The ache in my core, however, suggests I’m not quite over him. But confronting him about it all would make me splinter in front of the whole office and that certainly isn’t an option. Better to let him stew over it.
He watches me, a mix of emotions flitting across his face. I miss his floppy hair. I miss the way it falls over his eyes and has to be pushed back. I miss funny, kind, compassionate James. The one who pulled me from the river and bandaged my leg with his ripped-up shirt and told me stories about his sisters. Not this version. The corporate, slimy, scheming James.
Was any of it even real? Was all of it just a way to complete Michael’s stupid challenge?
“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he whispers.
“What would you like me to say?”
“I just…”
“What happened to you suing, Michael?” I ask in hushed tones. “What happened to you hating it here? You seem to have settled right back in.”
He scoffs, his eyes alight. “And you haven’t?”
I open my mouth to say, “No.” But instead I say nothing, turning away, leaving James running his fingers through his hair.
I log in to my laptop, typing as fast as my fingers will go. I read through it once and then hit print.
*
My heart races as I walk to Michael’s office. I don’t bother to knock, what civilities or courtesies does he deserve at this point? No, I let myself straight in, marching right up to his desk, allowing the door to slam shut behind me. Michael looks up in surprise. I slap the letter down in front of him. He blinks.
“I quit.”
“Pardon?” he asks, confused. I cross my arms and stand my ground. “Fliss, surely you’re not quitting because I promoted James. You’re better than that, and we both know it.”
I smile, relief flowing through my veins.
“Actually. I can. Effective immediately, in fact. I’ll just collect my things and be on my way now. I’ll expect to be paid three months’ severance.”
“Well, hang on now. I don’t think so…”
“For six years you’ve not given me the respect I deserve. I’ve worked my arse off for you. And you’ve been knowingly paying me almost half what you pay James.”
“Fliss,” Michael says my name with care, surprise, hurt crossing his features. I hate him. The patronising bastard. I can see the confident glow in his eyes. He thinks he can walk me down off this ledge. “The reason James got the role was because he proved himself. He makes The Starr Agency an incredibly profitable business.” Michael rises from his chair, splaying his fingers on his desk. “You don’t need to leave. I’ll increase your salary in line with his. How does that sound?”
Like he should have thought about that years ago.
I laugh at the absurdity of it. “Goodbye, Michael,” I say as I walk back to his door.
He steps around his desk as if he might chase me out of here. “Your contract says you have to give three months’ notice. You can’t really think I’ll just let you leave?”
“Oh, I think you will.” I grab the door handle but don’t open it just yet, half-twisting to say the next part. “You’ll pay me three months, or else I’ll sue you for being a fucking lunatic, endangering my life and breaking several employment laws!”
“Now come on, it was an adventure,” he says, disappointment rife in his tone. “You can still do big things here. If another position comes up on the board, you’ll be the—”
“Stop right there, Michael,” I interrupt. “There’s nothing you can say that would change my mind. I’d rather shovel shit than spend another second working for you.”
And with that I turn on my heel. He doesn’t call after me, and I think I even detect a newly found hop in my step – a weight lifted from my shoulders. James’ eyes are on me now, following me as I practically glide across the office. I ignore him.
I stride over to Gemma and give her a big hug.
“What’s that for?” she laughs.
“I’m going,” I whisper, not wanting to cause a fuss.
“You taking an early lunch?”
