Page 51 of Bad Run

“You found me.” Her head rolls to face me, her sad eyes making my chest tight.

I wish I could fix this for her, but I can’t. “I’m sorry.”

Gwen chuckles. “It’s not your fault my father refuses to promote me because I’m an unmarried woman, and being a career woman doesn’t align with our”—she makes air quotes with her fingers—“family’s traditional values.”

My career choices didn’t align with my dad’s traditional values either.

“Wait, you have to be married to work here? Is that even legal?”

I focus on Gwen, ignoring the way my stomach clenches at the memory of my father’s disappointed face when I told him I wasn’t entering the military when I turned eighteen. She’s the one who needs someone to talk to without judgment. Someone on her side.

“Not to work here. Just to hold an executive position. And it only applies to female Montgomery heirs.” She sticks her tongue out, gagging.

“That sounds like bullshit.”

“It’s such bullshit. I can do this job with my damn eyes closed. I did everything I could to prove I’m the right person to take over after Maryse goes on maternity, but my father doesn’t care. At least now I know why he told me I had to start here as a marketing analyst.”

“He was trying to weed you out.”

“Exactly. He should have been honest from the start and told me how he really feels.”

Anger at her father bubbles in my chest. She’s his only daughter, and he doesn’t want to change some antiquated rule so she could work here. It’s fucked up.

“I know Ted is my boss’s boss’s boss, but your dad sounds like a dickhead.”

Gwen barks a laugh. “He is. But the sad part is that he is a wonderful dad. He’s just ...”

“A sexist,” I say, finishing her thought.

“Yup.” She pops her P. “Maybe my father was right?”

“About what?” I incline my head, staring at her silhouette.

“I should have stayed in New York,” she whispers.

“Don’t say that.” My ribs constrict at the thought of her leaving Los Angeles.

“Why not? At least, in New York, I could have an actual career. I’d be appreciated for all my hard work.”

The idea of her being anywhere but here feels like a lead weight in my stomach.

“Don’t make any hasty decisions.” I don’t know what I can do to help Gwen, but I also know I can’t let her leave.

Gwen faces me. “Why not?”

I don’t want you to leave.

The truth is on the tip of my tongue, but I keep it to myself. “Something will work out.”

Another tear falls from the corner of Gwen’s eyes. The room is too dark for me to see the beautiful aqua of her irises, and it kills me.

Instinctively, I reach out and wipe the tears off her cheek with my thumb. She grips my wrist, and the skin-to-skin contact sends a bolt of electricity zipping through me, where it settles in my chest.

“Thank you,” she whispers.

“For what?”

“Sitting on the floor and listening to me complain. I know hearing about stubborn traditional fathers isn’t easy for you,” she says, making me chuckle.