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Gigi stands outside the elevator. She’s out of breath, her chest heaving just a little beneath her button-down shirt, and I wonder why she’s in such a hurry.
“I’m glad I caught you before you left,” she says, punching the button for the lobby because I haven’t gotten that far yet. “Well, maybe not glad. Thankful, maybe? That you hadn’t had a chance to start celebrating.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask, blinking at her as I try to process her words.
Gigi shakes her head, letting out a sigh. “No, I’m the one who’s sorry, Sophie. I did overstep. It’s not going to work out, you in this position. We’re going with another candidate.”
My heart sinks so fast that I’m pretty sure it reaches the lobby before the rest of my body does.
Chapter 8
Sophie
Gigi’s eyelids flutter shut as soon as she’s delivered her bad news, as if she doesn’t want to look at me anymore.
I understand the sentiment completely. I wish there was a way to disappear from this metal box, and I actually consider, for a brief moment, pressing a different button on the wall in front of me to make my escape.
This has to be some kind of trick. Or prank. Or test, even, to see how I’ll react.
“Oh. I see,” I say carefully.
“I’m sorry,” Gigi repeats, and I know it’s not any of those scenarios. This is really happening. I really had my dream job in hand… until I didn’t.
It’s gone.
“Thank you for the opportunity,” I say as the elevator doors open. I give her a jerky nod and step out into the lobby, not sticking around to see if she has anything else to say.
She’s said a lot—and enough.
The walk across the marble floor feels interminable, and as soon as I’m outside the building, I suck in a deep breath. I didn’t even realize I was holding my breath through my flight across the lobby. Because that’s what I’m doing. Fleeing.
I press my hands to my cheeks. Am I dreaming? Is this a nightmare?
I turn in one direction, then the other. I don’t know where I’m going. Where I’m supposed to go. Because as the rollercoaster of this morning finally comes to a halt, one thing is clear.
I had the job. Then, after I crossed paths with my boss, I didn’t have the job.
Declan. Freaking. Wright.
Shock and despair give way to pure anger. It’s almost a relief to be pissed off instead of devastated. I never expected to see Declan again after that night in San Francisco. I had no idea, going into this interview, that he was the CEO of the company I wanted to work for. I called him Dominic. I had no idea who he really was at that point.
Up until this very moment, that night was something of a secret treasured memory for me. Now, though, I have some big fucking regrets.
I wish I’d never decided to have sex with Declan. Because now, I’m the one who’s screwed.
I’m certain he’s the one who decided I wouldn’t be a good fit for his company after all, because the only thing that happened between Gigi telling me the job was mine and her telling me it wasn’t was our meeting with Declan.
This is so stupid. So unfair. Because I’ve been robbed of two things at the same exact time: the hottest night of my life and the job of my dreams.
I knew, on some level, that the man I was hooking up with in San Francisco was a man who controlled every aspect of his life. I remember being a little floored, both turned on and intimidated, by the power that radiated from him like an aura. But he was such an amazing lover that I failed to realize one key thing.
Declan Wright is a total asshole.
“Move your ass,” a man barks at me, and his gruff voice snaps me out of my thoughts. That’s right. I’m in New York City, standing at a full stop in the middle of a packed sidewalk, the foot traffic parting around me.
I do need to move my ass. I need to move it away from this dream and on to the next one.
It’s cold comfort, but I cling to the thought that maybe having a boss like Declan, who’s obviously a total jerk, would’ve been bad. Maybe this is the universe saving me from needless suffering. Maybe… it’s all meant to be. Somehow. Possibly.
