Position: Chief Marketing Officer, Armstrong Media Group - New York.
Armstrong was a dream company—innovative, female-led, with a reputation for boundary-pushing campaigns.
And three thousand miles from San Francisco.
From Miles. From Lucas.
From the ethical minefield I'd been navigating with increasing recklessness.
"Earth to Savannah." Zoe's voice broke through my thoughts as she appeared in my doorway, coffee in hand.
"I've been knocking for a full minute, are we still on for lunch?”
"Sorry." I minimized the email, guilt flaring at the mere thought of discussing it with anyone.
"Got lost in the Westlake proposal."
She closed the door behind her, settling into the chair across from my desk with an expression I recognized all too well—the look that said I wouldn't be getting rid of her easily.
"Bullshit." She set the coffee before me like a peace offering. "You've been staring at your screen like it contains either the meaning of life or a terminal diagnosis. Spill."
"It's nothing?—"
"If you say 'nothing' one more time, I swear I’m gonna scream out loud.” Her tone was light, but her eyes held genuine concern.
"You've been acting strange for weeks. Disappearing at odd hours. Meeting me out at places looking like you haven't slept. And yesterday, you were practically floating above the ground. Today? You look like someone died."
I sighed, knowing resistance was futile. "I received a job offer. Well, an interview opportunity. In New York."
Her eyebrows shot up. "Seriously? That's amazing! And terrible timing, given you're in the middle of the Westlake project." She paused, studying me with narrowing eyes. "But that's not why you look like that. This is about Silver Fox, isn't it?"
The nickname that once made me laugh now felt like a knife twisting between my ribs.
"Lucas."
"What happened? Last I heard, you were taking a week to think things through, then deciding whether to continue."
"I did think." I swiveled my chair to face the window, unable to meet her gaze directly.
"And I decided. We spent the night together yesterday."
"And...?"
"And it was different. He was different." The memory of his gentleness, his vulnerability, tightened my throat.
"He showed me a side of himself I didn't know existed."
"That's good, right? That's what you wanted—for him to open up emotionally?"
I turned back to her, fingers clutching my coffee cup with unnecessary force.
"That's the problem, Zoe. He gave me exactly what I asked for, and it terrified me."
"Why?"
"Because it's real." The words emerged as barely more than a whisper.
"It's not just incredible sex or forbidden excitement or some self-destructive pattern I can justify walking away from. It's something I could build a life around—if circumstances were different."
