Chapter 8
Grace
I’m reeling from disappointment. I got a call a couple of days ago from Ethan’s boss. It turns out the job vacancy was a real thing, and he told his boss about me and gave him my phone number. So, Ethan isn’t a liar. But he is a complete scum bag, and so is his boss.
As soon as I walk into the apartment, I throw my handbag down on the sofa. I went for the interview today with high hopes, only to be crushed. I had a run-in with Ethan after my interview with his sleazy boss, who had spent the entire time staring at my chest and my legs with a creepy glint in his eyes.
Ethan not-so-subtly let me know the job was mine if I thanked him properly for “hooking me up.” Apparently, his boss—whom he bragged about being so tight with—shared the same sentiment.
What really drove home that Ethan’s office was the worst place to seek employment was when I ran into an employee in the ladies’ room. The woman gave me a once-over and asked, “You’re not here to interview for Chad Crane’s receptionist, are you?”
I turned to the woman and nodded. “I am.”
She hummed and gave me another assessment. “Two words: run, girl.”
I watched her walk out of the bathroom with wide eyes. After my experience with Ethan and then Chad Crane, that warning was enough to send me sprinting from the building. No way would I put myself in a compromising position just for the money.
“Men,” I hiss, wanting to kick something—preferably Ethan. That jackass.
Of course, I’m not hating on the entire male population because of two insignificant jerks. I’m also pissed at the jerk I actually care about.
Rowan Cavanaugh isn’t a bad guy at his core—that’s obvious. But he hurt me... again.
I haven’t heard from him in days. I had the most incredible night with him, and what did he do? He ditched me the morning after with a lame excuse about getting home to ensure his pet didn’t destroy his house.
As if I didn’t see him withdraw emotionally the instant he woke up with me in his arms. The man has serious intimacy issues. He gives a girl everything one minute, then runs from the closeness the next. I didn’t call him out on his bullshit the morning after we slept together because I’ve never been with someone older, and I didn’t want to appear too clingy.
I’ve been torturing myself, contemplating if I should reach out to him first. Needy and desperate isn’t a good look. I may have lost all my material belongings, but I still have my pride.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I flop onto the couch and call my friend Ashley so I’m not tempted to dial Rowan’s number.
“Hey, girl,” she sings. “How was it?”
I’d left for my interview right after my last class. Ashley has been anticipating my call with the good news. She was sure I’d get the job because, in her words, who wouldn’t want my gorgeous self sitting at their front desk?
“Not so good.” I sigh heavily.
“Oh, no. I’m sorry. What happened?”
“Well, everything was fine when I stepped into the building. Everyone I met was super nice until I met the boss, Mr. Crane.”
Ashley scoffs. “Let me guess, a total creep?”
“The worst. My tits and ass were more important than my answers to the interview questions.” I harrumph. It feels so good to have someone to vent to after a craptastic day.
“Ugh! Can you imagine how many women that prick has harassed?”
“I don’t even want to imagine.”
Ashley rants about dickwad men in power, and it sounds like she’s had her fair share of experiences. “They think they can get anything they want without consequence.”
“Yeah. Well, I remain jobless. Back to the drawing board, I guess.”
“You’ll find something,” she assures me. “You sound like you need company. Shall I come over with buckets of ice cream?”
I smile, my mood lightening already. “Buckets? That sounds wonderful.”
“I’ve got the address. I’ll be there in twenty.”
The line goes dead and I’m still grinning. At least I have a friend who can cheer me up.
I’ve decided that I’d like to get to know Ashley better. I invited her over a few of times before, but she’s never made it. This evening will be her first time here.
I look around the posh apartment. She might have questions about the place, and I’m not sure how much to tell her. I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
My phone is still in my hand, and I stare at it. Temptation to call Rowan rises again.
“No, Grace, don’t give in,” I whisper. “Show him you’re not bothered.” My finger tightens around the device, and I lose my battle to be cool. “Ugh! I’m so bothered.”
Not knowing where we stand is killing me. But just as I’m about to tap on his name, there’s a knock.
It can’t possibly be Ashley. And there’s only one other person who’d be knocking.
My heart soars. Rowan has finally decided to stop torturing me. Jumping to my feet, I smooth my hair and put on a smile.
The smile tumbles off my face when I open the door and see the sleek Devlin. “Devlin, hi.” I look over her shoulder, wondering what Rowan’s lawyer is doing here.
“Hi.” Her green gaze sweeps over me. “You look nice. Big day?” There’s a small smile on her lips, but it looks more predatory than friendly.
“Thanks, and not really.” I’m not sure what to make of her visit or the small chat. I tug at my dress. She’s so tall and modelesque I feel like a Plain Jane beside her. “What are you doing here?”
She reaches into her handbag—designer, I’m sure—and pulls out an envelope.