Page 9 of Broken Vows

And yet, I kept chasing.

During every shift I worked at the campus coffee shop, I’d take espresso orders and scan the line of students, praying for Theo to come in, imprisoning my hopes inside his dirty chai tea order. I’d take the miniscule seconds of our interaction, no more than the scraps he gave everyone else, and balloon them in my mind. I’d fantasize that he went home and thought about me the way I thought about him.

Pathetic, that girl. I want to shake my nineteen-year-old self.

My head pounds and I dig my thumbs into my temples. I storm down to Sydney’s office and she enters a moment later.

“You good?” she asks as she slides into her leather chair. “You didn’t look great in there. Do you need to go home? Maybe you are actually coming down with something.”

A small piece of me wants to open up and tell Sydney everything that happened in Boston, but I can’t. I thought I’d buried the shame but clearly didn’t. “I can’t be the lead on this account.”

She pulls her ruby-red lips into a flat line and exhales through her nose. “Listen. I know this isn’t ideal. Did I think the meeting would go this way? Of course not. But they’ve asked for you and it’s the biggest client we’ve ever had. But, you won’t be alone. I’ll be here to support you the entire way. You can lean on me for absolutely anything.” She inches forward. “You’ve got this, Lexie. I believe in you.”

As warm as those words are, I shake my head. “You don’t understand. I just…” Shit. How do I not come off incompetent and inexperienced, while still rejecting this job? “I can’t.”

“You can.” She straightens. “And you will.”

The words are sharp, and I’m sure as neutral as I’m trying to keep my face, it’s betraying me. I’m about to pull out my employee trump card—the right to refuse service for a client—when she drums her fingers against the desk. “These are not the type of people we can turn down. If they asked you to be the entertainment, we’d get you some singing lessons and put your ass on stage. These are the Barlowes. Something like this can make or break a business. You understand this, right? There is no saying no.”

Her deep blue eyes narrow and my gut sinks. She’s not letting me out of this.

But I can’t.

A moment passes, then another, when she takes a sharp breath. “If you complete this wedding the way I know you can, you’ll get the raise we’ve been talking about.”

My heartbeat kicks up. I’m thrilled, of course, but if I’m going to be forced to work with Theo for the next six months, a standard salary bump alone won’t cut it. “They requested me as lead.”

“Well, sure, on this one project.”

“If you’re trusting me to lead the biggest-budget and highest-profile wedding in our company’s history, you have to trust me to do this for others.” Stay strong, stay strong. Do not fold.

“But, I’d have to work with the investors for approval, run some numbers, review staff assignments…”

I love Sydney. I really do. But right now, she’s full of shit, and today I have no fucks left. “I have no interest in being a temporary lead. If I’m lead on this one, then I’m lead on all. Or keep me as an assistant.”

I may sound confident right now, but my knees are quivering so bad they feel like they’re going to spasm. No matter, though, I’ll sit here all day until she decides. Her hands are tied, and even though I wish she would’ve promoted me on her own, I’ll take this almost any way I can.

The longest moment of my life happens as she looks at me, at the ceiling, and then back at me. “Deal. You take charge of this wedding and you’ll be an official lead at the company.”

And now my heart has certifiably grown wings and is flying outside of my body. Yes, my ego wants the title. But my livelihood, my mother’s livelihood, wants the money. This promotion comes with a thirty percent salary increase. Thirty. Percent. This money will pay for my mom’s rent, allow her to go part-time, help heal her body and mind from years of hard labor and the disrespect she encounters while catering to the elite.

And all I have to do is sell my soul to the devil for six months.

“Thank you,” I say, ignoring the tightening in my gut.

She slides her frames back up her nose. “First order of business. Can you please clean up the conference room while I send this contract to legal?”

Not exactly lead duties, but I’m not pushing my luck. I make my way down the hall. Just six months. I can do this. I’ll focus on the end goal, treat Theo like any other client, and swallow the last bit of my pride that he doesn’t remember me.

Binders, mood boards, snacks and files are scattered across the table. I gather a few books and start shelving when I hear the door click open. “Hey, I’m heading on a coffee run,” Justin says, poking his head in the door. “You want your mocha?”

“Only if they’ll put vodka in it.” I reach for the cardstock and stuff it into a folder. “No, I’m good, thanks. Honestly, I just need some time to myself.”

“Gotcha,” he says. “So leave the door open and tell everyone to come ask you a ton of questions about the power couple. On it.”

I hurl a pen at the door, but he slips out and shuts it before it connects. I grab a few folders and crouch to file them away in the cabinet when the door opens again. “Jesus Christ, dude, do you ever listen? What part of I need quiet time is hard to understand?”

“Is this how you speak to all your clients?”