Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 679(@200wpm)___ 543(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
I bring my hand to my mouth. I don’t even know what to think or to say. So I start with the simplest thing. A whisper. “I can’t believe you’re buying the studio.”
He shakes his head, adamant. “Just to be clear—I’m not buying it for me. It’s for you. It’s a gift. I’m giving it to you. It’ll be all yours, free and clear. You can always go.”
Tears of love, gratitude, and inimitable joy slide down my cheeks. I throw my arms around his neck. “I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you.”
I can’t stop saying it. But I’m pretty sure he loves the chorus of my words.
Max has never looked happier when he pulls back and says, “I’m not even ashamed about how ravenous I am for those words from you.”
I drop one more kiss to his lips. “Thank you,” I say, then with some reluctance, I reach for the handle. “I’ll see you at the interview.”
I get out, feeling overjoyed as I head across the concourse toward the main doors. But as I’m pushing one open, someone calls out, “Good morning, Everly.”
The sound of Elias’s voice crawls up my spine like a snake.
I turn around, bracing myself.
He’s the picture of smug. “Don’t worry. You don’t need to deny anything. All you have to do is step down from the promotion competition,” he says, then waggles his phone, like it’s a prize. “And if you do it by the end of business today, I won’t post the picture of you getting out of his car right now at…” He stops and makes a show of looking at a watch he doesn’t wear, then adds, “Seven fifty-one in the morning. There’s no professional reason for him to be driving you to work at this hour.” And really, Elias is right. Which is probably why he laughs victoriously. Or really, he cackles. “I can only imagine how it’d look as a woman who’s worked so hard to succeed in sports if everyone finds out you got ahead because you got under a hockey player.”
I’m cold everywhere, shaking in my bones from his threats.
And they just keep coming. “But it’ll be worse if all the press finds out that’s why you got a promotion.”
52
CHANGE OF PLANS
Everly
This is all my fault. This is exactly how people get caught. I was careless. I was caught up in the euphoria of being in love, and I let down my guard. Yes, Max kissed me outside my home this morning, and that was risky enough, but it’s also far away from the office. But to let Max take me to work this early?
That was a rookie mistake.
I can’t move. My head feels like it’s stuffed with cotton, and my heart is pricked with needles. For a long, terrible minute, I feel like I’m sinking in quicksand. I don’t know what to do or where to go. All I can do is watch as Elias sails off into the arena, la-di-da-ing his way inside on a cloud of blackmail and smiles.
I try to shake off this funk. I have a job to do. I can’t let him throw me off. I can’t go into the Zoom call all shook up because of that little man. I take a deep breath and catalog my surroundings. I’m standing in front of the Sea Dogs arena. The door is made of glass.
Beyond it, the signs for concessions are visible. Buses rumble by a hundred feet behind me. When I grab the door, the cool metal is reassuring in my hand.
There. That’s better. I can do this and move forward.
I walk inside, picturing the ice rink that sits below this level, where the team fights to win every goddamn game.
Fight.
That’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to fight for my job, sooner than I’d planned. I won’t let Elias scare me because I’m good at what I do. That means I have to take a meeting right now because that’s part of the job.
I pass Jenna’s cubicle on the way to my office, and she gives me a cheery wave. “Everly, I have the research you asked for before the interview Max has with Erin later today.”
She’s here early too? She’s not usually here before nine. Did she see me outside as well? But then I talk back to my worries—You know who to trust. You can trust her. You can’t trust Elias. You’ve never been able to. “Thanks, Jenna. I appreciate all you do,” I say.
I head into my office, close the door, and log into the call. I shut off everything else as I focus on the Zoom with the team in Boston about some joint press coverage for the upcoming game.
When that’s done, I grab my phone, leave my office, and walk down the hall. The corridor is concrete. The walls are covered with framed photos of the Sea Dogs. At the end of the hall is my boss’s office.