I pull out the first picture, which has Eloise’s name at the bottom and a woman with Ariel-red hair surrounded by bugs of every color and shape. Some are near-perfect renditions, and some have a distinct creative license that makes them look more like monsters. My eyes squint with the force of my smile. When I pick up the second picture, it’s from Avery. This one is a woman with the same red hair, holding the hand of a man with black hair and glasses, and a little girl on each side. Tiny, pink hearts adorn the top of each person’s head.
My vision blurs with unshed tears, and I bite my lips to stop them from quivering. I have to read the letter before so many tears flood my eyes that I can’t see.
I flick open the envelope and pull out a small piece of galaxy stationery.
Dearest Millie,
There were two missing pieces in your office. I hope you like them.
I’m so proud of you.
I’ll be there waiting when you get out of the interview.
Astronomically Yours,
Finn
I trace my fingers over where he’s written “astronomically yours,” feeling it seep through my skin and into my bloodstream, before I set it on my desk.
My hands shake as I pick up the rectangular package wrapped in brown paper. I slide my fingers through the opening and pop the tape. Pulling away the paper, I reveal two frames, one small enough to sit inside the other.
My breath stalls as I scan the small, framed image of me and the girls. Finn must’ve taken this picture a few days ago from behind us as we walked to the park, Avery and Eloise on each side of me, holding my hands.
I have to press my thighs against my desk to keep my body steady. Micah walks toward me and places a warm palm between my shoulder blades as a show of silent support. With a reassuring nod for myself, I lift the small frame out of the larger one, setting it on my desk and revealing the image in the second frame.
I suck in a sharp breath, covering my mouth with my free hand as I take in the details of the painting.
A deep purple galaxy of sky surrounds a majestic butterfly.Hamadryas laodamia, more commonly known as the Starry Night Cracker butterfly, has nearly black wings with white flecks that make it resemble the night sky and the Vincent van Gogh painting it’s named after.
My head shakes slowly as I notice the small, curvy LS in the corner—Lena’s signature.
Tears overrun my eyes until I can’t see the painting anymore. I set it gently on my desk, and Micah’s big arms wrap around me. I turn in his embrace and let the tears fall against his chest. He rubs slow, soothing circles on my back until I’ve calmed down enough to lift my head, and he wipes the tears from my cheeks.
“Do I look like a raccoon?” I sniffle.
His coffee-and-cream eyes dance with amusement as he helps me wipe a bit of mascara away. “Not at all,” he says, dropping a kiss to my brow. “You look perfect. Now, go get ’em, tiger.”
He gives me one last tight hug before he walks back to his desk. I take a deep breath, letting it out through pursed lips as I set the picture of me and the girls next to my computer monitor and look over its placement with a watery smile.
One hour until my interview. One hour to wipe my damp cheeks, touch up my mascara, and hardwire my brain to memorize everything I want to say. One hour to give myself the pep talk of the century. To muster every ounce of confidence I’ve built up over the last few months and channel it into today’s interview.
Kyle may have the deceptive ambition and the cunning personality, but I have the unending passion and the genuine heart for this job. And if I can calm my nerves enough, I know I can show that today.
I think back on Lena’s words this morning and shake my shoulders, lift my chest, and spread out my invisible wings.
Ready to fly.
Chapter 41
Finn
I blow out a deep breath as I lean back on the bench around the corner from Millie’s interview, my leg bouncing with tension.
My heart is a wreck today. I’ve been itching to have Millie in my arms, craving her touch and wanting to calm the nerves I knew she must’ve been experiencing. Waiting here for the last hour has been miserable. I’m pretty sure I scared the poor woman who walked by a few minutes ago with the force of my scowl.
A door shuts down the hallway, and heels click toward me. When Millie rounds the corner, she has a shining, self-assured smile on her face that grows even bigger when she spots me.
My shoulders can finally relax, and I stand, wrapping my arms around her and burying my face in her hair. “You look amazing.” The tension seeps from my body as I inhale her lemon-and-vanilla shampoo.
