“About five minutes,” Nathan said without looking at me. “Which is four minutes too long.” He huffed quietly under his breath. “Unbelievable.” I flinched at the disdain in his voice even though it wasn’t aimed directly at me. I stepped to the side, putting a little more space between us.
Nathan leaned against the wall, shoved one hand in his pocket, and exhaled through his nose, clearly irritated.
The smell of chocolate suddenly invaded my senses and I remembered the chocolate muffin I picked up before coming to work. The plan was to eat at my desk before I dived into my workload, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
“Want some?” I asked, holding out the muffin.
Nathan glanced at it, eyes narrowing as if I were offering him a poisoned chalice instead of a simple treat. “Bakery Bliss?” he said, reading the logo as if the name were a test.
“It’s my favorite bakery,” I clarified, trying not to sound too eager. “I don’t usually go since it’s out of the way, but I decided to treat myself today, given it’s kind of a special occasion.”
“What’s today?”
His complete lack of awareness stung more than it should have. It wasn’t like we were in a relationship, but I’d hoped, maybe foolishly, that he’d remember something as simple as the day I started working for him.
“Today marks three years that I’ve been working for you,” I said, forcing a smile.
Nathan’s expression didn’t shift. “Three years,” he repeated, pressing his lips together. “I can’t believe it’s been that long.”
“Yeah,” I said. Especially since I’d been convinced I would quit after my first day. “Neither can I.”
Nathan’s gaze snapped back to his phone when it dinged with a notification, his jaw locking instantly at whatever he just read. “And while you were busy indulging your sweet tooth, you missed the Bryce Decker story.” He paused, without looking up. “Dauntless Records signed him this morning.”
The words hit me like a gut punch. Bryce Decker? The man who’d made my life uncomfortable more times than I cared to count, hitting on me with that smarmy grin? Nathan had terminated his contract last week and now he was signed to Nathan’s biggest competitor. I swallowed, face flushing. Somehow, I’d missed the industry’s biggest move this week. I was supposed to be the one keeping Nathan ahead of the curve, the first to spot shifts before anyone else. Instead, I was standing here blindsided, like some clueless intern on her first day.
I opened my mouth to explain, to apologize for getting caught up in my own life for once, but he cut me off.
“Seriously, Elise, why do I keep you around?” His voice was low, sharp, dripping with impatience and contempt.
I froze. The room felt too small, the air too thick. The muffin in my hand suddenly lost all appeal.
Nathan didn’t wait for a response. Without looking up from his phone, he added, “Set up a conference meeting with the exec team. We need to figure out how we’re responding to Dauntless or you won’t need to worry about what dessert you’re going to have to celebrate year four.”
I suspected I knew where Nathan was coming from. It was about what it looked like—Nathan Edge letting talent walk straight into a competitor’s hands.
The elevator suddenly dinged, jerking us upward, and I wondered if this was some cruel metaphor for my career trajectory. Three years, and I was still stuck in this endless loop of casually cruel interactions with him. My chest tightened as his words hit, and part of me ached, thinking maybe I really had messed up. But another, sharper part of me flared knowing he was lashing out, and I was the easiest target.
I bit my lower lip to stop myself from saying a string of curse words that would’ve made a sailor blush.
We worked together for three years and I was nowhere closer to liking him than I was on the first day we met.
The doors opened on our floor, and I stepped out, telling myself two things as I walked toward my desk.
One, I was going to start taking the stairs.
Two, I needed to lock my heavy office supplies in a drawer for the rest of the day.Especially my stapler.
CHAPTER TWO
NATHAN
THE CONFERENCE ROOMbuzzed with a low hum of tension as my exec team filed in, their faces tight with unease.
The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare on the long glass table, reflecting the reality we were here to fix. The rumors had spiraled faster than I’d anticipated. Social media and entertainment blogs were ablaze with the narrative that Dauntless Records had “poached” one of our artists, Bryce Decker
Poached.
One of the many reasons I terminated his contract was because his last album tanked. But truth didn’t matter in the music industry.
