Vote Then Read: Volume I

by Carly Phillips

  I’m going to do what I should’ve done six hours ago. I just hope it’s not too late.

  Grabbing my phone, I call for reinforcements. When she picks up, I don’t even bother with pleasantries. “Do you still have those security tapes we saved on that flash drive for a rainy day?”

  “Of course,” Lollie clips, as if offended I’d have to ask. “Why?”

  “Email them to me.”

  “Why?” she repeats, a slight edge in her tone.

  “Because there’s about to be a fucking tsunami.”

  Threatening Gloria Hammerle ended up being the highlight of my year. No, I take that back. Watching her cave under pressure and dissolve into a bucket of tears at my feet was the highlight of my year. Threatening her just felt fucking fantastic.

  After spending the better part of a decade as the Hammerle housekeeper, Lollie had made friends with the gardener, the chef, the maintenance workers, and most importantly, the head of security. Not surprisingly, they all loathed Gloria as much as we did and took great pleasure in passing along security tapes of every sordid sexual escapade she had on the grounds. Lollie kept them all on a backup file, calling them her little insurance policy for a rainy day.

  As I ran out of the Trash and Payne gala without an explanation or a goodbye to anyone, I heard Gloria threaten to have Niall fired and Sophie thrown out of Ravenhill. The floods were rising, and I had to act quickly. Convincing Lollie to be my partner in crime wasn’t hard. She’d been waiting for a moment like this and gleefully emailed me every pornographic detail that was now burned into my retinas for all of eternity.

  With the blackmail in my hand, it was almost poetic to have Gloria meet me at the same park where I’d first met Niall. The perfect place for justice to be served.

  Once I showed her the footage, she folded like a cheap house of cards. Gone was the bravado of Lady Hammerle, her nose stuck so high in the air she could trip over a pebble and break her neck. What was left of her sat on a bench in Central Park in a velour track suit with mascara running down her face, begging me not to send the file to her husband.

  Apparently, there was a prenup involved, and that prenup included a cheating clause.

  Do you see the shit-eating grin on my face? Just wait, it gets better.

  With a written agreement—because I’m not a moron—Gloria agreed to leave Niall and Sophie alone and to step down from the board of directors of Trask and Payne. I also made sure she gave me visitation rights with Preston.

  Didn’t think I had that kind of power, did you? Me either.

  Apparently, when someone’s bare ass is on the line—and the pool table, and the chaise lounge, and the kitchen island—a shift of power can happen in the grunt of an orgasm.

  Now, half an hour after Gloria ran off in a sniveling tirade of tears, I’m still here. I’m still sitting on a bench in Heckscher Playground, staring at the same slide where two unsupervised children started a chain of events that has landed me right back in the same spot. Only this time, I’m alone, and the only thing that’s unsupervised is my life.

  My hands shake as I type out the text I swore I wouldn’t send. Twenty-eight days. That’s all our pretend engagement was supposed to last in their eyes. For four weeks, Niall and I met at this same spot and built something that neither of us expected or wanted.

  One promise unfulfilled.

  Staring at the ring that’s still on my hand, I give it a twirl and hit send.

  So, I’m here at the park. Obviously, you’re not. It’s 2:00 p.m. on Sunday, and I’m banking on the fact that you’re a creature of habit. Don’t let me down.

  4:00 p.m.

  Two hours. Wow. You sure like to make a grand entrance, huh?

  6:00 p.m.

  Okay, if you insist. I forgive you.

  Yeah, that one is a stretch. I admit it.

  Waiting for him is hopeless. I knew that the minute I sat down. But four hours later, here I am, watching every person who walks by, praying that by some twist of fate he’ll decide to forgive me and show up for our standing Sunday date at Central Park.

  I shouldn’t be shocked I’m alone. It’s not like he’s given me anything but radio silence since last night.

  I don’t know what I’d hoped for. Maybe a Hail Mary? An olive branch? A miracle? I feel like screaming while pulling my hair out and then crying until I give up. A stabbing pain radiates from my chest as I glance down at my phone again, my hope fading as I send one last text.

  I still have your ring. If you won’t talk to me, at least give Vince my number so I can arrange for him to return it to you safely.

  7:30 p.m.

  For what it’s worth, despite everything, I fell in love with chocolate ice cream. More than you’ll ever know.

  One of my favorite movies is Never Been Kissed. It’s one of those “come from behind” chick flicks where the heroine has a secret hidden agenda the whole movie. She goes undercover and pretends to be a high school student to get the digs on a teacher who has the hots for her. Gross, right? Only she ends up falling for him and fucks it all up.

  Kind of like I did. Except after the heroine’s disastrous reveal, the hero realizes he’s in love with her and blah, blah, blah, her heart was truly in the right place. He shows up at the very last minute, right as all seems lost, and sweeps her into a passionate kiss while someone starts a slow clap in the background, and everything ends with some uplifting music.

  Well, reality check. Real life is no rom com, and there’s no happily ever after for me.

  As I pack up, I lift my hand, letting the sun sparkle through the brilliant stone on my hand one more time before I slip it off. Life doesn’t end up like it does in the movies.

  No matter how hard you try to do the right thing.

  We are pleased to offer you an internship with Trask & Payne Enterprises. We are impressed with your skills and are confident your qualifications are well-suited to our immediate needs. Enclosed you will find a Trask & Payne welcome packet as well as information pertaining to your start date and division assignment. Welcome aboard.

  I could say that two weeks later, I held the sixth letter from Trask and Payne in my hands—the golden ticket, the one—and it’s as sweet as I imagined it’d be.

  I could say that, but I’d be a fucking liar.

  It’s bittersweet. I don’t feel the euphoria of finally landing the job of my dreams. Maybe because it cost me everything. Yes, I managed to secure the internship on my own, and I guess that’s something to be proud of. However, I’ll never be proud of the pain I caused, and especially the look of disappointment in Niall’s eyes. I’ll never recover from that for as long as I live.

  Getting dressed for my first day on the job should be monumental. It should be like the first day of high school, where you can hardly sleep. Where you get up way before the alarm clock goes off, just so you can pick out the perfect outfit to start the final leg of your adolescence. Instead, I slept through my alarm, barely made it in the shower, and pulled out the least wrinkled business suit I could find from my closet.

  Grabbing a disposable coffee cup, I fill it to the rim and make my way toward my new office building when my phone rings. My heart skips a beat, and for a moment I pretend it’s Niall calling to forgive me for everything. But the minute I glance at the caller ID, my stomach falls to my feet and that one spark of hope returns to a black void.

  Keeping my head down, I make my way toward Madison Avenue and answer with a forced a cheerfulness I don’t feel. “Are you ready to jump ship and come be my assistant?”

  “Funny, girl. You are an assistant.”

  “That shows how much you know. Assistants can have assistants these days. Welcome to the new corporate America.”

  Lollie laughs as I weave my way through the throngs of pedestrians on their way to work in midtown Manhattan. “I just called to wish you luck. How does it feel to finally get everything you’ve ever wanted in life?”

  “Not at all like I expected.”

 
“I know,” she says quietly. After spilling my guts to her about the disaster which shall not be named, Lollie and I came an understanding. I don’t speak of it and neither does she. It’s better that way. I need to move on with my life and stay focused. Living in the past and wallowing in a river of what-ifs will only drown me.

  “How’s my little dude?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

  “Missing you. He still talks about you all the time.”

  “I miss him too.”

  After Gloria fired me on the spot, she refused to let me see Preston. Besides Lollie, I was one of the only constants in his life, and it broke my heart to know he thought I’d abandoned him. Luckily, my little chat with Gloria in the park cured that. Although with the demands of my new job, I won’t get to see him nearly as often as I’d like. I know what it feels like to be abandoned. I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

  “He keeps asking about the wedding, you know.”

  I rub my forehead, creases wrinkling under my fingers. “Wedding?”

  “The one his mother announced at the gala. He told me all about it. He says you and Niall are getting married. He’s been practicing walking you and Sophie down the aisle in front of all the mirrors in the house.”

  I should’ve seen this coming. I should’ve realized Niall and I tangled two innocent lives in our web of deceit. During our planning and fake courtship, Sophie and Preston had forged a real friendship. Not the fake kind Niall and I forced, but one based on innocence and honesty.

  “The ceremony might get a little awkward when the groom doesn’t show up.” I manage a dry laugh and cross the street to my new office building. “He hasn’t returned my calls for weeks, Lollie. It’s over. I blew it.”

  “I refuse to believe that.”

  “You’re a hopeless romantic, you know that?”

  “So are you.”

  “I used to be, but I’ve decided that stuff’s not for me anymore. I’m over them.”

  “You’re right. I mean, those kind of movie kisses and happily ever afters don’t happen in real life. Especially like that dumb kissing scene in The Notebook, which is the worst movie of all time.”

  “Oh my God, shut up!” I yell as I open the door to the massive skyscraper. “The Notebook is the greatest love story of all time. That kiss? Holy shit, that’s the greatest kiss in movie history, Lollie, what’s wrong with you? The thunder? The rain? The boat? Are you kidding me? They’re all wet and he tells her it’ll never be over. She goes to scream at him, and then he shuts her up with a kiss! No happily ever after trumps a shut-up kiss.”

  A few beats of silence pass before I hear her smugness through the line. “Told you—hopeless romantic.”

  Letting out a frustrated scream, I pull the phone away and yell into the mouthpiece. “I’m hanging up on you now.”

  As I make my way to the elevators, I make a mental note to throw out all my copies of The Notebook when I get home.

  I’m single-handedly keeping Starbucks in business.

  Two weeks into my internship and I think I’m about to break a record for the most hours worked. I’m not kidding. Beyond my classes and homework, I live, eat, and breathe Trask and Payne. I’m the first one in the office on Monday morning and the last one to leave on Friday night. Sometimes Vince and I even work on Saturdays.

  Yes, I said Vince. I’m personal assistant to Vincent Tribiotti. Don’t get any ideas. We’re strictly professional. I know he has a reputation, and trust me, I’ve seen it in action a few times. However, Vince has been nothing but courteous to me. Maybe it’s because he respects me. Maybe it’s because I was fake engaged to his best friend for four weeks.

  Who knows?

  At least he has the decency to never mention Niall, and for the most part, I haven’t had to deal with seeing my former betrothed around the office. Usually, Niall’s job keeps him on location and in the public eye. Vince and I work behind the scenes on projects, and that’s just fine with me. I don’t need any reminders of what I lost.

  “I need projections for the Halpert account, Laken,” Vince says, taking the double espresso I brought for him on my morning coffee run. “I need them bound in a report along with graphs—pie, bar, line, all that shit. I need it all.”

  My brows rise. “By one o’clock? Are you serious?”

  “Come on, Laken. You’re resourceful. You can do this. If we’re going to save this account, I need you with me.” Stopping in the middle of the breakroom hallway, he settles a hand on each of my shoulders and holds my stare. “Are you with me?”

  “I’m with you. I’m with you.” I nod emphatically while wondering when the hell I’ll have time to breathe, much less get all this done before noon.

  With ten minutes to spare, I close fifteen folders and pack them up, ready to make Vince shine in the meeting. I’ve done my job, and hopefully I’ll be able to ride his coattails far enough for someone to notice me. Getting noticed is all it takes around here, and then you’re gold.

  I follow Vince into the meeting and take my seat beside him. He gives my hand a pat before standing and addressing the Halpert delegates.

  “As you know, we’ve worked on your account for many years, and while our relationship has always been a mutually beneficial one, we think it’s time to shake things up a bit.” Moving stealthily from chair to chair, Vince charms everyone, and I smile. For all of his faults, the man can work a room like nobody’s business.

  “Shake things up how?” a Halpert representative asks.

  “I’m glad you asked, Joel.” Vince throws his hands out and mimics a big screen. “I’m thinking a larger scale marketing campaign like no one has ever seen before. With the help of my amazing assistant,” he lays a heavy hand on my shoulder, “and artwork by a photographer who will blow you away with his eye for detail, we’re going to take the market by storm.”

  If you’ve made it this far in the story, you know where this is going, right? I’m glad you do, because my dumb ass just sits there grinning like a cat on Quaaludes while Vince works his magic.

  I thought I’d turned a corner, but shit never goes like it’s supposed to go. That’s not life, and it sure as hell isn’t mine. Know why? Because karma is a bitch, and she’s dressed in thigh high fuck-me boots as she walks tall and proud behind him. The man who strolls into the meeting five minutes late and flips my world upside down.

  “Sorry I’m late, everyone. I had to drop my daughter off at school. Traffic was a bleedin’ nightmare.”

  I stop breathing. The visceral reaction from just hearing his voice tears me to shreds. I will myself not to look at him, but my eyes refuse to listen and take him all in. He looks even better than I remember. The navy blue suit he wears hugs him in all the right places, and his crisp white shirt presses against his hard chest as his red power tie dominates the room.

  I manage a smile, and he returns it with a scowl. My stomach twists until I realize Vince still has his hand resting on my shoulder, and that’s exactly where Niall’s eyes are glued. I think about shrugging Vince’s hand off, but at least I’m getting some kind of reaction out of Niall, and the heat in his eyes is just too tempting to pass up.

  I know I’m walking a fine line here. Smoke and mirrors are exactly what got us into this mess in the first place. However, what do I have to lose?

  Smiling, I pat Vince’s hand and settle deeper into my seat as the sound of a pencil snapping fills the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I glance over and see Niall tossing the two halves onto the table and then running his hands over his face.

  Game on.

  Again.

  We file out of the conference room with Vince high-fiving every manager and executive at Halpert like it’s a pep rally, when I feel a hand grab my elbow.

  “Quiet,” Niall mumbles in my ear.

  I stumble behind him as he drags me down the hallway and through the breakroom, his pace unrelenting and his grip hard. All the color is gone from his eyes, leaving only a dominating black stare. I don’t
know what I’m in for as he drags me into a cramped supply closet, but by the predatory look on his face, it’s not an apology.

  I take a step backward and raise my palm in an attempt to ward off his tirade. “Niall, please don’t start—”

  Slamming the door, he spins me around and backs me against a wall of shelves stocked with office supplies. As my back crashes into the ledges, our lips clash, and it’s not gentle. It’s hurried and frantic and about as romantic as you’d think making out in a supply closet would be. But holy fuck, it’s hot. Immediately, my hands go to his waistband and jerk his shirt out from the confines of his belt before diving under it and touching his hard chest.

  Fuck, I’ve missed this chest.

  I can barely breathe as he kisses me on my lips, my face, my neck, my hair, anything he can reach. His tongue is tasting, and I’m about to lose my mind. My head drops back, and I whimper as Niall groans and pulls my jacket off my shoulders. Unbuttoning the first few buttons on my dress, he jerks the lace of my bra down and trails a heated path from my chin to my breast. The minute his tongue scrapes over my overly-sensitized nipple, I let out a moan that I’m certain can be heard all the way to the breakroom.

  This is it. I’m going to die right here in this closet, all because I crave his touch. I’ll give up everything for it. Even the one thing I risked it for in the first place. Unable to stop myself, I reach between our bodies and cup him, my blood boiling as his teeth graze the tip of my nipple.

  “Turn around and spread your legs,” he commands hotly, pulling back and licking his lips.

  Just the sound of his voice almost makes me come on the spot, but I manage to lift my head and stare at him with an open mouth. “We can’t. Niall, someone will hear us. I just started this job,” I halfway protest, but I’m already curling my fist around the shelf in preparation of his onslaught. “I can’t…shit, I can’t get fired already.”