“I asked if you wanted me to print a copy of the presentation for the new advertising campaign.”
“No need.” He waves a hand dismissively and turns back to his monitor. “I’ll take the call from my desk.”
I continue reviewing the schedule, but he’s only half listening.
“You have a lunch meeting at Hestia to discuss the terms of the new consulting agreement. I called ahead and placed your order to save time, but you’ll want to skip coffee afterward, because there’s a zombie apocalypse scheduled for one thirty.” He doesn’t even bat an eyelash. “I’d hate for you to get infected before your date with Alicia tonight,” I continue. “She’s vegan, so consuming human flesh is probably a deal breaker.”
I pause, waiting for a reaction.
“Sounds good.”
Right. Because it just wouldn’t be Monday without an apocalyptic outbreak.
“Are you even listening?” I ask, fighting to keep my voice level.
Miles turns his attention to me, eyes bright. “Of course.”
I lean back in my chair and cross my arms, staring at him across the top of his glossy white desk. On the surface, it’s pristine and well-organized, just like its owner. Underneath?
Not so much.
Miles flashes a disarming smile, stalling for time.
He really does have a great smile. Warm. Inviting. Just the hint of a dimple.
Stay strong, Lucy.
“You were saying something about…” He rakes a hand through his hair, no doubt racking his brain for a clue. “Dinner?”
The guess is as good as any, but I’m not bailing him out. Not this time.
I’m sick and tired of being overlooked. Ignored. Dismissed.
I may not be a sexy, charismatic billionaire, but my time—my work—matters.
“Perhaps if you’d bothered to listen to a word I was saying, you wouldn’t have to guess,” I snap. “You realize I won’t always be here to hold your hand, right?”
“Of course you’ll be here.” A quiet laugh rumbles past his lips. “You’re too loyal to leave me hanging.”
Ay, cabrón.
My chest tightens as the reality of our situation comes crashing down. For the last two years, I’ve managed every detail of Miles Hart’s life, from his laundry service to his weekly grocery order. I’ve planned dates, made reservations, answered his emails, picked out gifts for Mama Hart. I’ve given him everything I have to offer, and for what? So he can date gorgeous socialites while I run myself ragged, anticipating his every need?
Well,screwthat.
I’m done being invisible. Done accommodating his every whim. Done hoping that one day he’ll wake up and see me the way I see him.
“I quit.” Legs shaking, I stand and clutch my tablet to my chest. “Consider this my two weeks’ notice.”
The pendejo actually bursts out laughing. “April Fools’ Day was last week, Luce.”
Any doubts I had are washed away by the wave of fury lapping at my consciousness.
“I’m serious, Miles. I quit.” I square my shoulders, channeling my inner boss babe. “I can put it in writing, if you’d like.”
His eyes narrow, and he leans back in his chair, assessing me. “You love your job too much to quit.”
Ten minutes ago, he would’ve been right. Mostly. I love working at Triada, and I’m damn good at my job, but I can’t stay here at the expense of my self-respect. It’s not like I’m asking for a lot—just to be seen and appreciated—but it’s never going to happen.
