This was his office, his home, his daughter. I was the employee pushing way past her bounds.
“Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking. Think about what Lily wants instead of what you’re afraid of.”
“That’s enough.” His voice didn’t get louder, but something in it made me stop. “This conversation is over.”
“Mr. Valdez?—”
“Over, Ms. Tinsley. Unless you have something else work-related to discuss?”
The dismissal was clear. I could push further and risk my job, or I could back off and try again later.
“No,” I said. “Nothing else.”
I turned and walked out, my anger carrying me all the way to the elevator before I remembered.
The advance.
I’d completely forgotten to ask about the advance salary.
My finger hovered over the elevator button. Going back into that office after that argument and asking Hector Valdez for money? Absolutely not.
I’d have to figure out another way.
The elevator doors closed and my reflection stared back at me from the polished metal—angry and frustrated and completely out of options.
I had less than ninety days to find a hundred thousand dollars, and I’d just picked a fight with the only person who could actually help me.
The elevator hummed as it descended, the soft mechanical whirring somehow louder than my own thoughts. My pulse thudded in my ears. My palms were damp. I pressed them against my thighs, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped.
When the doors opened, I stepped into the lobby and forced myself to breathe. Slow. Controlled. Like I used to tell Colin when he’d get overwhelmed before a speech therapy session. Funny how I could coach other people through panic but couldn’t manage my own.
I walked outside, the cold air slapping me in the face like a reminder that the world didn’t care about my problems. The sky was gray, heavy with the threat of rain. Again. Because of course it was.
I started down the sidewalk, my steps quick and uneven. My mind kept replaying the argument in Hector’s office — his clipped tone, the way he’d stood up like he was done entertaining my opinions, the way he’d shut me down with that infuriating calm.
This conversation is over.
God, I hated how he said that. Like he was closing a file. Like I was a file.
But the worst part wasn’t the dismissal. It was the tiny, traitorous part of me that had hoped — just for a second — that he’d listen. That he’d consider it. That he’d care about what Lily wanted.
That he’d care about what I said.
I shook the thought away. Dangerous territory. No good came from expecting anything from men like Hector Valdez. They didn’t bend. They didn’t compromise. They didn’t soften.
Not for me.
I reached the corner and stopped, pressing a hand to my forehead. I needed a plan. A real one. Not the vague, desperate hope that something would magically work out.
I could pick up another job. Maybe a night shift somewhere. But even that wouldn’t be enough. Not for the amount I needed. Not for the timeline I had.
My stomach twisted.
I could ask Delia… No. She’d insist on helping, and I couldn’t drag her into this. Not when the loan sharks had already proven they’d go after people I loved.
I could sell things.
Except I owned nothing worth selling.
