Unblinking, she meets my gaze. “You should be.”
Her stare lingers, but so does mine. Then she spins on her heel and strides away, shoulders squared with unshakable confidence.
Alone at my desk, I inhale deeply, trying to steady my nerves. My lungs struggle to expand, as if the air itself has grown too thick to breathe. Lately this state of anxiety happens too often. There’s no calming down, not when she’s crossed every line imaginable, rummaged through private emails, watched Jake’s most vulnerable moment like it was entertainment.
Whatever scheme they’re plotting, I can’t let them succeed. Judy needs to hear everything—about the sabotage, about Amanda’s threats, about the toxic environment they’re creating.
Determined, I grab my phone and stride toward the elevator, jabbing the button for the top floor. When it arrives with a soft chime, I step inside, waiting for the silver door to shut completely when Amanda’s manicured fingers thrust between them at the last possible second.
“Whatever you’re thinking it won’t work,” she says, stepping into the elevator with the cool composure of someone not in the least worried—which worries me. Does she have an ace up her sleeve? Her hostility radiates in this confined space.
I can’t show weakness—not when I haven’t done anything wrong. “Worried your little plan might fall apart?” I say.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Amanda’s lips barely move as she speaks.
“Don’t play dumb,” I retort, counting the floors on our way up, barely able to stand another second in such close proximity to her. “I overheard Tim at the anniversary party. He’s planning something, and I know you’re in on it.”
Amanda shifts her weight to one leg. “Maybe you heard wrong. Like the boss said, it’s just a friendly competition.”
The metal walls of the elevator seem to close in, reminding me of all the ways I’m trapped—by this situation, by my own mistakes, by the past. Jake hasn’t returned to his apartment since that night and hasn’t answered a single one of my increasingly desperate messages. But I can’t let him get hurt in any way—not on my account.
Absolute silence stretches between us, the only sound the mechanical whirring of cables pulling us upward.
From the corner of my eye, I see her tapping a finger against her arm. Perhaps in another life, we might have been friends—two ambitious women climbing the corporate ladder. But she’s crossed the line more times than I can count. Enough is enough.
Judy will decide, I tell myself.
The elevator announces our arrival with a cheerful ding that feels oddly out of place given the tension simmering between us. Without hesitation, Amanda strides out, heels striking the polished floor on her way to Judy’s office.
My sensible flats make no sound as I rush to catch up, weaving around a mail cart and narrowly avoiding a collision with the water cooler.
Within seconds, I’m at her side, our shoulders brushing as we hurtle down the hallway like two racehorses neck-and-neck at the final stretch. Neither of us yields an inch.
She flicks her gaze sideways, catching mine. That smirk widens, taunting me.
When her pace quickens, mine matches it. When she slows, testing me, I adjust without breaking stride. This is a race to the truth, and I won’t yield no matter what happens.
Judy’s office door looms ahead, dark wood with a brass nameplate gleaming under the hallway lights. At the last possible moment, I lunge forward—my college track team training finally paying off—and reach the door first, my breath coming in quick puffs.
Amanda’s back at my side, her immaculate eyebrow arches as though this little race amuses her to no end, as though she’s already won some prize I don’t even know about.
She gestures toward the door as if allowing me the honor of knocking first. I tap three times and push the door open before my courage can desert me.
Inside, Judy Hawthorne sits like a queen at her massive desk, head tilted slightly as she focuses on whoever’s speaking through the Bluetooth device in her ear. Her silver-streaked hair catches the light from the floor-to-ceiling windows behind her. With one manicured finger, she signals for us to wait.
“Yes, darling, the venue is all set,” she says, her voice warm in a way I’ve rarely heard around the office. “I look forward to it.”
She presses a button on her earpiece and removes it, setting it aside before fixing her penetrating gaze on Amanda and me. For one terrifying moment, she studies us without speaking, as though reading everything we’re too afraid to say.
“Miss Lake,” she finally says, “just the person I wanted to see.”
I swallow hard, my throat suddenly dry as sandpaper. My hands want to fidget, but I force them still at my sides. “Ma’am, there’s something you need to know.”
Judy arches a thin eyebrow, leaning forward slightly. “Does it have anything to do with a certain gentleman named Jake?”
Her words catch me off-guard, sending my carefully rehearsed speech scattering like leaves in a gust of wind. Does she already know? “Yes,” I manage to say. “At the party—“
Judy cuts me off with a raised hand. “I’m well aware of what happened at the party.”
