17. Sydney

CHAPTER 17

SYDNEY

“ S ydney? Do you want some breakfast? Maybe some tea?” Mrs. Milton’s voice carried through the bedroom door.

Ugh. I really didn’t want to chit-chat with Nick’s mom right now. To be honest, my entire plan had been holing up in the bedroom at least until Nick came back, but maybe forever.

I swiped the tears off my face, running my thumbs beneath my eyes to clear any remnants of mascara away before opening the door.

“Thanks, Mrs. Milton. Tea would be great.” I stood in the doorway, my hand resting casually on the doorframe, semi-blocking the entrance to the room to ward off further conversation.

“Are you okay? I saw Nick leave earlier. I’m surprised you didn’t go with him.” She frowned at me, obviously suspicious.

I blew out a shaky breath as more hot tears pricked at my eyes. Damn it.

“I’m okay. It’s just a work thing that came up. I needed some time to fix it, so Nick went out to give me some space.”

“Hmmm,” she said, staring at me for a beat longer than normal.

Then she reached out and hugged me, squeezing me to her chest like a mama bird would a chick and I lost my shit. A deep, wracking sob welled up, then spilled out of me, all the pent-up sadness I’d been feeling about my situation pouring out of me onto Nick’s mom.

So awkward.

She rubbed my back, murmuring nice comforting words to me as I cried into her cashmere sweater. After a few minutes, I managed to get it together, wiping at my face with the back of my hand.

“Let me get you a tissue,” she said, patting my arm. “Sit down and we’ll talk about whatever’s going on.”

I mindlessly followed her instructions, perching on the edge of the bed. A few seconds later she was back with tissues, taking her seat next to me.

“What’s going on, Sydney? Is it work? Or did something happen with Nick?” Her clear blue eyes were filled with worry and my chest constricted. I didn’t want to lie to her anymore, but what about Nick? Would he be mad if I came clean with his mom?

“Both,” I said in a small voice. I took another shaky breath. “It’s a complicated situation. The important part is Nick and I aren’t supposed to be dating because of our work relationship. It wasn’t an issue before, when I worked for the private PR firm. But now I have the job with the team and Nick is back on the team, so we have a problem.”

“I see,” she said, nodding. “Everything was fine before, since you didn’t work for the team. But then Nick got traded and you took the job with the team, not knowing he’d be traded back, and now you both have an issue. Is that right?”

I cleared my throat, debating how much to say here. “Yes, basically.”

“Why is this all coming up today? Did something happen?” she asked, tilting her head and eyeing me like only a mother can do.

I sighed. “Well, last night the docent at the lighthouse took our photo and posted it to social media. Now the photo of us is out there and getting tons of hits, so it’s only a matter of time until it gets back to the team—and HR. We’d agreed to keep our relationship private while we figured things out, but that’s off the table now.”

“The two of you are at a crossroads then,” she said, rubbing my forearm. “And you’re in the position of having to choose between Nick and your career.”

“Exactly,” I said, nodding, my throat tight and scratchy. “I’ve worked really hard to get where I am in my career and I don’t want to give it up, but I love Nick.” I paused, my cheeks flaming with this admission to his mother.

“Aww, sweetie. I understand. This is a difficult situation.” She took both of my hands in hers, locking her eyes on mine. “Take this for what it’s worth—love is harder to find than a job. And I’ve seen the way you two are together, so happy and radiant. Nick is in love with you, too, I can see that from across a room. I’m not saying you should walk away from your career, but take a moment to look at the big picture. Maybe there’s a way you can work something out with the team and stay on?” She raised a brow, floating the possibility.

“I don’t know. But it’s worth looking into, considering I may be fired for breaking HR protocol anyway.” I bit down on my lip, holding back more tears.

“Things will work out, Sydney, they always do.” Mrs. Milton folded me into another warm hug and a tiny part of me felt better. Maybe Nick would be worth giving things up for. I’d definitely been wrong about one thing: my job wasn’t all I had. I had Nick and his family.

If I couldn’t resolve this thing with HR, I’d be back at square one, looking for another job. But maybe that wasn’t the worst thing in the world. There were lots of PR jobs out there, but there was only one Nick Milton.

And I wanted—needed—that Nick Milton to be mine.