Page 83 of Manhattan Bossholes

“I need to...?” she sputtered, incredulous. “No, you need to stop telling me what to do, Vincent!”

“Piper, come on,” I grumbled at her. “You should know better. This is an optics game. How things look is all that matters. The health of this business comes before everything else.”

“Of course you’d say that,” she fired back at me, her voice full of venom. “All that matters to you is this business—you’ve made that incredibly clear.”

“Because business is the only thing that lasts!”

My voice echoed around the room like a slap. Piper’s tough facade crumbled for a second, and it looked like she was about to cry. Despite everything that had gone wrong between us, my body buzzed with the need to try to make things right for her. I’d never intended to hurt her, yet here I was, doing it again. I watched her closely, hoping she’d open up and tell me what was really going on beneath the surface. But no, she straightened her back and glared at me.

“Shockingly, I agree,” she said. “Business is the only thing that lasts. I’m dedicating my life to what matters, and from this point forward, it’s Strapped. We’re getting ready to sign the final paperwork with Mercedes. That means there’s no room in my life for this place.”

Or for me. She didn’t need to say it. The implication was clear.

“I’m sure my leaving won’t even cause a blip around here,” she said. “You were doing fine before I showed up, and I trust that’ll be the case once I’m gone.”

She was wrong. Every aspect of my life had been better with Piper in it. But her mind was made up. She was moving forward with her dreams.

“Thank you for the opportunity, Vincent.”

Piper sounded so formal, like I was nothing more than a stranger. This was wrong. Sure, we’d always had an expiration date, but I never expected the end would be so abrupt.

So…painful.

I forced myself to act like her leaving didn’t matter to me.

“You were a valuable addition to the Summit team, and we appreciate your hard work,” I said in an even voice. “Best of luck in your future endeavors.”

I hated speaking every fucking word, pretending like Piper was just a regular employee giving notice.

We stared at one another until the silence in the room turned into a ringing in my ears. Everything felt wrong.

“Goodbye,” Piper said simply.

And then she walked out of my office and out of my life.

PIPER

I felt like I didn’t exhale the entire time I was in Vincent’s office.

My palms were indented with half-moons from my nails, and my shoulders were overstretched rubber bands. I wanted to kick off my heels and run a few miles to try to lose the tension and sadness my body was holding, but I still needed to finalize my last day. Yeah, I was quitting abruptly, but I wasn’t going to be a complete asshole. There was paperwork to sign in HR, and I needed to say goodbye to my colleagues.

I did my rounds and answered the same questions over and over. Yes, I was sad to go. No, it wasn’t because of what happened with Vincent. Yes, we could keep in touch. I went into autopilot to keep myself from feeling too much.

I didn’t want to spend a second doubting my decision.

After all, I’d gotten everything I wanted. A nest egg to help launch my business and an introduction to Mercedes to kick it off. It was what Vincent and I had agreed to. And it was a mutually beneficial partnership, because he got what he needed as well.

And now it was over. And that was fine.

I’d planned ahead and driven Darcy’s grandmother’s car again, so I wouldn’t have to take the subway ride of shame with a box stuffed full of my belongings balanced on my lap while the rest of the riders gave me sad, knowing looks.

I packed the last of my things—a welcome plant that had been waiting for me on my desk on my first day that I’d miraculously kept alive, a stress ball in the shape of a bottle of perfume, framed photo of Darcy and me to remind me what I was working toward—and took one last look around.

The end of my tenure was a nightmare, but I’d sure had fun while it lasted.

I hoisted the box onto my hip, flipped off the light, and nearly ran into Linda.

“Oh, hey,” I said, wary because Linda was Vincent’s lifeline, guardian, and pit bull.