24. Ember

24

EMBER

M y phone buzzed for the third time as I fumbled with my apartment key. I already knew who it was—Cole had been trying to reach me since I left the gala.

"Not tonight," I muttered, finally getting my door open. I kicked off my heels and collapsed onto my couch, still wearing my emerald dress.

Catman slinked into view, yawned, and then sat to study me. I could feel the judgment radiating off his wrinkly little body.

"I know," I told him. "I'm in trouble."

The kind of trouble that came from letting your boss hold you on a moonlit terrace while you wore his jacket. The kind that came from keeping secrets that could destroy everything you'd grown to care about.

The kind that came from falling for someone you absolutely shouldn't.

"Would it really be so bad if I fell for him, Catman?"

Catman regarded me with his one-eyed wisdom. He gave a scratchy, soft meow.

"Not that bad, then?" I prompted.

He raised a paw and began to lick.

That was the beautiful thing with cat-to-human communication. I was free to interpret Catman's weirdness in any way that happened to suit me. Then again, maybe that was why sane and rational people weren't supposed to have meaningful conversations with their cats.

Thankfully, sane and rational was a highly overrated state of existence.

My laptop chimed with an email notification. My heart rate immediately doubled, but when I checked, it wasn't from Orion. It was from Davenport:

Dear Miss Hartwell,

Would you be available to meet tomorrow? Bring that boss of yours if you can pry him away from his desk.

Best,

M. Davenport

P.S. Eleanor Golding told me about your duck spreadsheet. I'd love to see it.

I sat up straighter, excitement warring with dread. On one hand, Davenport wanting to meet was huge progress. On the other hand... Orion had been a disaster when I saw him interact with Davenport at Foster Real Estate the other week. After only one meeting, it was painfully clear that Orion and Davenport had little to no common ground on how they would approach the project.

But I highly doubted Orion wanted to hear me explain how poorly he had handled the first meeting or take my advice on what to say for a second.

I was chewing my nail as I wondered how the hell I was supposed to navigate the awkward situation when my phone buzzed again.

This time it was Cole. Again. I hadn't brought myself to actually read any of the messages yet. With a sigh, I pulled them up and began to read.

Cole: Foster seems to have a soft spot for you. Was that how you landed the job?

Cole: I'm curious... did you promise to open your legs for him if he gave you the job? He doesn't deserve you. You know that, right?

I cringed and vomited a little in my mouth when I saw the next text. It was a picture of Cole in his office and he was lifting his shirt to show his abs with an obnoxious grin on his face.

Cole: Remember these? Kylie will be in Miami for a work event this weekend. We could have a little fun together while she's gone.

Cole: Don't ignore me, Em. Remember who you really work for.

If a case of "the ick" could be fatal, I might have dropped dead before I even finished reading all his texts. I could hardly believe I ever saw anything in Cole, and it still shook me to know he had fooled me.

I had once gushed to Kora about how perfect he was for me after our second date—the one where he had apparently lied through his teeth to make it sound like we had so much in common. In retrospect, he had probably pulled a serial stalker move and gathered all of his information from my social media before our date.

I deleted the texts, including his stupid picture, then tossed my phone a few feet away where it bounced off the couch and clattered to the ground.

I pulled my knees to my chest on the couch and hugged them tight as I tried to pick my thoughts through the developing mess of my own creation.

One thing was clear: I was not going to help Cole in any way, shape, or form. I may have accepted the job at Foster Real Estate under Cole's orders, but even when I thought of Orion Foster as a nameless bad guy, I hadn't even been sure I was willing to get any real dirt for Cole. The real goal had just been petty payback. I wanted to string him along with the promise that some dirt was coming for as long as I could. By the time he realized it wasn't coming, he would have hopefully been sending me paychecks for months.

Better yet, he would be even more humiliated and pissed if I managed to drag out the arrangement for as long as possible.

But I needed to find a way to tell Orion the truth. Worse, I probably needed to warn him that I had accidentally tipped Cole off about Davenport. Maybe it was nothing, considering we had the first crack at him, but I still knew I needed to tell Orion the truth.

My stomach churned. I thought about Orion's arms around me, how safe I'd felt in that moment. How much I wanted to tell him everything.

But I couldn't. Because the moment I did, I'd lose it all—the job I'd grown to love, the respect I'd earned, and most importantly, him. Then again, I wasn’t even sure how much of Orion Foster was available. I didn’t even know if he was for rent, lease-to-own, or available for full-blown emotional purchase.

Another email notification made me jump. This time it was from Orion:

Miss Hartwell,

I trust you made it home safely. While reviewing some files, I found myself thinking about our conversation on the terrace.

Regards,

O. Foster

I bit my lip, heart racing. Even his most innocent emails carried weight now. But before I could reply, my phone started ringing.

Cole.

I stared at his name on my screen, remembering how he'd looked at me at the gala. There had been something predatory in his eyes, something that said he knew exactly what game I was playing.

"Enough," I whispered, then blocked his number.

It wouldn't solve anything. He'd find other ways to contact me. But for tonight, I just wanted to reply to Orion's email and pretend, just for a little while, that everything was simple.

That I deserved the way he looked at me.

That I wasn't going to end up hurting people I cared about.

I opened my laptop and started typing:

Mr. Foster,

I've been thinking about our conversation too. There's something I need to tell you. Maybe tomorrow?

-E

P.S. Davenport wants to meet tomorrow. I think something's happening.

I hit send before I could overthink it, then got up to change. As I unzipped my dress, I caught my reflection in the mirror—cheeks flushed, eyes bright, lips slightly swollen from biting them too much.

I looked like a woman in love.

"Well, shit," I told my reflection. "That wasn't supposed to happen."

My laptop chimed again. Another email from Orion. This one was a different flavor entirely.

Miss Hartwell,

While I appreciate your reply, I'm not sure you understood the assignment presented by my previous email. Please reply as soon as you've completed the task.

Regards,

O. Foster

I smiled to myself. Maybe things were far more complicated than they needed to be. Maybe I had a mess to untangle... But I did know exactly what this email meant and what he wanted from me.

I noticed Catman watching me and made a shoo gesture. "Look away, Catman."

I could have sworn he rolled his eye at me before strolling over to his food bowl to noisily eat.

With one more look at Orion's email, I slipped under the blankets on my couch. I didn't want to disappoint my boss, so with my dress still pooled on the floor and wearing nothing but my underwear, I reached between my legs and got to work for Orion.

I really did love this job in more ways than one.