Your Fierce Love (The Bennett Family 7)

They start triaging us in the afternoon. By four o’clock, just six of us are left from the thirty. Theresa didn’t make the cut, which is a pity. I liked her. They’ll only hire three though, so the game is still on. I’m dizzy and hungry by the time they call me in for the last interview. A woman with a short, graying bob welcomes me inside. My portfolio is to her right, my custom illustration for them on the left.

“I’m Sheila Radcliffe. Take a seat, Ms. Abernathy. You’re pale. Are you feeling all right?”

Yep, just confused and broken-hearted. And what with the lack of caffeine in my system and the general drowsiness the doctor warned might hit me in the first trimester, I feel like I’m wading through a particularly thick cobweb of thoughts.

“Just been a long day, but I’m excited to be here.”

She scoffs. “Please, between the two of us, I can be honest. This process has been a nightmare. Our HR really needs to get their act together. Who’s got time for ten interviews?”

I smile weakly. “This is my twelfth.”

“Pffft, see what I mean? I wanted you on my team since I saw this.”

She holds up an illustration from my portfolio. It’s two years old, and I did it on a whim, in one crazy night. It’s a little strange and a lot colorful.

“Wow, really?”

She nods. “Really. This tells me you have creativity. Technique can be learned, but creativity comes from within. So yeah, that’s what convinced me. But HR insisted on a million interviews to see if we’re a good fit and whatnot.” Ah yes, that does sound like HR bullshit. “I told them the only thing I care about is the illustrator’s work, not which personality type they are, but alas, I don’t make all the rules. So, Clara—can I call you that?”

“Yes, please.”

“Brilliant! You’re available to start immediately, right?”

I can barely believe this is happening. “I am.”

“Good. Because I want to change the plans. I do get to make some rules, thank goodness. All of the remaining six candidates are my favorites, and I don’t want to narrow it down yet. What I do want is for all of you to go through with the two weeks

of training, and at the end of it, we’ll see who we’re keeping.”

I nod, a little disappointed that the process will stretch out even more.

“Would you be able to start the training tomorrow instead of next week? There’s a plane flying out this evening—we’re paying for all expenses, of course—and I really want to get the ball rolling.”

Oh snap. The training is at their headquarters, which is in Boston. If I take off this evening, it means I get a very short time to talk to Blake, and I was hoping to at least get a good night’s sleep before tackling that. But there’s no way I can say no. Friendly as Sheila is, it’s clear that saying no is an exclusion criteria.

“Sure, no problem. I’m your girl.”

She claps her hands, smiling brightly. “Excellent. I think you’ll like it at Ayaks Publishing, Clara.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

Blake

Hi, Blake. I got to the next level!!! Which is not being hired. They’ll decide which of us they keep after the two-weeks training. They changed the schedule and want to start the training tomorrow, so I have to fly out to Boston tonight. I’m home now, packing, but you’re not here, and I can’t wait any longer or I’ll miss the plane. Maybe this is for the bes,t though! You’ll have two weeks to think about everything. We’ll talk when I get back. I understand this was a shock to you, but I hope you’ll do right by the baby, even if you don’t want me. Please don’t call. I don’t want to talk about this on the phone.

I read the message for the twentieth time. She thinks I don’t want her. Jesus, out of all the mistakes I’ve done in my life, this takes the cake, by far. Yeah, it was a shock, but that was a knee-jerk reaction.

I planned to apologize last night, but that went nowhere. While she was here, packing, I was running around setting up our big dinner. I’d planned on this being a big dinner even before I screwed up. This was going to be the night when I told her I loved her and officially asked her to move in. I wanted to wait until after the whole Ayaks business was over because she spent the week before in a frenzy working on their custom illustration. It was my “go big or go home” moment. I thought she’d love a great, romantic gesture. Screw great gestures. This is what you get for waiting for the right moment. There is no right moment. There is just right now.

And right now, the morning after, she isn’t answering her phone. Yeah, I respected her wish last night about not calling, but after spending most of the night awake, I broke down and called. Zip. Nada. No answer.

My phone rings, and I desperately hope it’s Clara. It’s not. My baby sister’s name appears on the screen.

“Hey!” she greets cheerfully. “What are you up to?”

I debate for a moment telling her what happened, then decide against it. It’ll open a can of worms.

“Not much.”