My heart pounded painfully as I entered the building, but anxiety melted into confusion when I arrived at Kensington PR and found Jillian and several junior publicists crowded outside Sloane’s office, their ears literally pressed to the door.
“What…?”
“Shh.” Jillian placed a finger over her mouth. Perry, she mouthed.
Oh, fuck.
I came up beside her and snuck a peek through the window. Sloane hadn’t fully closed her blinds, revealing a glimpse of the drama unfolding inside.
Perry Wilson, the gossip guru himself, gesticulated wildly. It was only the second time I’d seen him in person, and once again, I was struck by how ordinary he looked.
Signature blond highlights and pink bow tie aside, he could’ve passed for any random man I passed on the street. He couldn’t be taller than five-five or five-six, his scrawny frame squeezed into a blazer and jeans. For someone with so much bravado behind the keyboard, he was awfully small in person.
His voice, however, was loud enough to bleed through the door. “I know it was you. You’re the one who planted those false tips for me.”
Sloane sat behind her desk, observing him with a bored expression. “Perry, darling, I have no idea what you’re talking about. I’m a publicist with legitimate business concerns. I don’t have time to engage in the type of subterfuge you’re accusing me of.” She tapped her phone. “You’re already being sued for libel. Don’t add slander to the mix.”
Perry’s face turned the same color as his tie. “I have eyes and ears everywhere, Sloane. They told me Tilly overhead you discussing the affair at the Russos’ holiday party. Now Soraya’s stupid minions have gotten me banned from social media, and that libel suit is bullshit.”
“Good. Then you shouldn’t be concerned about it,” Sloane said. “As for your eyes and ears, perhaps they should’ve factchecked for you before you uploaded that post. This is the twenty-first century, Perry. If you can’t handle a twenty-two-year-old and her fans, you might want to switch careers. I hear Fast and Furriness is looking for a new copywriter.”
Perry quaked with indignation. “You won’t get away with this.”
“Please, spare me the cliché villain lines.” Sloane sighed. “I have clients to attend to, and you have advertisers to appease before they all flee your sinking ship.”
The blogger was so furious his voice dropped to near inaudible levels, and I only heard snippets of what he said next.
Bitch…check in with your star client…not talking about the one you’re fucking.
Jillian and the other publicists scattered from the door. A minute later, Perry stormed out in a tornado of pink and cologne. “Hey, man.” I clapped my hand on his shoulder hard enough to make him stumble as he passed. “Sorry to hear about your troubles. Good luck at Fast and Furriness.”
Perry squawked with outrage but was smart enough not to confront me physically. He stomped toward the elevator, looking not unlike a child throwing a temper tantrum, and I couldn’t believe this was the man who’d caused so many powerful people so much distress over the years.
It was like peeking behind the curtain and seeing the real Wizard of Oz. Disappointing.
Jillian giggled and didn’t stop me when I walked into Sloane’s office and closed the door behind me.
With Perry gone, the stiffness eased from her shoulders, but they tightened again when she saw me.
Sloane was obviously exhausted, but even with faint purple smudges beneath her eyes and lines of tension bracketing her mouth, she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. It had nothing to do with her looks and everything to do with who she was.
Smart, fierce, and so damn mine.
I should’ve recognized it sooner, and I would wait forever until she did too.
“So, Perry’s really done, huh?” I asked.
It was odd to talk about something as banal as Perry when the devastation from last night’s conversation hadn’t fully settled. The wreckage floated around us, each shard a silent reminder of what was at stake.
However, jumping right into the reason I was here would be a surefire way to make Sloane shut down. I needed to ease into things, and honestly, I’d take any excuse to talk to her again, no matter the topic.
“For now, but people like him always find a way to survive.” Sloane tapped her pen against her desk, her eyes wary. “We don’t have a meeting scheduled for today.”
“No, we don’t.”
Tap. Tap. Tap.
The nervous rhythm mirrored the tension dripping in the air. It was so potent I could taste it in the back of my throat, and while I wanted nothing more than to grab her and kiss the hell out of her, I had to be smart about this.
I had one last chance, and I wasn’t going to fuck it up. Sloane’s throat bobbed with a swallow. “Xavier…”
“Don’t worry. I didn’t come to make a scene.” I pushed my hands into my pockets and fisted them to keep myself from reaching for her. “I came to tell you three things. One, I met with Alex this morning about the fire. He said it was sabotage.”
The tapping stopped. I could practically see the wheels in her head spinning as she processed this bit of information. “Sabotage. By who?”
“Still unclear.” I summarized the meeting for her. “It’s Alex, so he’ll figure it out and put in safeguards to ensure something similar doesn’t happen again while I repair the club.”
Sloane stilled, her eyes flaring with surprise and a wary hope that poured fresh fuel into mine. Hope meant she still cared, and if she still cared, that meant an infinitesimally larger chance of winning my upcoming gamble.
“That’s the second thing,” I said more quietly. “I’m going ahead with the Vault. You and Alex were both right, and I don’t care if I pass the deadline and don’t get my inheritance. That’s no longer what the club is about. I just needed a kick in the ass to realize it.” A sardonic smile crossed my mouth. “Or two.”
Sloane’s gaze flickered with another emotion I couldn’t name before she slammed a steel gate over it. “Good. There’s no use wasting the effort you’ve already put into it.”
“Final thing.” I took a step closer, my eyes trained on hers.
“Our trial period doesn’t end until tomorrow, which means we’re not over yet. Not officially.”
Sloane’s grip on her pen tightened. “I already made my decision.”
“It doesn’t count when there’s still time to change your mind.”
Her mouth quivered for a split second before flattening into a straight line. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Pain laced her voice, and that was enough to spur me on. I hated seeing her hurt, but if that meant I was getting through to her, I would bear it.
“I’ll make it as hard as I can,” I said fiercely. “I love you, Sloane, and if you think I’m letting you go that easily, you’re mistaken. I’ve spent half my life running from the hard stuff and taking the easy way out because I’d never wanted anything enough to work for it.” I swallowed. “Then I met you, and I finally understood what people meant when they said love is worth fighting for. I know it sounds like a cliché, and if you heard this in a movie, you’d probably write a scathing review about it”—Sloane choked out a laugh—“but I mean it. I’ve learned to fight for what’s important, and there’s nothing in this world that’s more important to me than you. Not the club, not my inheritance, not my reputation.”
I took another step closer, desperate to touch her but knowing I couldn’t.
“I know you’re afraid,” I said. “Hell, I am too. I’ve never been in love, and I’ve never wanted to be in love. I have no idea what people do in these situations, which is probably why I’m here, making an ass of myself.” A hint of self-deprecation slipped into my voice. “If you truly don’t feel anything for me, then I accept that.” Even if it kills me. “But if you do, even the tiniest bit, then don’t do what I used to do. Don’t run away from what could be because you’re afraid of what might be.”
It was blunt, but Sloane had always responded best to directness. It was one of the many things I loved about her.
“I won’t lie and say I know what our future looks like. No one does. But I do know that whatever happens, we’ll figure it together,” I said softly. “We always do.”
Sloane didn’t move, didn’t speak, but her eyes shone with suspicious brightness.
I took a deep breath and braced myself for what I was about to say. “Tomorrow, top of the Empire State Building. Meet me at midnight.” That was when our trial period officially expired. “If you don’t show…” I swallowed past the glass shards in my throat. “I’ll know what your answer is, and I’ll never mention this again.” Sloane let out another watery-sounding laugh. “Are you Sleepless in Seattle-ing me?”
“Gossip Girl, actually. Doris was a big fan,” I said with a fleeting smile. Then my face sobered, and my voice softened into something more tender. “I know you think happily ever afters are unrealistic, Luna, but they don’t have to be. You just have to believe in them enough for yourself.”
She didn’t respond. I hadn’t expected her to, but when I walked out, my heart knotted in my throat, I couldn’t help but second guess my strategy.
I’d taken a huge gamble by giving Sloane an ultimatum, but we were the same in as many ways as we were different. She needed that push.
I just hoped that in doing so, I hadn’t made the worst mistake of my life.
Sloane
Icouldn’t stop checking the time.
It was one in the afternoon; there were eleven hours until my trial period with Xavier expired, but the looming deadline killed my appetite as I pushed my salad around my plate.
If you don’t show up, I’ll know what your answer is, and I’ll never mention this again.
The end of our relationship aside, what would happen if I didn’t show up? Would we stop working together? Would I never see him again? Would the past two months disappear into the past like they’d never happened?
I should be happy about that. That was what I wanted, but if that were the case, why did I feel nauseous?
The few forkfuls I’d forced down earlier churned in my stomach. Cutting all ties with Xavier would be the smartest thing to do. We couldn’t return to our old working relationship when I knew how his lips tasted, and how he felt inside me, and how he held me like—
“Hellooo. Earth to Sloane.” Isabella waved her hand in front of my face, severing my spiraling thoughts. “Where are you?”
“Sorry.” I attempted another bite of food. It tasted like cardboard. “I was just thinking.”
“About tonight?” Alessandra’s eyes gleamed with knowing concern. “Have you decided what you’re going to do?”
I usually grabbed takeout for lunch on workdays, but I’d asked my friends to meet me at a proper restaurant because I needed their advice. I’d filled them in on Xavier’s ultimatum, and their reactions had run the gamut.
Isabella wanted me to meet him, no questions asked. Vivian said I should go with my heart, which wasn’t helpful, because my heart had a habit of making terrible choices. Alessandra was surprisingly neutral, but out of everyone at the table, she understood how important it was to make a decision on my own time, not anyone else’s.
The problem was, I didn’t have much time; I had hours at most.
“No.” I flicked a piece of walnut to the side; I’d forgotten to tell the server not to include them in my salad.
I didn’t know what dishes you like best, so I ordered a bit of everything. None with walnuts, though.
Unshed emotion crowded my throat. I hadn’t cried since last night, and I hadn’t told my friends about the tears. They weren’t relevant; they were a physical symptom, that was all.
I didn’t let myself examine what they were a physical symptom of. “I shouldn’t go. I’m not going to go,” I said with half-hearted conviction. “Meeting him would be stupid, right? We’ll break up eventually, and it’s better to rip the Band-Aid off now than later down the road.”
Isabella frowned, Alessandra quietly cut her chicken, and Vivian took a sip of her water without meeting my gaze.