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He laughed softly. “Lies? Really?”

I sent him a hateful glare that I hoped would haunt his nightmares.

“Remember what I said, Miss Honeycutt. I would do anything for my son, even if that means saving him from himself.”

“Charming.” I left the room without a goodbye and drifted to my desk in a daze. Plopping into my chair, I ignored Helen’s curious glance in favor of staring at the coffee cup with the little honeybee drawn on the side.

Shep was trying to scare me away. As if I were a…threat.

Would he truly pauper his own son, cut him off, just to keep me away? Was I really such a danger to his family?

My incredulity transformed swiftly to outrage. His insults to my character—baseless and untrue—didn’t hurt nearly so much as the lost potential. Birdshot fired holes through my subconscious fantasy, the one in which a relationship with Camden Shepherd was possible. Each hole spread with a ring of fire, steadily consuming it from the inside out.

Because what man would pick me—a classless nobody—over a boatload of money?

No one. And the pain of that knowledge, the sting of wanting it to be different, that was the injury now bleeding inside me. No person needed to know their own monetary value to another human. I certainly didn’t want to know mine to Cam.

It didn’t matter, anyway, because I wasn’t in love with Cam Shepherd. I had a crush. Crushes could be snuffed with distance and distraction. I could still walk away without pain, and he’d remain with his inheritance intact. Win-win.

I was only aware tears had fallen when one dripped onto my neck. Helen discreetly pushed a box of tissues my way. I snatched two and headed toward Ivy’s office. Her door was open, so I slipped inside and shut it before she even looked up from her computer. Once she did, her eyes widened. “Who do I need to fire?”

I shook my head and choked out a tiny sob. “I have to quit.”

She went preternaturally still. “Come again?”

“I— I can’t work here anymore.”

“Might I ask why?” The uncanny calm of her voice made the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

Crap. I didn’t think this through. If I told Ivy, she’d tell Cam, which could only end badly. What if he was appalled at the idea that someone thought I might marry him someday? What if he grew angry with his mother for bringing this down on him? At his father for being a douche? What if he caused a scene?

In the back of my mind, the wannabe princess I’d never quite managed to kill peeked out from behind her rock and whispered, What if he declared his undying love and we rode off into the sunset?

No, no, no. That way lay heartbreak.

To buy time, I sank into the chair before Ivy’s desk, using the tissues to wipe my tears. Logical Shay took control and analyzed the situation. Whether Camden understood the lengths to which his father would go to control him, I had no clue, but I didn’t want to be responsible for marring an otherwise unblemished father-son relationship.

No, for the good of everyone—and my own pride—that conversation would remain between Shep and me. So I took the only road left open to me.

“This department doesn’t want me, and I’m not my best self here. It’s too hard.”

She spun her computer monitor to face me, where the TikTok video glowed on the screen. The number of views had grown exponentially since I last looked, and my tears stopped. A thrill shot through me, but I refused to show it, instead sitting back in my seat.

“Shay, it’s working! You can’t leave now.”

My gaze traveled from Ivy to the computer screen and back again, and I shook my head. “I need to leave.”

“No.” Her eyes were steady; her full lips pressed into a straight line.

Trying to ignore the prickly sensation seeping over my skin, I cleared my throat. “No?”

“You can’t quit.”

What I couldn’t do was work for a man who’d called me a whore. In comparison, quitting was easy, even if it meant I’d be unemployed again.

But what will you do for money? whispered the responsible portion of my brain.

Whatever. I’d work at Mom’s diner until I found something more permanent.