by Kathryn Moon
“Cute outfit,” Anna said, and I blushed and thanked her. Anna was kind of a queen in the office of eclectic fashion, and I had yet to gush at her about how much I loved her style.
It wasn’t until I turned and found Betty and Zane glaring daggers at me that confusion turned to worry.
“A Gunner Keen original,” Betty said, eyeing my dress with an arched eyebrow. “Present?”
I swallowed hard and tilted my head. “A little self-care splurge,” I lied.
“Did you get it yesterday playing hooky?” Zane asked, sneering slightly.
There was always an edge of cattiness dealing with Zane and Betty, but it’d seemed pretty harmless up until now. They were Queen B’s—not the buzzing kind of B—of the office, and to be honest, they were fashion people. We all had a little element of performance to us, an air of superiority that floated around the culture. But this was more direct. They’d turned their aim onto me and were firing careful shots, digging for something, and I had a pit in my stomach that told me exactly what it might be.
“No, I spent yesterday sleeping, pretty much,” I said. I’d emailed Cyrus for the sake of the lie, but he’d come armed to work with my excuse for staying home—a twenty-four-hour bug. I probably could’ve told the truth about what happened, but it would’ve taken a lot more lies to cover where I was for the weekend, and I’d been trying not to raise questions. So much for that plan.
Knuckles rapped on the doorway and I spun, relieved to put a pause on the conversation with Zane and Betty. Cyrus was waiting for us in the hall, giving us all a quick nod hello. An hour ago, I’d been laughing with him over coffee, Rake cozy between us. Things with Cyrus at the moment were somehow both more and less complicated than the others. We shared a lot of mutual staring and flirting, but there was also a hard line drawn between us, and I wasn’t sure if it was me working here at Designate or something else. It was a little bit of a relief. One less changing relationship to make my head spin.
“Hey, guys, we’ve got a lot of little details to nail down for this issue and some brainstorming for the next. Let’s have a quick chat in the conference room, and then we’ll come back to it this afternoon for serious talks,” Cyrus said.
I hurried to the hall, happy to put space between me and the others, but I hadn’t even made it to the conference room when Wendy’s assistant stopped me.
“Lola, Wendy’s hoping to have a quick word with you this morning,” he said.
“Oh, I…” I turned to check with Cyrus, hoping he might have some clue as to what was coming, but he was frowning at the assistant.
“Can it wait? I wanted a quick team meeting before we got started for the day,” Cyrus said.
“Now would be best.”
Cyrus shrugged at me. “It’s fine. The others will catch you up when you get back,” Cyrus said, with a half-smile.
“Right. Okay.” I started back for the elevators when Betty’s shoulder nudged against mine.
“Good luck, killer,” Betty hissed in my ear.
Fuck. Oh, fuck. The posturing from Zane and Betty. The stares from a random collection of people in the office? I tried to remember names to the faces, but I was still new. All I knew was that Daze, Zane, and Betty were definitely on Wendy’s list of potential keeps. And if they were giving me the stink eye, and she was calling me up to her office…
Oh, fuck.
I’d been careful this weekend, not posting anything to social media about my trip with Leo. The only possible connection I could think of was that maybe someone had recognized Wes in the car outside as Rake’s alpha. Considering the way people tended to overlook him, it seemed unlikely, but I hadn’t exactly been hiding when I’d kissed him in the car.
No. No way. Word didn’t travel that fast, not even in the fashion world.
I wracked my brain on the elevator ride up to Wendy’s office, her assistant giving me a steady amount of side-eye. Flirtations with Rake during photoshoots. Or…the party. The night of the party at fashion week. I hadn’t known about the whole mess with Wendy at the time, and I’d made no effort to avoid the pack.
My heart was racing, hands clammy, and a steady ringing burned in my ears as I walked toward Wendy’s office. I wanted to believe this was nothing to do with the looks I’d been getting, that Wendy only needed to see me to offer some new confidence regarding her plans for Designate.
Confidence I would then pass on to Matthieu and Cyrus.
Yeah, no. I was fucked.
Wendy was busy on her tablet as I entered her office. I left sweaty palm prints on the metal back of the chair across from her, standing and waiting for her to acknowledge me. She made me squirm as she ignored me and I knew, knew she’d discovered my relationship with the pack.
Lie, I thought. Tell her I’d only met them the night of the party, that it’d just been a silly dance that Rake had talked me into.
Except when Wendy turned the tablet and slid it across the glass top to me, I knew that wasn’t going to fly.
“Can you explain this photograph to me?” Wendy asked.
That damn party. I hadn’t known at the time everything that would come next with the magazine, with Wendy, and I’d finally let my guard down around Leo’s pack.
It was a great photo actually, but I probably couldn’t ask Wendy for a copy. I was in the center of the photo, a blue light cast on my side, highlighted between Matthieu and Leo, Rake’s hunching form clear against mine. Caleb and Cyrus were in the background, a little blurry but I’m sure Wendy made them out no problem.
Lie, I told myself.
Except I really didn’t want to, regardless of what came next.
“That’s me dancing with my boyfriend and his pack the, um…Saturday night, end of fashion week,” I said, voice flat.
“You’re dating Rakim Oren,” Wendy sneered.
I opened my mouth to say ‘no’ and then shook myself. “I am now. At the time, I was only dating Leo.”
Wendy’s eyebrows jumped, and I had a strange kind of satisfaction at surprising her. “And now you’re with Rakim instead?”
“I’m with them both,” I said, pressing my lips together hard. And Matthieu. And Caleb, I guess. Oh, and Wes probably.
So. Fucked.
Wendy’s eyes narrowed. “So you’ve been involved with this pack long before I reached out.”
I nodded and held my breath.
“And in this situation, where would you say your loyalty is, Lola?” Wendy asked, every word bitten with the precise anger of an alpha, in the package of my beta boss.
“With Designate,” I said, and Wendy scoffed, pulling her tablet back and snapping it shut.
“Fine. I see. How much did you tell them?”
She didn’t have to say their names. We both knew. “Everything,” I said, cold running through my veins, a heavy acceptance for what would come next.
Wendy nodded in a jerky way, automatic and tense, and her hands fisted in front of her, knuckles going white. “Of course. Of course you did. Lola, am I your boss?”
So was Cyrus. So was Matthieu. “Yes,” I said.
“Not anymore,” Wendy said, just the flinch of a smug smile on her lips. “You’re fired, Lola Barnes. We’re over-staffed. Your position is redundant.”
I stared blankly back at her, my mind equally stunned by and prepared for the declaration. Could she do that? Probably. I might have grounds to fight back, but Wendy and I both knew I probably wouldn’t. Another question lingered at the back of my mind. What would happen when Matthieu found out?
“That will be all, Lola,” Wendy snapped. “HR will be in touch.”
I swallowed hard and turned my back on the woman, keeping my shoulders straight and my head high. I wasn’t ashamed of my actions. It might’ve been underhanded listening to Wendy’s offer and keeping my eye on her plans, but I had shown loyalty, and I’d made my decisions on what was best for Designate, not for Matthieu or Cyrus.
Wendy’s assistant avoided my eyes as I headed for the elevat
ors. Fuck, I had to do that whole, pack up your things thing. Except I didn’t really have things. I had my bag which was in the office, and that was basically it.
You just got fired from your dream job, idiot.
I got fired for trying to protect Designate.
I took slow, deep breaths for every step back to the office, eyes focused directly ahead of me. Either I was paranoid and imagining the feeling of eyes on me, or every one of Wendy’s two dozen allies were watching me retreat from her office. As certain as I was that I’d done the right thing, I still couldn’t shake the sea-sick queasy sensation in my stomach.
The Beauty Editing team was only just leaving the conference room, filing out one at a time with Betty and Zane in the lead. Their eyes glittered with delight at seeing me, and I resisted the urge to check my reflection on any available surface. Did I look devastated or numb? Who the hell knew, but Betty and Zane were clearly aware of the conversation I’d just left. I buried the spike of anger in my chest. They were living for the drama of the moment more than any actual injury I might’ve been suffering.
“There you are. The crew can catch you...” Cyrus’ words trailed off as he looked closer at me, a frown sinking over his face.
Corey and Anna headed into the office, but Zane and Betty were too riveted to the entertainment, dawdling by the doorway. I could ask them to leave us alone for a minute, but I could guess the kind of rumors that would start flying after my exit. That photograph probably hadn’t been kept a secret, and me having a whispered exchange with Cyrus would just add fuel to whatever fire I ignited on my way out.
“I’ve been fired. I need to grab my things and go,” I said, relieved at the steadiness in my voice.
“You’ve been what?” Cyrus hissed, stepping forward.
Betty’s satisfaction wobbled at the growl at the back of Cyrus’ throat, and she dragged Zane into the room with her, leaving Cyrus and me alone in the hall. For now.
“I’m redundant,” I said, and Cyrus’ outraged expression in response actually made me smile. I took a step toward him. “But really, it’s because she found out about me and the pack. I admitted to speaking with you and Matthieu,” I confessed in a whisper, low enough to stay between the two of us.
Cyrus blew out a long breath, his gaze narrowed over my head into the office where the others waited quietly. I thought I could hear Anna questioning my leaving, voice sharp with surprise.
“Okay. Hang on.” Cyrus shook his head. “No, we’re going to speak with—”
“Actually, I think I better just go,” I said. My hand found his arm when he opened his mouth to object, and I pulled it back just as quickly. “Obviously something is about to explode, and I think it’s better for everyone involved, myself included, if I’m not at the center of it.”
Cyrus winced and sighed, rolling his shoulders and nodding. “Okay, you’re right. Hey, wait. Call Wes, okay? He’ll get you back to the house.”
I shook my head, I could find my way back, even with a cab. But Cyrus gave me a hard look with raised eyebrows.
“Lola, the guys are still on edge after yesterday. Call Wes and don’t leave the building…please.”
Right, because Indy had tracked me down to my apartment. He probably knew I worked at the Stanmore too. Had worked. Past tense. Because now I was fired.
“Okay. I’m just gonna grab my bag.”
“I’m gonna go drop this bomb on Matthieu. He’s going to lose his mind,” Cyrus said with a weary sigh, squeezing my shoulder as he passed. He bent and breathed into my ear before going, “Just relax today at home. I’ll see you there later. Everything’s going to be fine.”
I didn’t know if he meant in general or here at Designate specifically, but I straightened my back and lifted my chin before walking into the offices.
“No way,” Anna said shaking her head, standing from her desk and crossing her arms over her chest. “No way can she fire you. You’re the best thing that’s happened to our department in years.”
Zane puffed a breath and rolled his eyes in the corner, but he never looked directly at me.
“Lola, what happened?” Corey asked from her chair, eyes worried
Damnit. These were the girls I should’ve befriended when I’d arrived at Designate. Corey and Anna were sweet and genuine.
“Case of loose lips from what I heard,” Betty muttered with her back to me as she faced her computer.
“Loose something,” Zane quipped quickly, although his eyes flicked in my direction and his lips turned down.
Anna looked about ready to tear one of them a new asshole so I hurried to cover the quiet, grabbing my bag up from where I’d left it by my chair.
“I probably better not get into it, to be honest,” I said. “At least until I talk to HR later. I’ll see you guys around, okay? Anna, I’m officially a subscriber, so I’ll be squeeing all over your videos.”
I grabbed a quick hug from Anna and Corey, and left the others in their uncomfortable quiet.
“Good luck, Lola,” Corey called softly.
I waved and then dug for my phone in my purse, finding Wes’ number near the top of my calls as I headed for the elevators again. My life is an actual roller coaster these days, I mused, Daze’s stare digging into my back as I waited for my elevator.
“Hey, sweetheart, what’s going on?”
“Hey, I…I need a ride,” I said, the first wobble of tears rising up in my voice. Keep it together. Just keep your shit together until you get back to the house at least.
“A ride? I can—yeah, I can get to you, what’s happened?”
I stepped into the elevators and waited for the doors to close on the stares of the office before I answered him. “Some stuff is going on at the magazine, and I got fired for my part in it.”
“You what? Does—what the fuck? Have you—” Wes stuttered, and I heard a door slam over the phone.
“I talked to Cyrus before I grabbed my things.”
“Does Matt know?”
I sucked in a deep breath and squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Matthieu was a weak spot for me. There was a big part of myself that wanted Matthieu to jump into the fray and become my white knight in the situation. But he had Voir and the magazine to worry about, and I wanted to hold onto just a little bit of dignity. Enough to get myself calmly out of the building.
“I think Cyrus went to talk to him, but I need…I need to just keep that separate for a little bit, okay?” What was it going to look like if the CEO of Voir stepped in to save one tiny little brand new assistant editor’s job? Like I was sleeping with him.
Which I was.
But not for the sake of my job.
Wes was quiet, and I held my breath, blinking rapidly as the doors opened and a few men in suits stepped into the space with me. “You’re right, sweetheart. I’m grabbing my car, and then we’re going to go somewhere together.”
“Go where?” I asked, the idea distracting me from the tension rising in my chest.
“I dunno. Where’s…what’s fun? What do you like to do? We’ll just goof off a little for the day.”
I smiled and swallowed down the lump in my throat. “How about a movie with a lot of unnecessary explosions?”
“As long as there’s a tub of popcorn the size of you, I’m in,” Wes said.
My phone beeped in my ear, and I checked the screen. Matthieu.
“Hey, Matthieu’s calling. I’m gonna answer.”
“On my way. Stay in the lobby until you see me in my car,” Wes answered, voice stern.
“Yes sir,” I chirped, noting with another smile the growl that was cut off as I switched calls. “Hi, I’m fine, I’m going downstairs to meet Wes.”
“Come up to my office,” Matthieu said, his own growl resonating and tinny on the phone. “You’re not fired. She’ll be fired, with prejudice—”
“It can’t be about me,” I said, voice low. I was only ten floors from the lobby.
“You know that’s not… Well, it’s not the e
ntire reason,” Matthieu grumbled.
“Hey, just get things in order there and don’t worry about me. You haven’t bitten her head off yet, right?”
“I…I have not made it to her office yet.”
My lips twitched as the elevator chimed our arrival in the lobby. “Retreat, please. Worry about the company,” I whispered. I bit my lip and realized I knew exactly what it would take for Matthieu to redirect his focus off of me. “Wes is going to take me to a movie. Lots of popcorn. Not as good as french fries, but with enough butter and salt, it will do.”
There. Just like that, a purr. All it had taken for Matthieu’s mood to flip was…
Was to know I was being taken care of. I stopped still in the heart of the lobby, blinking at nothing as men and women in business tailoring wove their way around me.
“You’re being very sensible,” Matthieu said, warmth seeping into his tone. “All right. I’ll take care of business here first. You’re fine?”
“I’m fine,” I echoed, voice a little thin.
Matthieu was perfect. All of them. They were all too good to be fucking true. And I wasn’t fucking this up. I mean, I wasn’t making it easier probably—I had baggage up to my eyeballs. All they wanted to do was help me carry it. Was that how decent relationships worked?
“You know, I think I was really looking forward to being unprofessional,” Matthieu mused. “How disappointing to be corrected.”
“You can be unprofessional with me later,” I teased, watching a long black Plymouth pull up to the curb.
“Oh, my Lolotte. I will,” Matthieu purred.
I shivered. “My ride is here. I…I gotta go.”
“Be good, darling girl. I’ll see you tonight,” he rumbled.
Woof. I was so screwed. But in the fun way.
“Can’t believe you dragged me to a movie where the lead actor’s name is car fuel,” Wes said as we left the theater.
My hand was in his, fully surrounded. I’d checked while the movie was running, and his were at least twice the size of mine.