“Which girl?” I ask, knowing damn well which one he means.
“Hazel. Your assistant.”
“What happened?”
He glances away, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “She quit.”
I sit there and stare. “Quit?”
“Called up this morning. I guess my team’s number is still the only number she has.”
“Called this morning,” I echo, mind starting to reel. I came into this meeting holding all the cards, ready to destroy Declan, but this…
I’m off balance. I can feel it. I know this is going to get away from me but I don’t know how to stop that from happening.
Hazel is more important to me than anything else.
“I know you liked her,” Declan is saying distantly. “She seemed like a good worker, but you know how it is. They always leave you in the end.”
I gape at him. They always leave. I think back to my life, to everything I’ve lost.
I think back to Marla. To the baby she was carrying when the plane crashed.
Declan is saying something else as I get up from my chair, something about women being fickle and how sorry he is and how he’ll find a good replacement immediately, a man this time if that will work for me. I walk away from him, mug in my hand, staring out the window.
Hazel is leaving me. I don’t understand why, but then again, I think I do. She got what she needed. She got a house, presents, a fresh start.
And now she’s gone. Quitting.
I sip my coffee. It’s too hot. It burns my tongue.
I throw the mug at the window.
The mug shatters into pieces with a resounding boom. The window vibrates slightly and Declan stares at me, face aghast, eyes wide.
“That will be all,” I say to Declan.
“Mason, let me say—”
“Get the fuck out, Declan, before I treat your skull the way I just treated that mug.” I turn on him, my whole body rippling with anger.
That toad doesn’t need to be told twice. He gets up and scampers away.
I turn to my office. The memory of Hazel lingers in everything I can see. I can taste her on my tongue, feeling her on my lips. I remember spanking her, just over there, fucking her, just right there. We’ve laughed together, felt together, spent hours talking together.
Now she’s gone.
There’s a knock at the door. Rogers comes in, looking concerned. “Are you okay, sir?” he asks.
“Hazel,” I manage. “Declan… he says she quit.”
He frowns. “I can’t imagine—”
“Find her.” I look at Rogers. I’m practically begging the man, but I don’t care. “Find her, Rogers. Bring her back.”
He watches me for a moment, and I see understanding pass through him. “Very well, sir. Consider it done.”
“Thank you.”
He leaves my office. I stumble back to my chair, numbly sitting down. I pour another mug of coffee in the cup that Hazel usually uses. I sip from it, staring blankly at my office.
I can still see the demons. The old dreams. Chasing after a plane I’ll never catch.
Because I’m alive, and she isn’t.
They aren’t.
I clutch my mug. I need Hazel.
But she might be gone, and I might finally be lost for good.19HazelMy bright, shiny new townhouse feels more like a cave than a home.
I curl up on the couch and stare at the TV, but I don’t bother turning it on. I don’t think I could pay attention to it even if I did.
Declan is Mason’s number two. I know they’ve been having their issues lately, or at least Mason has been looking into some stuff, but he’s still running the company. If Declan just fired me, that means it had to come from Mason himself, or at least it’s sanctioned by Mason.
I don’t understand it. I thought we were moving beyond the whole employee-employer relationship and getting somewhere better. I thought that’s what all these gifts meant, this whole freaking house, everything. I thought it meant he wanted me to have a home with him, and maybe he’d come move in, too.
“What a naïve idiot,” I whisper to myself. How could I have thought that the most powerful man in the city, but also the most reclusive, would come live in this place? Even if it is decent now, it’s nothing compared to what he’s used to.
I’m nothing to him. I have to realize that. I’m just an employee, some girl he fucked and used and now is throwing away. He’s trying to bribe me with all these gifts. I bet this house is a way to buy my silence about him.
I feel so stupid. Tears roll down my cheeks but I’m not sobbing. I can barely move to sob. It’s like all the energy in my body has been sucked out of me and been replaced by embarrassment.
I really thought he wanted me.
I really, really thought it.
That whole thing was fake. It was all a lie. I think back to all the special things we did together, the sex and the touching and the commands, and it feels so forced and wrong now.