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How the hell am I supposed to shake this off? Because I must shake it off. I want Max to promote me. I want to build a long career at Harvest Enterprises. And I can’t do that and have Elliot. I hate it. But that’s the way it is.
I have to salvage that accidental flirt fast. Change the topic right back to work. My fingers hover over the keys as I try to come up with something completely professional and non-bed-related. Maybe something about how excited Priya was when all the equipment arrived yesterday.
ELLIOT (09:57 PM)
Folding myself into those chairs for the night did have an upside though…
“No, Elliot. No!” I shout at the phone. “You can’t have me. I can’t have you.”
ELLIOT (09:57 PM)
Are you booked into the same place as me?
I shake the phone in frustration. “Stop it. Just stop it.”
Why does this have to be so hard?
This amazing man wants me. And I want him back. But I can’t have him. No matter how much he thinks it would be okay, it wouldn’t. My hopes of progressing at Harvest would be ruined.
I sink into the pillows and close my eyes. I want to cry like a heartbroken teenager whose crush asked out the dumb-but-popular girl instead. I want to scream at the sky and ask why it’s so unfair—why does the smartest, kindest, funniest, and hottest person I’ve ever met have to be someone I can’t have? I want to lie in bed until the launch is over and I never have to communicate with Elliot again.
And that’s it—the only solution. The only chance I have of shaking off these feelings is to see him as little as possible. It’s the last thing I want. I’ll miss him perching on my desk, chatting and teasing me. But I’ll get over it. I must.
I’d promised myself that once I left home, I’d be entirely focused on my career.
And I need to make good on that promise to myself.
I have to start putting my future first.
I’ll never regret staying home to help Brody recover, but the days of neglecting my education for the sake of someone else are behind me.
Never again will I be the doormat who let their start-up boss dump his pile of work on her at the last minute, chaining her to the desk while everyone else networked. Nor will I be the soft touch who misses out on important opportunities because a chihuahua needs its dinner. And I definitely won’t be the fool who risks the chance of getting her dream job because she has feelings—ridiculous feelings—for the wrong man.
This is my time.
ME (09:59 PM)
I’m not going.
I toss the phone down the bed, where it lands with a dull thud at my feet.
Then I roll onto my side and bury my face in the pillow. Maybe I’ll allow myself just one little cry.
22
ELLIOT
“A
re you sure you wouldn’t like some lavender and chamomile tea?” Priya asks for the third time as I pace across the First Byte office-slash-kitchen. “It’s quite calming. And you look like you could do with… well… calming.”
I do up my jacket button. But it’s instantly too constricting, so I undo it again. “No, thanks. I just need this to be over with.”
Owen bounds into the room with the confidence and joy of a soon-to-be-married man without a care in the world.
It’s okay for him. He’s not the bag of nerves who has to make a presentation in front of a room full of Netto executives, national business press covering Two Coast Tech’s first step into doing good in the world, local press reporting on how the futures of neighborhood children could be changed by this center, and an assortment of the aforementioned children so hopped up on the excitement of getting their hands on the latest gadgets you’d think they’d breakfasted on Pop-Tarts and Cocoa Krispies washed down with Mountain Dew.
Or so Priya told me. I have no idea what’s going on in the main room. I came in the rear door and have been here in the back ever since, trying to stop myself from throwing up or running away.
