“Did you not even stop to think about what this would do to my career?” I shriek, pacing in front of him. “All along, I honestly thought I did something right to get the elusive August Laurent to agree to an interview when he’s refused everyone else for years. I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could prove everyone wrong and show them I am good at what I do. But all along, the only reason August Laurent agreed was because Julian Gage wanted to get into my pants!”
“That’s not true. That’s not the only reason.” He advances toward me, but I step away.
“Oh really? If I weren’t the one sitting at that coffee shop trying to get a lead on August Laurent, if it were someone else, would you have reached out to them?” I lean into him, my nostrils flaring and fists clenched as I wait for his answer. “If I hadn’t shared my frustrations over the direction of the story, would you have granted me access to some of your clients?”
He averts his eyes. His silence is the only confirmation I need.
I push past him once more and hail a cab, keeping my back turned. I can’t stomach the sight of him, of the visible reminder I’m not enough, that I never would have gotten this far with this story, with this promotion, if he hadn’t made it so.
When a cab pulls up, I go to pull the passenger door open.
“I love you, Guinevere!”
I stop in my tracks, choking out a sob at his admission. I’ve waited months for him to finally say those three beautiful words. I pictured him sweeping me into his arms, showering me with kisses as he declared his love for the first time. Instead, it tastes of desperation, one final act to make me stay.
“That’s the truth. That hasn’t changed. You taught me that. You. That has to count for something.”
“Maybe. But you know what you taught me?” I look over my shoulder at him, but he doesn’t answer. “That being spontaneous comes at a cost, one I’m no longer willing to pay.” I hold his gaze for a moment, watching as the snow falls around him.
“I’m ready to give it all up for you. All of it.” His voice is strained and wrought with emotion.
I bite my bottom lip to stop my chin from quivering. “I wish I could believe you. I just don’t know what’s real and what’s not. Goodbye…whoever you are.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
“Are you certain this is the direction you want to take?” Viv looks at me from over her horn-rimmed glasses.
I rub my clammy hands along my pants, glancing out the window of her office. The city is dark, despite it only being three in the afternoon. A downpour soaks Manhattan, the weather matching my mood.
“Like I said, I’ve given this serious consideration over the past few weeks. I didn’t get the story because of my talent or tenacity. I got it because…” I trail off as I attempt to compose myself. The last thing I need is for Viv to see how the truth of who Julian is has affected me. “Because I had a personal relationship with my…subject, although it was unbeknownst to me at the time. That still doesn’t change anything.” I straighten my spine, rebuilding the wall around my heart. “I would have never gotten remotely close to landing that story had he not had a personal interest in me. You should choose your new assistant editor based on their talent, not luck…or the fact that the subject hoped to get something out of our agreement.”
Telling Viv I no longer want to be considered for assistant editor has been one of the most difficult things I’ve ever done, but it’s necessary. I could never accept a promotion I didn’t earn.
When she doesn’t respond, I stand, heading toward the door.
“Do you honestly believe that?”
I turn around. “What do you mean?”
She removes her glasses, chewing on the end of the frames. “That you didn’t get the interview with Mr. Laurent based on talent.”
“Of course I do, Viv. I dated him without realizing it. He admitted he—”
“I understand that. But do you really think people agree to be the subject of a story based on the goodness of their heart?”
I step away from the door, sucking in my lower lip. “What are you saying?”
She stands from behind her desk and walks toward me, her mouth formed in a tight line. “I’ve been in this industry for more years than I care to admit. It’s one of the toughest jobs out there, especially for a woman. No matter what you do, how much you try to present yourself as serious, there are times when you’ll only get the interview if you turn on the charm, if you make them think there’s a chance of something…more.”
“I didn’t just make him think there was a chance of something more. I gave him something more. And then some.”
“No. You gave that to Julian, not August.”
“I still didn’t get the story based on my talent alone, regardless of whether the man I slept with was Julian or August. I didn’t plan for it to happen this way.”
“Evie…” She runs her hands down my arms. “Life sometimes doesn’t go as planned. It’s how we handle the unexpected that determines our strength. Do you go on to fight another day? Or do you give up because it’s too hard?”
“I’m not giving up,” I mumble.
“No?” She spreads her arms. “Then what do you call this? So you were lied to. It doesn’t lessen your ability to do your job and do it well.”
“But I’d know the truth.” I point to myself, my jaw tensing. “If I continued on and, by some miracle, you gave me the promotion, every time I walked into that office and saw my name on the nameplate, assistant editor below it, I’d question whether I earned it. I need to know I earned it. I’d never…” I stop short. I can’t tell her the other reason. That every time I walked into that office, I’d be reminded of Julian. Ever since I learned the truth over two weeks ago, I vowed to erase him from every aspect of my life. That includes my work life, too.
“I’ve always known you were stubborn,” she says when I don’t finish my thought. “I just didn’t realize you were stupid, too.” She spins and grabs a large envelope off her desk, shoving it at me.
“What’s this?”
“An early proof of the February issue. It’s not final yet, but it has the feature story and the layout you designed. Figured you’d want to see the fruits of all your hard work.”
“Oh.”
She crosses her arms. “Yeah. Oh.”
After several long moments pass and she doesn’t say anything further, I take it as my cue to leave.
“You’re damn good at what you do, Evie,” she offers as I reach the doorway. “You should be proud of everything you’ve accomplished, regardless of how you did so.”
I glance over my shoulder and smile, wishing I could be as proud of myself as it appears Viv is. I walk out of her office, returning to my cubicle and the only thing that makes me feel grounded in a world that seems to have fallen to pieces around me. I pull my new planner out of my desk drawer and make new plans…better plans. Happier plans.
But it still doesn’t heal the gaping hole in my heart. I wonder if anything will.
“Coming to Nora’s to help her decide on centerpieces?”
When I hear Chloe’s voice, I pull my attention away from my planner, which is now covered with decorative stickers and color-coded based on my itinerary for the day. I’ve even started making daily, weekly, and monthly goals for the next three months. It makes me feel like I’m slowly regaining control of my life, like I will move on from this little hiccup.
“The hotel…” She focuses on my desk, then snatches the planner off the surface. “What in the holy hell is this?”
“You know what it is.” I tear it away from her, hugging it to my chest like a baby would a security blanket. “It’s my planner. A new planner. For new plans.”
“Oh, I know that. But what is it doing out here?”
“Nothing.” I hold my head high. “I just like being organized. I dropped the ball the past few months and am now suffering the consequences. Life is better when it’s planned. No surprises. So that’s what I’m doing. Making a new plan for the new year.”