Her tone is serious and makes me sit up straighter.
“Oh, really? And what of all thisextra workfor you?”
“Do this for me. Give him a chance, and I will back off. About the job, about your personal life…”
“And if I don’t?” I ask, her eyes filling with tears. I sit up straighter. I can’t remember the last time I saw her cry. Chicora never cries… least of all in my presence.
“Then I will put in my resignation, because I will not watch you work yourself to death, Sloane. I will not watch you wither away, like I had to watch him.”
Her words strike me in the chest, hard.
It’s not the words themselves, but the sincerity. The raw truth.
She means what she says, and as much as I don’t want to admit it, I can’t do my job without her. Training someone else to take her place would take months, and I know they wouldn’t do the job half as good as Chickadee.
Not to mention the time and money it would take to hire someone, and in the meantime I’d likely be doing the work of three people.
It’s not practical.
I can’t afford to lose her, but I hate that she is putting me in this position.
Forcing my hand.
I hate to be forced into anything and she knows it. So I know she’s more than serious.
I let out a deep, heavy breath of my own, speaking through gritted teeth.
“When does he start?”
Chapter Four
Oliver
I stare at myself in the mirror, my heart in my throat.
I’ve had plenty of first days before, and nerves aren’t something new for me, but a part of me knows this is beyond that. I mean, sure… we all pretend to be the best versions of ourselves during interviews and first days. But this feels different.I’m still not entirely sure that Robbie’s plan will work. It’s a long shot. Hell, his entire plan is hinging on me pulling the guy’s attention. The insinuation that Icanmake a man like Sloane Pierce turn his head is flattering, but I’m not sure I believe in me the way Robbie does. I’m average at best on a good day. I never quite grew out of the awkward and nerdy phase. I just got taller and traded my glasses for contacts.
At the very least, it’s a job. And if all else fails, I will do whatever I can to keep it. Even if that means I have to lie about who I am. At least my work ethic and dedication aren’t something I’ll have to fake. Robbie is right about that—I am detail-oriented and organized, but that stuff is just second nature to me. I’ve always been that way. I like order. I like knowing things have their place and are where I need them, when I need them. It gives me a sense of purpose. I pray that my actual skills—and not the persona I’m supposed to be embodying—will be enough, at least to get me through today.
I spray myself with a spritz of cologne and take one last gander. Normally, I’d wear a button-down and khakis to work, and if I was feeling fancy,maybea printed button-down with a fun pattern like bananas or rubber duckies. But Robbie and I both knew that my usual library-friendly attire would make me stand out like a sore thumb at a place like Veil’s corporate headquarters. Though I wasn’t about to charge a couple hundred dollars on a suit that I might never get to wear again, which would likely have no resale value. Thankfully, I was able to thrift some gently used shirts and slacks from the consignment shop in the city, even though Robbie said I should have splurged for theimage. But a good iron and some nice accessories go a long way.
I turn off the bathroom light and head for the kitchen to make sure I have everything. Phone, wallet, keys…
The last shred of my sanity.
Robbie’s on the couch, computer precariously balanced on his bare chest, the LED light illuminating him in its eerie glow. I can’t tell what he’s working on, but whatever it is, it’s got him zeroed in.
“Hey.” I clear my throat, but he doesn’t look at me. “Robbie…”
“What?” he bites, the irritation evident in his voice. He looks up at me.
“I’m heading out,” I say, trying not to sound pissed off. This past week he’s been up my ass about every little detail, from my clothes to the cologne he bought—without my approval—and told me to wear. I told him he shouldn’t have spent the money, but he argued that I’d saved on the clothes and neededsomethingto build my allure if I wasn't going to play dress up in clothes out of my budget. And though I could have done this alone—atmyapartment this morning—I thought it was important that he be here for this. Considering it was his idea and all…
Not to mention, most of our time together this week was spent going over all of Sloane’s profiles and biographies. Though I must say, it was nice to spend time with him, even if it was to build up mypersonaor whatever. It was nice to see my boyfriend interested in something that wasn’t the bottom of his glass.
But his nonchalance, his annoyance right now, is grating on more than just my nerves.
“Okay,” he says, like it’s no big deal. I sigh, crossing my arms.
