Page 56 of State of Ruin

“I think that conversation needs to happen between you and Sinclair,” Vanessa says gently. “Especially if you’re serious about him.”

I give her a little nod. It does, and I am.

“Look,” she says, “I’m here for you. As far as I’m concerned, you had that job. It was a done deal, one hundred percent. And I need you to know that the guy you’re sharing a bed with crossed every professional line there was to get you off that campaign.”

She sits back, and we all let that land.

“Maybe he thought it wouldn’t be appropriate?” I ask in a quiet, wobbly voice. “Like, it would be favoritism, or something?”

The two women exchange another look.

“It’s possible,” Vanessa says with a sigh, “except that the Vosses don’t give jack shit about favoritism. But the other thing you should know is that I’ve resigned over this. Your boyfriend and I had a big fight first thing this morning when I showed him that Page Six scoop.”

I release my hands from between my legs so I can clap one to my mouth. “Oh my gosh, that’s awful,” I mumble through my fingers. “I’m so sorry for causing all this fuss.”

“No.” She leans forward again and points a finger right at me. “This is not on you. There’s only one person who’s behaved appallingly, and he is not at this table. Okay?”

I drop my hand. “Okay.”

“I asked him straight out,” she says, “whether he’d admitted to you that he’d unilaterally ruined this opportunity for you, and he couldn’t even look me in the eye. He knows he’s on the wrong side of this. And, honestly, it’s not my place to speculate, but I’m too fucking mad not to. My take is that this guy wants to keep you small. He likes things just the way they are, where he’s the hitter and you’re some nobody. And I don’t know about you, but that kind of relationship dynamic doesn’t work for me at all. It doesn’t work in the office, either, which is why I walked.”

My eyes start to sting with unshed tears. She’s making Sinclair out to be some kind of evil monster, when he’s been nothing but kind and adoring to me. She must have it wrong. She may see some weird side to him at work, but she doesn’t know him as well as I do. She can’t. Everything she’s saying is speculation.

“I’m sorry I’ve upset you,” she says. “Really, I just wanted to get you up to speed.”

“That’s okay,” I say. “Thank you for being honest.”

“I told Voss in that pitch that you have a once-in-a-generation face, and I stand by it. I have a lot of industry contacts—I was at Bellamy for a decade before he poached me. And I can promise you this: we’re going to get you a campaign that makes the Voss campaign look like fucking catalogue work. Do you hear me? I’m going to make it my personal mission in life, and not just because I really hate it when men use their power to make women small, but because I believe in you. Your face excites me more than any face I’ve seen in years.”

She nods at me like Let that sink in, and I give her a little nod back. I can’t truly believe she means that, not when I’m all red and blotchy and teary-eyed, but right now, the knowledge that I have someone in my corner feels really good. Especially since I have no clue what to think about Sinclair.

Vanessa stands in a single elegant movement and gathers up her coat—black, expensive-looking. “If you need any more proof,” she says, “then I fully expect to be able to give you some in a couple days, when Voss tries to paper me up to the eyeballs.” At my confused frown, she continues. “I bet your ass he’ll serve me up a big, fat exit NDA to gag me on this topic.” She winks. “Which is why this little chat had to happen today. Anyway, I’ll make some calls, check out some jobs. I’ll be in touch.”

And with that, she’s gone.

“That was a lot, babe,” Olivia says, reaching for my hand across the table and giving it a squeeze. “How are you feeling?”

“I have no idea,” I tell her. “Like—her telling me that I almost got that job is super validating… but if I believe that, then I have to believe that Sinclair screwed me over, for whatever reason, and…” I shrug. And I don’t know what to do with that. I don’t know how to handle it.

“Yeah,” she says, scrunching up her face in sympathy. “It sucks. I hope it was okay to call you in today. I just wanted you to hear it from her, you know? For personal reasons as well as professional. Because you guys are on Page Six. Things are about to get real. So if he doesn’t have your interests at heart, then this is a pretty good time to do something about it.”

CHAPTER 30

Elyse

Itext Sylvie that Olivia wanted to introduce me to a hotshot creative director. It’s kind of true, and I don’t want her to worry. But I can’t stand to head home without at least trying to talk to Sinclair. I pull out my cell and drum my fingers on it as I consider. Usually, we just message each other. I’ve never called him at work before. He’s busy and important and I don’t want to be that girl who tries to lay claim to him when he’s got bigger stuff going on.

Only… I’m busy too. Sinclair isn’t the one caring for his sister, or working late, or commuting in and out from Jersey, or running all over the place for casting calls that amount to nothing. He gets to sit there in his big, fancy office. I’m sure the stakes are high, but the stakes are high for me too, and the idea that he might be the person who single-handedly killed my chances at this huge freaking opportunity is honestly making me lose my mind.

In the end, I chicken out and text him, standing on the corner of Mulberry and Prince, my foot tapping the whole time.

Hey

R u busy rn? I’m downtown but I need to talk 2 u

I’ll give him fifteen minutes to reply. If I don’t hear from him, I’ll call him.

My cell lights up almost immediately, and my heart rate cranks up. I answer immediately. “Hey.”