“Obviously, I wasn’t there, but Mum mentioned quite a few people who paid double or even triple for some pieces. When I followed up, I heard some very interesting stories.”
I knew that melted owl was going to come back to haunt me.
“That’s great news, but I don’t see what it has to do with me.”
Darcy stares me down for a moment, then, abruptly, she stands and walks around her desk. She moves quickly. It’s the same kinetic energy Lincoln gets when he’s talking about his work. “I’ll be straight with you, Ivy. I need a communications lead, and I’d like you to apply for it,” she says, a lot closer now that she’s sitting in the chair beside me. My nerves coalesce like stone, heavy with meaning.
“Me? But I’ve never done anything in communications.”
There’s a glint in Darcy’s eyes. “I beg to differ. The auction proves that. Although, if you accept, I would prefer you use your powers for good. But I can’t deny it was an effective approach. And, somewhat unsurprisingly, we have a soft spot here for creativity.” She straightens the cuffs of her checkered blouse. “Look, this role requires someone who can think on their feet. The rest we can teach you.”
“That’s, I, what?” Mark the calendar. I’m officially speechless.
Weeks of applying for jobs, and this is the first time I’ve felt a pop and zing of excitement brewing under my skin. Usually, there’s a load-bearing depression accompanying the click on Send Application. I never considered an option where I would actually look forward to work.
“Take some time to think about it. I know it’s a jump from your current role, but I spoke with Emma?—”
My heart pounds. Does that mean she knows about the redundancy? No, Emma would have told me. “You did?”
“She had a lot of great things to say about you. As does most of my family.” Darcy leans over to her desk, reaching for an envelope before passing it to me. “I’ve had HR put together an offer. I believe you’ll find it quite competitive.”
Blinking, I take the envelope from her. This is… I don’t even know what this is. “How long do I have to think about it?” I ask, because the last time I acted without thinking, I ended up with a fake boyfriend.
Except, that’s also the same reason I’m sitting here, so maybe I should stop being so hard on myself.
“Let me know by the end of next week.”
I don’t think it’s going to take me that long to decide, and from the sparkle in Darcy’s grin, she already knows it.
CHAPTER38
MY BROTHER, MY JUDGE
LINCOLN
Reed’s office is awash in navy. Even the ceiling didn’t survive whatever decorating phase Darcy went through. It’s nice. Elegant. Strong. Handsome.
A good representation of my brother.
He fits here, sitting tall behind his desk, concern etched deep in the lines of his face, as though this very room is the source of his issues.
Or maybe it’s me.
Wind the clock back, and it’s like looking at a ten-year-old Reed, drowning in one of Deacon’s blazers, barking orders.
“Of course you’re here without any warning,” he says as I drop into the chair across from his desk. It’s deep and comfortable, which absolutely means it’s my sister’s handiwork. “If you’re here to see Darcy, she’s in the middle of something important.”
“I came to see you, actually.”
His surprise is evident in the lift of one straight eyebrow, but he says nothing. Instead, his shoulders relax and he pushes back from his desk to walk to a side table which— of course— has a teapot and several company-branded mugs.
Reed turns his head in question, and I nod. It strikes me that he doesn’t have an assistant, and he’s made no move to close the door to his office, despite the free-flowing chatter that makes its way in from the team working outside.
It’s deliberate, in the way I know Reed to be, that he’s available to them. That he’s a leader, but he’s also a part of the team.
He passes me a mug and returns to his desk, holding his own. We’ve never been this polite. If one of us brings up the weather, I’m leaving.
“What the hell is that?” I ask, grimacing at the speckled brown puck Reed is holding up to his mouth.
