“By the way, thanks for earlier.” I scratch my nape. “For defending me. That was nice.”
“We’re friends, Aoi. If I don’t defend you, please fire my ass.”
“I don’t think I could ever do that.”
He laughs. “You’re right. You’re too kind.”
My clothes are sticky, and I smell like coffee. It’s disgusting. Which means, he has to drop me off in front of the building before heading to my hotel room to fetch me clean clothes while I wait for him. He doesn’t waste much time before driving off, and I stroll into the giant lobby of RTStar.
I wondered for a long time, when I first started working part time, why the hell this building is so damn big. Turned out Mr. Williams is passionate about books, and has invested a massive amount of his fortune in this agency. He owns a chain of luxury hotels, a bunch of stocks, and has more assets than I can count, whereas his wife is a philanthropist and a scientist.
Rich people and their free time. I doubt I’d be as invested, even if I had their wealth and their life.
Mr. Williams takes care of RTStar as a side hobby more than a real job. That’s probably why he’s so carefree and spends loads on his authors, especially the bestselling ones.
The moment I enter the building, I’m greeted by a group of employees taking a coffee break on the couches. Jason is sitting on a white leather armchair, checking his watch like he’s running out of time.
He catches me walking in and immediately gets up, striding toward me. “What happened to your shirt?”
“Coffee accident. Nothing crazy.” I shrug. “Some asshole splashed his drink on me, but it’s alright. Dixon’s fetching me a clean set of clothes.”
He’s wearing a black tailored suit, and his hair is styled back. Perfect as usual. It’s infuriating.
“How is that nothing? Did you get burned?” he questions and grabs my arm to check for burns, but I yank it away. “Show me.”
“I’m fine.”
Jason grits his teeth and sighs exasperatedly. “With you,finedoesn’t mean much.”
I swear, I want to punch him right here and now. I hate when he insinuates that I’m lying when I say I’m doing well. Just because I messed uponceeight years ago doesn’t mean it will happen again.
Either way, I don’t need the world to see us displaying public displays of affection. Other than tarnishing my reputation, it won’t do me any good to let people know about our destructive history.
Talk about a scandal.
I turn away from him and rush to the bathroom at the end of the hallway near the elevators. The door closes behind me, and I lean against the maroon and beige sink. The cool sensation of the marble against my sweaty palms brings me back to reality for a heavy second.
I’m nervous at the prospect of a meeting I called and have to present. It’s a never-ending story. I want to announce an important project, but I sometimes wish someone else could do the talking for me. Why can’t I just telepathically project my thoughts instead of forcing out a vomit of words?
Heart hammering in my chest and ears buzzing, I scratch the scar on my forearm. Jason’s presence hasn’t eased the tension at all. I don’thatehim, but the fondness I once felt regarding him has dissipated, and a darker, colder feeling took its place in my heart.
I suck in a deep breath, splash some cold water on my face, then swallow two pills. I stare at my reflection in the mirror, watching droplets of water dripping from the brown hair framing my face.
Maybe Jason’s right. I’m just a pretty face, but beyond that, I’m hollow. People like the shell they see, the projected perfect exterior. Notme. They wouldn’t like me if they saw even a fragment of what hides underneath the crafted smiles.
I shake my head and blink, slowly shutting my eyes with a deep breath.
I’m okay. It’s going to be okay.
I can do this.
2
Aoi
My phone buzzes in my pocket. I pick up the call and immediately have to turn down the volume because I value my eardrums.
“I got the clothes! Where are you?” he shouts over the muffled noise of people conversing around him.
