“I’ve been here before,” she says quietly.
“What? You’ve slept with your boss before?”
“No, but everyone thought I did.” She takes a strong breath in, and I wait to see if she’ll say any more. “At my last job, I ended upgetting really close with my boss. He would invite me over for dinner sometimes. I knew his wife, his kids, his grandkids. We were friends. On top of that, I got two promotions within thirteen months. I was so proud of myself for accomplishing that. Some of it was fortuitous timing. But I truly believed that it was essentially because I worked hard every day. I was good at my job, proved my potential by taking on additional tasks and going above and beyond.
“What I didn’t realize was that rumors starting swirling at the same time. Colleagues and coworkers I thought were my friends were telling people that I only got those promotions because I performed certain ‘favors’ for my boss,” she sighs. I rub my hand on her leg. The sound of her voice, so defeated and subdued, makes my chest crack for her.
“Everyone started doubting me. They started going to my employees to get stuff done instead of me. I heard from multiple people through the grapevine that nobody had confidence in my abilities. Everyone just assumed that I slept my way into my position. That I didn’t earn it or deserve it. I worked so hard to get that job, to earn those promotions. I put everything I had into that company, and all it took was rumors spreading like wildfire to destroy everything I had been building toward. The upper management got word of it. HR brought me into the office and told me not to worry about it, that people would forget about it in time, but by that point, it was too late. It didn’t matter what I said or what I did. I tried to tell people that it wasn’t true, but no one believed me. My boss just told me to ignore it. I think he was fine with the rumors, to be honest. Maybe even a little bit of a confidence boost that people thought that about us. He wasthirty-five years older than me. When they start planning meetings and I wasn’t invited to them, but my staff was, that’s when I realized that there was no coming back from that.”
“I’m sorry, Brielle. You don’t deserve that. I knew from day two that you were intelligent, driven, and hardworking. If your last job couldn’t see that, they’re fucking blind,” I tell her. She shifts in my arms so that she cuddles into my side. “People are assholes, beautiful. That’s why I don’t like most of them.”
“But you liked me right from the beginning?” she laughs.
“Absolutely not,” I tell her vehemently. “I knew you were smart, competent… maybe I even noticed that you were beautiful. But I certainly didn’t like you. You signed us up for a weekend trip ice fishing in the goddamn woods as a fake couple.”
“Don’t lie, that was the best weekend of your life,” she jokes.
“Second best.”
She turns her chin up to me with a smile. Her cerulean eyes stop my heart for a beat, and it takes everything in me not to lean forward and capture her soft, full lips. “Good answer,” she teases. Her eyes dip to my mouth, not helping my resolve. “What happens when I can’t say with a straight face that nothing is going on with my boss? That what they’re saying is all lies… because it’s not. What happens then?”
“I’ll never treat you differently at work. Who I spend time with outside of that office has no relevance to what happens inside of it.”
“So, you give all your employees the opportunity to move departments, lead projects that they have no qualifications for instead of the team of people that you’ve hired to do that job?” she challenges.
She thinks she has something there, but she doesn’t. I didn’t make that decision simply because of our time together. She proved her talent, her creativity, her personability, and her ability to adapt. I saw potential and I chose to cultivate it, not because we hooked up, but because she deserved a chance to show what she could do, and CreativEdge would benefit from her involvement.
“No. I don’t give that opportunity to everyone. But I selfishly gave it to you, to the detriment of your health and well-being, apparently,” I add with narrowed eyes. “I don’t give a shit what your degree is in or what your past experience was. I saw your qualifications firsthand at that dinner with Leon and Pam, and again during our hike with the family. You earned a spot on that team; it wasn’t given to you. And if you recall, you weren’t leading the team originally. Not until it was clear that you were the best-qualified person to take charge. I made all of those decisions for the betterment of CreativEdge, as a businessman. Don’t think for one second that you got there by anything other than talent, hard work, and a willingness to learn.”
“Thank you, Damian.” She burrows herself into me, holding on to me. I squeeze her shoulder and brush a lock of hair from her face.
“Just telling you the truth, beautiful.”
Her eyes close, the lashes kissing the apples of her cheeks, her button nose pressed into my shirt. I study her long enough to see her breathing slow. Her limbs fall heavily around my waist as she settles into sleep.
I could wake her, but she’s still recovering from her lack of sleep over the past two weeks. And she feels good wrapped around me like this. I let her sleep on my chest for a little while, until my arm goes numb beneath her and my lids start to feel heavy.
Slowly, I extricate myself from her, sliding off the couch as softly and quietly as I can. I scoop her into my arms, and she links her hands around my neck.
“Come on, beautiful. Time for bed,” I whisper to her.
Her nose nuzzles into my neck. Even in her sleep, she tries to get the best of me. I bring her into my bedroom, placing her on the mattress delicately and getting her settled beneath the blanket.
“Get some rest. Sleep well,” I tell her, placing a kiss to her forehead. I grab an extra blanket from my closet and steal a pillow from my bed. Looks like I’m spending the night on the couch.
I should be mad about that, but I’m not. Not when I know how badly she needs to rest. Not when I know that I’m the reason she’s worked herself to exhaustion in the first place.
Chapter 25
Brielle
Valentine:Coconutcurrychicken
Me: Do you want me to order you some???
Valentine: No. That’s what I’m making for dinner tonight. It’s always the first question you ask when you get there, so I thought I would inform you now.
Me: Are you inviting me over for dinner again?
