I laugh, fighting the urge to snatch his whiskey and throw it in his face.
He put me in the same ring with a man whose presence already destabilized me. “You made me compete with him!”
He raises his arms in a mock surrender. “Okay, that was just the circumstances. We needed to make it legit for him.”
“And you didn’t think about reading me in on your little charade?”
Didn’t think I deserved the truth? Or thought I’d play along if they never named the rules?
“Don’t be dramatic. It was good practice for you.”
I stand up. “Fuck you, Corm. I’m glad I’m stepping out. You clearly don’t trust me or respect me enough, so maybe this whole situation worked out well for everyone involved.”
If I stay, I validate the game. If I compete, I become part of the trade. If I leave, I take myself off the board.
He stands up, practically trembling withanger. “No, it didnotwork out well. You deserve the partnership.”
Oh, how I wished to hear those words before. How they still seep warmth and satisfaction into every corner of my being, eating away at my resolve. I let them soothe me for a beat.
This is how they get you. With affirmation, just late enough to make you doubt yourself.
“It’s too late for that.” I lift my chin. “I had an affair with Liam Stone, breaking the rules. I can’t stay here under the circumstances. It wouldn’t send the right message.”
The argument is bullshit wrapped in corporate policy, but I don’t need Corm to dig deeper and discover more.
I need a clean exit. One he can’t argue with.
I’m also eighty percent sure I’m making a mistake. But Liam used me. And so did Corm. I’m standing up for myself.
He jerks his head. “I fucking knew that. It changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.” My eyes burn again. Since when have I been such a crier? “I have to go.”
If I stay another second, I’ll ask him to save me. And I won’t forgive myself for that.
Without waiting, I burst out of his office. I have never been prone to drama, but todayhas been trying enough. I need to step out of here and compose myself. See the forest, not the trees.
In a very uncharacteristic move, Corm follows.
Oh, the irony. I always wanted them to care. To take me as one of them. But, Jesus, let me fall apart in private.
“Is he blackmailing you?” Corm asks as we reach the elevator.
A few people in the lobby freeze. Alina’s eyes widen as she drops the phone receiver she was holding.
I can feel their gazes on my face. The humiliation burns, but it also hardens something inside me.
The elevator dings behind me. “You asked that already.” I step into the waiting cart.
This time, he doesn’t follow. Finally, he understands I don’t need his bullying. I need to get out of there.
“This conversation is not over,” he warns.
“You will get my letter of resignation tomorrow morning.”
I won’t explain it. I won’t negotiate it. I won’t soften it.
And hopefully, I won’t regret it.
