“How’s life at Knightwell?” Elliot asks, a sly curve to his mouth. “Everything going well?”
I keep my expression neutral. “Oh, you know, busy, busy.”
“Listen, Violet,” he says, his tone shifting. “I probably shouldn’t say this, but it’s highly likely that we’ll win the Monarch contract. And you must realize how huge that is in securing a dominant stake in the finance world.”
My stomach clenches. I don’t like where this is going.
“Well,” I say carefully, “it’s not over yet.”
Elliot’s smile widens, but there’s a sharpness to it. “If you came to work for us, you’d be involved in one of the most excitingprojects in recent years. Your opportunity for growth would be limitless.”
I shake my head. “I don’t think—”
“Chase won’t fast-track you to success,” he interrupts. “He’ll use your brain, your talent, take everything you have to give... and keep all the credit for himself.” His tone hardens, eyes glittering. “Just like he’s always done. Built his empire on other people’s blood, sweat, and tears.”
My mouth opens before I can stop myself. “Why do you hate him so much?”
Elliot smiles, but there’s no warmth in it. “I don’t.” His tone is measured, careful. “This isn’t personal. Hate and love have no relevance in business. In some ways, I admire him.”
My phone buzzes again, and I seize the distraction.
MILLIE
So sorry, Violet. I won’t make it after all. Just got hit with a killer migraine. I’ll make it up to you, I promise ;-)
Relief and disappointment war within me. Relief that I can finally escape this conversation. Disappointment that, even knowing Millie’s migraines are severe, a part of me still wishes she’d been here to save me from this.
“Everything okay?” Elliot asks, tilting his head.
I force a smile. “Yeah. My friend isn’t coming after all.”
“Shame. But that means you’re free, doesn’t it?”
I grab my bag, already standing. “Actually, I should get going.”
Elliot frowns. “At least let me give you a ride.”
“I’ll take the subway,” I blurt.
His lips quirk. “In this weather? Do you have an umbrella?”
I falter.
His smirk deepens. “Didn’t think so.” He grabs his from the stand and flicks it open as we step outside. “Come on, I’ll walk you.”
I hesitate, but there’s no arguing with him once he’s decided. “Fine,” I mutter.
The cold rain immediately lashes against my skin. Elliot angles the umbrella above us, standing a bit too close as we fall into step. The streetlights cast a dim glow on the slick pavement, and for a moment, the only sound is the steady drum of rain against fabric.
When we reach the subway entrance, he pulls a business card from his pocket. But instead of handing it to me, he flips it over, scrawls something onto the back, and presses it into my palm.
I glance down.
A job offer.
And the salary is staggering.
Elliot bows his head. “Think about it.”
