed, leaving us to finish up our Mexican feast alone.

"I thought I was going to be working for the finance manager, T. I doubt he goes very far."

"Nope. But Kian does. They've got hotels and resorts around the world. You could end up anywhere."

Something flutters in my stomach as I think about the kinds of luxury resorts I know the Callahans own.

White sand, clear blue sea, sun, sun, and more sun.

They offer the kind of vacations that a girl like me can only dream of.

Kian's personality aside, this job sure does have its benefits.

"This is crazy," I breathe, lifting my drink to my lips and taking a big sip. I might have had one real cocktail when we first arrived, but I switched after that. I need to keep a clear head for tomorrow. Kian will be able to see if I turn up unfocused, and he'll never let me forget it.

"Yeah, but awesome. It's so much better than the job you applied for."

"That I applied for?" I ask, lifting a brow.

"Semantics. It was the right thing to do. I felt it in my waters."

"No, that was a baby kicking your bladder," I tease.

"Well, whatever it was, it was one of the best things I've ever done."

"Hmm…we'll see."

"It's going to work out. Now all you need is a man," she says wiggling her eyebrow.

"I do not need a man, T. No freaking way. They're too much trouble."

"I'm not talking for keeps, I'm talking for fun. You need to let your hair down. Get under another to get over the asshole."

"I'm okay."

"Oh, come on. You know some of your old fuck buddies would be down. Ryder," she says holding up one finger. "Harry. Jake."

I cringe. "You make me sound like a whore."

"Hell, no. Just a woman who knows what she wants and enjoys herself while getting it."

"Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I'm good."

Tatum shakes her head. "You'd feel better for it."

W ith my best friend's words ringing in my ears, I let myself into my apartment alone a little over an hour later with a smile on my face.

I needed those few hours with my people.

But as fun as that was, there is a spreadsheet taunting me from my laptop.

Setting myself up on the kitchen island, I lift the lid I slammed down in irritation earlier and prepare to figure out what the hell he did.

What I really want to do is ctrl+alt+z to just get rid of it all. But…the asshole knows what he's doing and that formula he put in did exactly what I was failing to make happen.

Once I understand his thought process and have written it all down, I finally do what I was burning to do the second he took control of my computer and delete it all.

It's a small victory in the grand scheme of things, but still, watching his formulae disappear gives me great satisfaction.

"Right, you can do this, Lorelei. You are going to walk in there tomorrow morning and blow his socks off with this spreadsheet."

I work long after the sun has set, and I get through more cups of coffee than anyone should ever drink this late at night in order to complete it. But finally, I think I get it working as I want it to, and I sit back with a smile playing on my lips.

"Eat your heart out, Kian Callahan," I mutter, double-checking that I've hit save before switching to my emails.

Honestly, I'm not expecting to find any. No one knows I exist yet, and I cleared down everything Kian had forwarded to me earlier in the afternoon. Surely, he hasn't?—

"Motherfucker. Couldn't even give me a night without you, could you?"

I stare at the subject of the email with my mouth open.

Housekeeping?

Tell me he's not expecting me to clean.

I knew all the roles listed were too good to be true.

Hesitantly, I open the email, and what I find has my chin hitting the floor.

"What the…it's my desk," I shriek. And it's hidden behind a freaking plant, for fuck's sake.

Fuelled by anger, caffeine, and exhaustion, I hit the reply button harder than necessary and try to summon up an epic reply.

From: Lorelei Tempest

To: Kian Callahan

Subject: Housekeeping

Dear Kian,

My first day was indeed enlightening, although I'm not sure that's the exact word I'd have used to describe it.

I apologize if my choice of pen has offended you—that was not my intention. I will ensure all my personal items are more discreet in the future.

And, as for your final point, I can assure you, I am in no mood to be watching such entertainment when I am in your company.

Respectfully,

Lorelei Tempest

Assistant to Kian Callahan, CFO

Callahan Enterprises

My hand trembles as I hit send. It might say everything I want to say, but it's entirely too polite.

But then, I guess it will be more fun to tell him to shove his professionalism and stuck-up attitude up his ass in person. I wouldn't get the full effect over email.

I'm still muttering curses as I get ready for bed. I wash the day's makeup from my face before piling my hair on top of my head and wrapping it in my favorite silk scarf, and then I crawl into bed with my cell in hand.

Anger continues to simmer just beneath the surface as I open the photo Tatum sent earlier of the three of us with wide, happy smiles.

She's glowing; it makes me so happy to see. She deserves it more than anyone else I know.

I scroll through my socials, making a point of checking both Wilder's and Hendrix's to find out what they've been up to.

I'm yet to tell them about my job. I didn't want to jinx it. I want to know that it's going to stick before I give them any hope for the future.

The truth is, the pay rise that has come with this job will help them so much more than it will me.

I only need enough money to pay my way here. Every other penny I have goes to them.

They're expensive. Both of them have expensive hobbies that our mother has no interest in helping with. Hell, most days she doesn't have any interest in getting out of bed and making sure they have food, let alone anything else.

She has no idea what their dreams are for the future. She doesn't know that Wilder is good enough to have a real shot at the NFL. She has no idea that Hendrix doesn't just play computer games but builds them, too. She has no idea that both of them plan on going to college as far away from her—and as close to me—as they can get next year. She also has no idea that they have savings accounts open in their names with money that will hopefully help with their dreams. To be fair, they don't know about that either. But they will soon.

No one helped me, and it was so fucking hard that I almost gave up time and time again. I'm glad I didn't. I'm so fucking proud of the fact I stuck at it, even on my darkest days. It would kill me if I knew they both had to go through all of that alone.

I want to help them. I want to see them both succeed. I want to see them embark on the lives they crave, not be stuck in that shithole, drowning as their dreams vanish before their eyes.

I can't help but smile as I flick through the photos Wilder has posted. On the outside, it looks like he's living the kind of high school life that everyone dreams of. He's got friends, girls, looks, and his team. Even though I know the truth about his life, the look of it makes that little loner girl inside me jealous.

I just wish it was all true. I wish the smile he gives everyone was his real one. They might not be aware of it. Hell, the only other person who knows the truth in that school is Hendrix, because he wears the exact same mask.

Hendrix's life is quieter. His circle of friends is tighter, and he prefers to live his life out of the spotlight, but he still posts things. I'm pretty sure he only does it to stop me worrying, and as much as I hate that he feels the need to, I fucking love it too.

"Aww," I breathe when I find a photo of him and Noelle after school on the beach.

If they don't end up together and have all the babies, I'm going to be heartbroken. She is the sweetest, and together they're so perfect.

It terrifies me that another guy is going to see how incredible she is before Hendrix does, and she's going to be stolen from under his clueless nose.

With my brain fully awake from the caffeine, I continue scrolling, losing myself in snippets of other people's lives that they like to show the world.

But eventually, my need to know if Kian has responded to my email gets the better of me. Although, my curiosity isn't enough to get my ass out of bed and go in search of my new work cell. So instead, I load up my new email account on my mail app and wait for it to load.

When my inbox shows nothing new unread, I jump back to Instagram, and before I can stop myself, I'm typing his name into the search bar.

His account doesn't hold much of any excitement. In fact, it's downright fucking boring.

For someone who lives a life as exciting as his, you'd really think he'd show it off.

I shake my head, trying to force out the idea that I should bring it up tomorrow. He's something of a celebrity in Chicago. He really should have a better account than this.

Bored of his almost non-existent feed, I turn to tagged photographs of him.

"Aha." See, you do have a life.

However, I soon discover what that life involves.

Women.

A lot of freaking women.

Almost every single photo of him with a model-worthy woman on his arm. I shouldn't be surprised—the first few times I met him, he was doing the exact same thing.

Without thinking, I tap on the most recent image of him with a gorgeous redhead.Then my eyes drop to the date and time.

"Holy shit," I gasp. That was posted two minutes ago.

Right this second, he is on a date with this woman, and I'm sitting here like a loser waiting for him to email me back.

Christ. Could I be any more pathetic?

I immediately close Instagram before I start digging any deeper into his date. Hell, for all I know, she could be his girlfriend.

The less I know about my boss's extracurricular activities, the better.

I snuggle down into bed and just get myself into the perfect position when my watch buzzes.

"Fuck's sake," I mutter, flipping over to grab my cell and put it on do not disturb. But my good intentions are squashed when I find a message from someone I'd hoped had left my life.

I stare at it for a beat, debating deleting it without even opening it. I silently beg myself to do just that, but when my thumb moves, it isn't to rid my cheating ex from my life again but instead to see what he's decided to say after a blissful week without him.

Matt: I'm sorry, I know I said I'd let you go but…I miss you, baby.

My hand trembles and emotion burns the backs of my eyes as I stare at his words.

I don't want to miss him.

He lied to me. He played me. He hurt me.

But…

"Fuck," I breathe.

Closing my eyes, I let my head sink back into the pillow as I fight against falling apart again because of a jerk who doesn't deserve it.

I just think I've got it together when my cell buzzes again.

Fuck.

He's seen that I've read it and he's going to try and lure me back in.

Hesitantly, I crack an eye open and look at the screen.

But to my surprise, there isn't another message alert.

There's an email.

From a man who is currently on a date…

From: Kian Callahan

To: Lorelei Tempest

Subject: Housekeeping

Dear Miss Tempest,

Thank you for your swift and clear reply.

I am glad to read that you're too fully focused on your job to be thinking about other pleasurable ways you could be spending your time.

Your dedication from the outset is commendable.

Regards,

Kian Callahan

Chief Financial Officer

Callahan Enterprises