I glared at him.
"She doesn't, does she?" Greg scoffed.
I resisted the urge to punch him in the face.
"Your tower is not the only fire I'm dealing with right now. I’m about done with helping out Holbrooks, what with this business with Wes Holbrook and all of his father's random children that keep popping up. I'm not risking the financial solvency of Frost Tower because the Holbrooks have to have Chloe there."
I started to argue, but Greg cut me off.
"I'm sick of entitled billionaires, you included," Greg spat. "Get out of my office before I just decide to sell the whole tower to the Qataris."
61
Chloe
Iknew I needed to see Jack before I left; I didn't like the way we had left things. My bags were packed, and my cookware was wrapped up in newspaper and packed safely in a large heavy-duty plastic box.
I felt nervous as I stood in front of his door. Was he still angry at me?
He didn't smile when he opened his door and saw me. He just looked concerned.
"Chloe," Jack said. "I… didn't expect you."
"Is this a bad time?" I asked him. I felt jumpy, and my stomach was churning.
"No, come in. I wanted to talk to you, actually," he said once we were standing in his living room.
"I wanted to talk to you too," I said. "Just let me go first." His mouth snapped closed. "I'm sorry I went behind your back to your parents. I was just trying to help. I didn't want you to think I was just freeloading off of you."
He started to protest, but I held up a hand. "Let me finish. I'm not like Hartleigh. I don't want you for your money or your name. I just likeyou." I looked down at my boots. "I think we probably took it a little fast. I barely know you. I'd like to keep seeing you if you still want to."
He nodded, and I blew out a breath. "In the spirit of being independent, I will most likely be taking a job in a restaurant in Brooklyn as their pastry chef. It's like a cool pop-up restaurant; it will be fun." I tried to make the new job sound hip and upbeat, but really, I was nervous. What if it was a huge mistake? It felt like a huge mistake. Maybe I shouldn't have accepted the offer so quickly. Why did I always rush into things without thinking?
"I see," he said. Jack looked dejected. He crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at the floor.
"We can still see each other," I told him, putting my hand on his arm. "But it will be on a bit more equal footing. We'll set a date and a time then go to a movie or a wine bar. We'll be like classy, normal people. I won't show up at your door wearing some ridiculous Christmas outfit." I was trying to elicit a laugh, but Jack didn’t even crack a smile.
"So that's all I have," I finished lamely.
"Right," Jack said. "Well." He worked his jaw. "Is this what you really want? To work for someone else back in the kitchen making desserts for the next decade, receiving no recognition?"
I was taken aback. Who did he think he was?
"Hey, this is my dream!" I said loudly. "Just because you're a fancy-pants billionaire with your nice cars and a tower doesn't mean you can pooh-pooh what other people do with their mediocre lives."
"You're not mediocre," he said softly.
I felt a little mediocre. I hadn’t won the bake-off after all, and the restaurant in Brooklyn wasn’tthatgreat. But still. My dream was to live in New York City, and this was how I was going to accomplish that goal.
"This is what I want," I said firmly. But even to my own ears, it didn't sound like I meant it. I tried to shake off my apprehension. My emotions were all askew because I was sad that I was leaving the tower and disappointed that I hadn't won the bake-off.
He looked away from me then back with a strained smile. "If that’s what you really want."
I shuffled my feet on the floor.
"I'll miss you," Jack said finally. "I don't know what I'll do without you sneaking up to my door at odd hours of the night."
"We can still visit each other," I said. "Brooklyn's not that far away."
