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She shrugs. “Today was the last day of our presentations anyway. It’s out of our hands now.”
“There are going to be other ideas that need Creators’ input.”
She holds her chin up. “That’s no longer my business.”
“Zahra—”
She holds up her hand, stopping me. “Why did you hire me?”
I don’t blink. “Because you’re good at what you do. Today is a perfect example of how talented you are. Imagine what else we could do if you—”
I can practically see her walls dropping one by one. Her entire demeanor changes, from her shoulders slumping to her eyes clouding.
“Why couldn’t you leave me alone?” Her voice cracks. “Why did you have to manipulate my feelings for you?”
I take a deep inhale of breath. “What?”
She looks away, hiding the mistiness of her gaze from me. “Did you hire me as a Creator because you wanted me to become emotionally invested in the project before your grandfather’s vote?”
Vote? No fucking way.
“Vote?”
Her tiny fists tighten. “I was chosen for Brady’s committee, but I’m sure you already knew that. Didn’t you?”
Zahra is on the committee? This has to be some kind of sick cosmic joke. Out of all the people my grandfather could have picked, he choseher?
All the pieces connect. In my letter, he had mentioned meeting someone at Dreamland who helped him realize his mistakes. I don’t know how I didn’t think about it being Zahra sooner. Grandpa wasn’t the kind of person who met with random employees, yet he discussed Nebula Land with her. He even helped her redesign it. His damn note on her file was the biggest breadcrumb of all, and I completely overlooked it.
Shit.And the way she looks at me—it’s like she doesn’t recognize me. It pierces through my damn heart.
I fucked up. Big time.
“Was any of it real?” Her voice cracks.
“Of course it was.” I reach out to cup her cheek, but she takes a step backward.
It sucks a whole lot.
“I never knew about you being chosen for the vote,” I say.
“And what, I’m supposed to believe anything that comes out of your mouth? All you’ve done is lie or tell half-truths ever since we met.” Her laugh sounds so hollow and unlike her that it makes my chest ache.
Instead of asking Zahra to stay at Dreamland and work for me, I now have to convince her that I never knew this was his plan.
Good luck with that.“You have to believe me on this. I knew a vote would happen—that much is true—but I had no idea who my grandfather would pick.”
She shakes her head. “It doesn’t matter what you say. I can’t trust you.”
I grab her hand and place it against my chest. The heat of her palm adds to the spreading warmth through my chest. “I swear I’m not lying. I know I might have hidden some truths and lied to you in the past”—she flinches at my words—“but I would never use you for something like a vote. I’m better than that.”
She rips her hand out of my grasp. “That’s the thing, Rowan. I think youthinkyou’re better than that, but from everything I’ve seen, I have no reason to believe you’re anything but selfish. You choose to think about one person and one person only—and that’s yourself.”
Her words slice away at me, making my breathing difficult. She looks at me with a pinched expression, and I’ve seen that kind of gaze enough times in my father’s eyes to label it as disgust. It hurts far more this time, knowing it’s from Zahra.
She walks around me to grab her belongings. “I’m quitting because I have no interest in working for you or your company anymore. I want to work for a place that wants to make a real difference in people’s lives because they care, and your company isn’t it.”
She exits the room, leaving me with nothing but the lingering smell of her perfume and the memory of her teary eyes looking at me with nothing but hate.
