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“Probably, but it doesn’t hurt to be clear.” He sighs and walks back over to his chair. “Lacey, I just want you to know what happened last night…well, at least what nearly happened.” He sighs and starts again. “I’m not in the habit of sleeping with my interns. Or anyone I work with, for that matter. In fact, I’m pedantic about not mixing work with my personal life. I just want to assure you that it won’t be happening again.”
I nod, my heart sinking. How disappointed I feel confuses me.
“Is that all?” I ask, getting to my feet. He nods, watching me closely as I walk to the door.
“Lacey?”
I turn around.
“Take the rest of the day off and go home and rest. You look like shit.”
“Thanks,” I mutter. I’m not sure if I should be grateful or insulted.
I stalk back to my desk to gather my things. My head is buzzing. I’m so confused right now and it scares me. If there’s one thing I have control over in my life, it’s knowing where I’m headed, but ever since starting this internship I’ve felt like I’m walking through the streets of a foreign country with no map. Maybe this whole thing was a bad idea. I’m starting to wish Professor Jameson hadn’t put my name forward. I regret ever meeting Aaron Wilmot. My life was so much easier before he came into it.
“You look like shit.”
I look up from the booth I’m sitting at and glare at Lucas. He smirks back as he slides into the booth opposite me. I’m starting to think that maybe I do look like shit.
“Thanks,” I mutter. “I’m hearing that a lot today. And it took you long enough to get here.”
“Be grateful I dropped everything to meet you.” He leans across the table and steals one of my fries. I shove the whole basket over to him. “So what’s up? Your boss working you too hard?”
“No, I just…” I sigh, realizing he’s in one of his moods. I don’t want to spill the whole story to Lucas, but how else is he going to understand? Either way, I can’t talk to him while he’s like this. “I’m just having a bad day. Work is getting to me,” I admit.
“Oh?” he says with interest. His eyes narrow. “Maybe you’re taking on too much?”
“Maybe,” I mumble. I don’t like his tone, but the last thing I need is to get into an argument with Lucas. I think about Ariel’s text. If something is wrong, then he’ll need his friends—whether he wants them or not. “How are you?”
“Me?” he asks. He shrugs his shoulders, his eyes growing dark. “We didn’t come here to talk about me, did we? You sounded pretty distressed when you called me. Now you want to talk about me?”
“Sorry, I’m just being nice,” I say with a frown. What’s with all this attitude? “What’s wrong with you? If you’re just going to snap at me then you might as well leave.”
“I’m sorry, Lace.” He meets my gaze and gives me a small smile. “I’m going through some shit too.”
“You want to talk about it?” I ask.
He shakes his head, so I leave it. Getting Lucas to open up is hard at the best of times. I’d have no hope at the moment. The best thing I can do is wait until he’s ready to tell me. If ever.
“So, are you going to tell me why you dragged me all the way over here? I was in the middle of a Suits marathon.”
“You hate that show,” I reply, amused.
“Yeah, I just wanted a reminder why I hate it so much,” he replies. “So?”
“We haven’t caught up in a while,” I finally say. “I miss you.”
His face softens and he reaches across the table for my hand. When his fingers entwine with mine, my heart begins to pound. I stare across at him, overcome with a sudden rush of emotion.
He’s got his own issues to work out. He doesn’t need me adding to them. So I suck it up and bury my problems and pretend there’s nothing wrong apart from being overworked.
Tossing my keys on the counter, I undress and make my way down to the bathroom. Ariel isn’t here, so I’ve got the place to myself and I intend on making the most of it. After a long soak in the bath and an entire bottle of red wine—something very out of character for me—I’m feeling much more relaxed as I sprawl out on the couch in my robe and nothing else.
It’s only three in the afternoon, so probably a little early to be tipsy, but after the week I’ve had, I don’t care. My phone rings. I pick it up and answer without checking the number.
“Lacey? Finally!” Mum’s voice comes out in a huff and I cringe. I curse the wine, blaming it for my sudden lapse in concentration. Never answer the phone without checking the number. That’s like the most important rule I have.
“Hi Mum,” I say.
