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Lydia’s eyes follow me around the room, and I realize that Carissa might be right. It won't take long before the entire office finds out about this little secret that Lydia has unraveled.
She approaches me anyway, and a thousand things run through my mind that she can possibly say.
“Sir, I made an appointment for that girl, Amy.”
“I was trying to get rid of her,” I interrupt, a little disappointed at her inability to understand secret codes.
She shrugs. “You said to give her anything she needs, and that project of hers, it seemed very important.”
“That is code for discharge, Lydia.” I sigh. “I have more important things to focus on right now.”
Lydia makes a face and chuckles.
“What?” I glare at her.
“Nothing,” she replies. “The poor girl has watched all of your interviews, read all autobiographies, company newsletters, every magazine page and blog post about the company.”
“What more does she want?” I mutter, then turn to Lydia. “Next time I say something like that, don't take it literally.”
“Okay.” She raises both hands in surrender and moves away.
I pick up a glass of champagne from a server’s tray and gulp down half of it. I can’t wait for the day to come to an end so that I can lay in bed and mourn losing Carissa all night.
As I watch her standing by herself in a corner occasionally taking a sip from her glass, it slowly begins to dawn on me that I may have lost her for real this time.
My mind begins to play back the day I made the bet with my friends and what I could have done differently. I can say it is just a silly game, but it has cost me my time with Carissa, and it hurts to be away from her more than I thought.
I was just driven by my ego. Otherwise, why else would I do something so awful?
Carissa won’t even look at me anymore. Not even a glance by mistake.
No one has ever avoided me this much. Not even my mom after I exposed her secret affair and robbed her of my dad’s wealth and love.
Not that she cared about the love anyway.
Chapter twenty-seven
CARISSA
The office is abuzz with its usual hum of activity as I walk in. But as soon as I make my way through the door, the room becomes absolutely quiet while everyone watches me as though to see my reaction.
Don't tell me Lydia couldn’t keep her mouth shut or keep a single promise.
My steps become calculated with the realization that my secret must now be in the open as I approach my desk. A large bouquet of dandelions sits right next to my computer. A small note nestled among the blooms catches my attention, and I pull it out to read.
“Please forgive me. I won't stop until I have another chance.”
Inwardly seething, I blush as I read the note.
A surge of emotions washes over me as I squeeze the note in my hand, without a care for the pairs of eyes that are watching me. My usually calm facade cracks, revealing a glimpse of raw emotion–fury mixed with hurt.
The audacity of Jayden’s gesture, as if it wasn’t enough that he made a show at my doorstep with large bouquets of flowers throughout the weekend.
My brows furrow in frustration, a mixture of anger and vulnerability flickering across my face as I pretend to scan the flowers, each petal a reminder of our unresolved conflict that I don't intend to resolve anytime soon. My hands tremble.
Despite the storm of emotions raging inside me, I remain calm outwardly, determined not to let my personal life interrupt my professional demeanor.
With a deep breath to steady myself, I arrange the flowers to the side, away from my workspace, concealing the turmoil that brews within my calm exterior.
