AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I don’t belong here anymore.” With that said, I opened the door and stepped out. We were surrounded by Lexuses, Jaguars, and BMWs. My colleagues wore suits worth more than what most people made in a month. Or four… Hell, I was one of them—and it had to stop.
I looked at the rows of gleaming cars and suddenly saw nothing but billable hours away from family and loved ones. We let ourselves be distracted by high-status gadgets, bonuses, and promotions so that we’d ignore the late-night meetings, the ulcers, the headaches, and the sheer fucking pressure you felt when you knew that the piece of advice you offered a client could earn or lose them millions of dollars.
Even so… As revolting as I felt this could be, I didn’t know how to be anyone else. I didn’t know what else I was good at. I had no goddamn clue what was going to happen when I left this building for the last time—and that terrified me.
My fingers prickled with numbness, and a tremor of pain traveled through my chest.
“Lucian,” KC said patiently. “You don’t have to do this today.”
Except, I did.
I swallowed against the dryness in my throat and peered back into the car. At Noa, more accurately. “I do. I just need my emotional support animal with me.”
Noa perked up and smirked crookedly. “For reals? But just so you know, I prefer emotional attack dog.”
“Good lord,” KC drawled. “You have not thought this through.”
Maybe not.
So be it.
Noa scrambled out of the car, and I asked KC to keep the engine running.
This shouldn’t take long.
After making sure I had everything—conveniently tucked into the front pocket of my hoodie—I led the way to the elevators.
“Can I make a scene?” Noa asked happily.
I side-eyed him.
KC was right.
I had not thought this through.
“Let’s try not to,” I advised.
Noa had visited me countless times, though usually at my other office across the river, where we didn’t have to worry about pompous superiors who never left the seventeenth floor. The office in DC was much more low-key and casual, for some reason. My coworkers there loved Noa—or “KC’s boy,” as they referred to him.
I pressed my key card to the pad in the elevator so we could access the top three floors, and Noa looked like he was building up a case for himself.
In the meantime, I uncapped the bottle of my anxiety medication and popped two pills dry. I eyed the label. One or two when needed, maximum of three times a day. The doctor had promised they were mild, so I hoped I wasn’t about to pass out. It was more a precaution than anything else.
“I would like to propose an exception,” Noa said formally. “If someone’s rude to you or tells you to just sleep it off, I’d like to at least make my presence known.”
My mouth twitched.
We were two sweatpants-wearing, bed-head-sporting men heading up in an elevator paneled in mahogany, and we were about to enter an office area where everyone was judgmental. Approximately two-thirds of them would never have the balls to utter a word to me, and the others worked above me.
Either way, our presence would be known from the moment we exited the elevator.
“Just wait until we’ve left my office,” I said. “After that, the worst thing that could happen, we get escorted out.”
“Life goal,” he whispered under his breath.
I chuckled silently and peered up at the numbers going higher for each floor we ascended.
This was the right call.
