Page 8 of Broken Vows

“I agree with Sydney,” I say, maybe a little too quickly, because, seriously, I can’t do this. “I’m an assistant at the agency, not a lead. I’m still learning. I’d hate to be the cause of something… negative… happening with your special day.”

“Nonsense,” Theo says.

I stare at the sweet, beautiful Annabelle. Say something! Where’s the typical bridezilla who’d throw a fit about a junior staff member planning her wedding? Why is she just sitting there with nothing but an encouraging smile?

Theo leans forward on his elbows and pins me with a gaze. “I can already tell you’re the right person for the job. Sydney, there’s no problem here, is there.” A definite statement, and not a question, and seriously, what is happening?

My eyes snap to Sydney, whose ego is no doubt taking a hit. “No, of course not. Lexie’s incredibly gifted,” she says with a flex in her jaw. “And I’m happy to assist in anything you may need.”

There’s absolutely no way on God’s green earth that I can spend the next six months with Theo, planning his wedding. His wedding! I can’t even stomach being around him for an hour, and I’ll be responsible for the most important day of his life? This can’t be happening. I didn’t wake up late today. I didn’t stumble into my office and face the man who stole everything from me. I didn’t just hear that he wants to work directly with me. I’m in bed, cozied under my million blankets, waiting for the alarm to go off.

“Really, I’m flattered, but Sydney should lead this. She’s the best at the firm.” I’m not even blowing smoke up Sydney’s ass. When I say Sydney literally lives and breathes this job, I’m not exaggerating.

“And I don’t doubt your talents. But I’ve always preferred working with someone who sees things the way we do.”

What?

“It’s nothing personal,” Annabelle adds at once, apologetic.

She smiles—but it doesn’t reach her eyes. The expression appears like a reflex, practiced and precise, as if she’s smoothing the moment before it can wrinkle. Her fingers curl lightly into the fabric of her skirt, then still.

And suddenly I see it.

Not affection. Not ease.

Compliance.

The kind of smile you wear when disagreement isn’t an option.

The buttons on my shirt dig into my skin. My blouse feels like a tight-laced corset compressing my insides. There’s no air. I need to get out of here, into a bigger, safer space, far away from Theo and this whole situation.

“Thank you so much for everything, Sydney,” he says. “I’m sure you understand.”

There’s a finality in his tone that makes my belly tighten.

“Lexie, are we good here?” he asks.

Sydney’s glare is nearly as invasive as Theo’s—if that’s even possible—and she’s absolutely screaming at me with her eyes to suck it the fuck up.

“Yes, of course,” I lie, feeling like a poisonous vapor is inching towards me, and I’m verging on suffocation. “Thank you so much for the opportunity.”

“I’m so excited!” Annabelle breaks the awkwardness. “Okay, what are the next steps?”

My face is blazing so hot right now, it no doubt matches my hair. “Before leaving, you’ll sign the official contract. I’ll email you my cell number, high-level instructions, and build a task schedule. Do you prefer I email daily, bi-weekly…” I continue to rattle off the usual onboarding information, having sat in many of Sydney’s meetings over the years, while making the firm decision that the moment they leave, I’m demanding Sydney assigns Justin as lead.

Theo checks his watch. “We need to head out.” We all stand and Theo reaches to shake my hand. When his skin meets mine, the burn that travels through me makes me want to douse my arm in ice-cold holy water and expel the evil that’s penetrating my flesh. “It was wonderful meeting you, Lexie.”

Meeting me. Like it’s the first time. Like he didn’t decimate everything good in my world and alter the trajectory of my life.

Sydney pushes herself from the table. “I’ll walk you two out,” she says. “Lexie, could you meet me in my office?”

Normally, Sydney would ask me to escort the clients out, but she’s clearly using this moment to reinforce who’s in charge. This time, I’ll happily let it go to avoid spending another second in Theo’s stifling company.

The moment they step outside the door, I plant my sweaty palms against the conference table and exhale rattled breaths. Of all the event planning agencies in the city, why did Theo have to choose this one?

In slow counts of four, I breathe in and out, and flicker back to the last time I saw him, to the way his dimples deepened with his evil sinister smile when he pulled the rug from under my feet. I hate myself for the crush I carried on him for a year. For lusting, chasing after him like a child trying to capture their shadow, when he didn’t even notice me until he ruined my life. Me, the sad girl from Queens who held her breath when he walked into his father’s office, who couldn’t focus on her studies as he moved through the world like it already belonged to him. Me, who latched on to every single word he spoke like the syllables themselves were precious relics.

When Theo visited his father’s office, I wanted him to notice me and tried to prove I was worth his attention—smart enough, interesting enough. If I asked the right questions, maybe he’d see me. Instead, he’d leave as soon as I started talking, like I wasn’t even worth his time.