I groan. “I suspected as much.” Without taking my eyes off Pippa, I say, “Logan, change of plans. Drop any immediate meeting and go to my apartment. Bring me clothes to change.”
“Because I’
ve been downgraded from CFO to your personal butler?”
“Because you’re my brother, and I need to take care of something else while you bring me the clothes.”
I hear Logan stand up fast. “Okay, I had enough dick lines today. I’m on it.”
I give Logan the keys for my apartment, and then he leaves the office.
“You still must shower,” Pippa points out.
“There are showers down in Creation. I’ll use those. Meanwhile, is your prototyping guy here? I have a task for him.”
“Yeah, he is.” Pippa narrows her eyes. “I know that look. You’re planning something.”
“You’re damn right I am.”
Her eyes widen, and she drums her fingers on her cheeks, like she used to when we were kids and preparing mischief. Well, this will top all of them. “Tell me.”
“Nope. Payback for telling me that I stink. Twice. Even if it’s true.” I enjoy immensely seeing her grow more restless by the second. My sister’s never been one to accept there can be secrets between siblings. At any rate, I will have to tell her. I won’t pull it off on my own, but I can tease her a bit more.
“Come on, give me a hint at least.”
“What did you say earlier? It was a nice phrase. Oh yeah, I will put myself out there completely. And you will help.”
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ava
You know you’re a lost cause when even ice cream tastes like shit. It’s my favorite ice cream too: Ben and Jerry’s with almond and caramel. I eat it with a large spoon, sitting on the couch inside my apartment, watching some mindless reality show. There are packed boxes all around me.
My meeting with Dirk the Dick two days ago was a disaster. I didn’t manage to convince him to give in to even one single request: no bonus and no reference. After my disastrous encounter with him, I announced to my landlord I have to leave this apartment; thankfully he understood my situation.
I found a rat hole outside the city where I can live until I’m back on my feet without burning through my savings. Let’s hope I won’t get shot until that happens. I went to visit the place yesterday and it creeped me out. Then I came home and packed my stuff the entire night. I collapsed on the couch this morning, and now I can’t get up again. All my muscles are as sore as hell. The movers will be here in a few hours, which gives me plenty of time to wallow and obsessively check my e-mails. Dirk made me return my phone yesterday, since it was the company’s. I do have my laptop, and I didn’t get an e-mail from Sebastian. I bought a new phone, but he doesn’t have my new number, and I’m too much of a coward to call him.
When the reality show gets too mindless, I switch off the TV and focus my attention on my laptop, namely on the list with jobs I want to apply to. I have a game plan. It’s not perfect, but I’ll make it work. Dirk refuses to acknowledge my efforts—but the clients I’ve worked with won’t. They’ve all been thrilled with me.
I will call all of my clients, including Sebastian, and sweet talk them into letting me list them as references.
I let out a sigh at the thought of Sebastian. Dirk told me terrible things in his office. The old me would’ve been horrified at my actions, drowning in guilt over throwing my career away over a man—Dirk’s words. As I sat across from him, watching him, I couldn’t bring myself to feel one ounce of guilt about my relationship with Sebastian.
I felt more alive and happy with him than I’ve been in my entire life. My only regret is that it ended. Tears spring to my eyes, and I wipe them away quickly. I suppose that by leaving the way I did, I gave him an easy way out; and he took it, ripping my heart to shreds. I know I should call him using my new number, or write another email explaining everything, but I can’t bring myself to do it just yet. Biting the inside of my cheek, I resolve not to think about that right now. I still have things to do and organize, and I know thinking about Sebastian will be my undoing.
***
I’m about to open the second carton of ice cream when the bell rings. Frowning, I drag my feet to the door. Are the movers here early? I open the door without looking through the peephole. I really must break that habit; it might get me killed, or at the very least mugged, in the hellhole I’m moving to.
“Sebastian.”
“You look terrible,” he says.
For a few seconds, neither of us says anything, and then I burst out laughing. “I really need you to shower me with compliments today.”
I eye him, drinking him in as usual. Is it possible that it’s been just two days since I last saw him? It feels like an entire year has passed.
“Did you take any other shower?” He smiles lazily.