Page 94 of I Saw You First

“Do you…” I trail off and clear my throat again. This is harder than I thought it would be. I thought that after all these days avoiding each other, telling her would be easy. “Do you have a minute to speak privately in the Dugout?”

She forces a smile. “I do not. If you recall, I’m currently the only media employee until eleven, and I have so much to do before we open.”

“Fine.” I glance around. We’re the only ones in the department. “If that’s how you’re going to play it.”

She crosses her arms against her chest, protecting herself.

“I’m leaving,” I say softly. “My last day at Woodlake is Thursday.”

Her arms drop and her face falls, too. “Wh-what? Why? Thursday, as in two days?”

I keep my expression neutral, professional. “I’ve been moved up in the rotation to the AGM spot at Ridge.”

“But… but…” she sputters. “Why so soon?”

“That’s how it works sometimes. Century Dupont will be your new manager. He starts Sunday.”

She shakes her head. “No, he can’t. I’m off this weekend.” She’s reeling, panicking. I recognize the wild eyes, flicking from one thing to another, and the shaky breath.

For the first time, I think about what this means for Abbey—me leaving. We’ve all left her—Aurora, Cesar, now me. I give a tiny shake of my head. I’ve already hurt her so much, but it’s the right thing to do. For both of us. It’s the only thing to do.

“You don’t need to be here,” I say calmly. “Kevin and Lavender are perfectly capable of setting an ad.”

“But I should be here for his first day. What if he comes in and wants to change a display or… or… do things differently? And he doesn’t know Kevin, doesn’t understand how he operates, not like I do. I’ve worked too hard for some French dude to come in here and mess things up.”

“French dude?” I have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Dew-pon.” She wrinkles up her nose. She’s adorable, even when she’s spiraling.

“Century is not French. He’s from Green Bay. And he’s not going to mess anything up.”

“How do you know for sure?”

I place a hand on each shoulder. I shouldn’t touch her, I know that, but I crave the connection. I’ve had my hands—and my mouth—on every inch of this body, and the fact that I shouldn’t be touching her, not even like this, breaks me.

“Breathe,” I say. “Century has worked for Hometown for seven years. He knows what he’s doing. They’ll be fine without you for one day. You’ve got to learn that you can’t control everything all the time.”

“Oh, like you?”

Point taken. I drop my hands.

“Well. Anyway. I wanted you to hear the news. From me. Before the morning meeting.”

“I think I’ll skip the morning meeting, if that’s okay with you.”

She walks away, and I can only watch her go.

Sam finds me later in the Dugout.

“Well,” he says, “I know how Abbey’s doing. How are you?”

“How do you think I am?” I snap.

He holds up his hands in surrender. “Sorry I asked.”

My anger dissipates. “Shit, no, I’m sorry.”

“You want to know what I think?”