Page 237 of A Song for You

“You did it,” Sophie says from the hall.

I squeeze Cynthia once more and book it toward my best friend.

“We did it,” I tell her as she pulls me against her.

“Little girls all over are going to want to be you,” she whispers.

“Us,” I remind her. “Without you, I never would have stayed.” I swipe away a rogue tear.

“You’re right,” she laughs. “I really do deserve a raise.”

“Done,” Jay says from behind me. When I turn around, he holds out his arms. “Congratulations, Kitten,” he murmurs when I lean into his embrace. He smells of coffee and waffles and all my dreams coming true.

“Is this real?” I whisper, burying my face in the crook of his neck.

I don’t just mean the job. Becoming editor in chief is such a small part of this moment, but it’s a symbol of everything I wanted. The day I walked into Jolie for the first time, I knew I wanted to be Cynthia, but at the time, I had no idea what that entailed.

Years ago, I wanted people to fear me. But the way the people around me look at me is so much better. Their expressions emanate reverence. Love. Adoration.

Being feared has always been a powerful aphrodisiac, but being loved has set me free.

Free to step down from the burdens I’ve put upon myself to be perfect. Free to accept my flaws. Free to walk around in flats or even barefoot rather than the sky-high heels required to keep up with a persona I’ve created that really isn’t me.

Jay cradles my face. “It’s a dream, beautiful. Your dream. But yeah, it’s all real. And it’s all because of you. Now go make that phone call, because I have a celebration planned.”

I peck his lips and snatch his phone from his hand. As I saunter from the room, I shoot over my shoulder, “I’ll see if I can schedule you in. I’m a very busy woman.”

He smacks my ass, causing a round of gasps from all those watching our exchange. “You have an hour, Chief.”

My steps falter and my jaw drops. That might be my favorite nickname yet.

Fifty-Seven

Jay

Say You Won’t Let Go by James Arthur

I’m nervous. It’s not something I can hide. It’s uncontrollable, really. I may have forced Catherine to agree to this marriage, and I know she’ll go through with it for her family, but ultimately, I don’t want her to recite her vows out of obligation.

Pacing the length of the roof, I wonder if I made a mistake. The fact that there were only two rooms in her apartment meant she would eventually be forced to share a bed with me. Now, she’ll have all the space in the world.

If she even agrees to my plan.

Fuck, what if she doesn’t agree?

What if she isn’t ready to move Chloe again?

What if she says no to everything?

I press my hand to my heart and take a steadying breath. Cat cannot see me squirming like this. But the sweat dotting my forehead is a clear giveaway to my current state. It’s almost November, and I’m on a rooftop in Boston. Even with the space heaters set up to warm the area, it’s still chilly.

But fuck, I’m nervous.

Today, Catherine’s dreams came true. She’s wanted to be editor in chief of Jolie since well before the moment I first set eyes on her.

The only thing I’ve ever wanted is for her to be mine.

And today, I hope I can make both our dreams come true.