His mother’s face contorted with rage, and her skin was blotched and red. “You ungrateful, selfish—”
“No. I’m not.” He stood. “I appreciate everything you’ve given me, and I agonize over every single decision I know will disappoint you. I also don’t work for you anymore. Consider this my resignation.” His thoughts fluctuated between anger and apathy. He should be nervous or scared by what he was doing. Instead, calm was settling in. “And not that it’s ever been your business, but I am seeing Sydney again. So’s Dylan. And we’re all okay with that.”
An icy mask slid into place, more concerning that her fury. “Clean your desk and get the fuck out of my office. Now.”
“Of course, Ms. Hunter. Have a lovely day.” Josh didn’t slam the door. He let it swing shut softly behind him as he strolled away.
He didn’t know what to make of his thoughts...Which feeling to focus on. He could scream—at himself or his mother—or laugh at the sense of relief that threatened his thoughts. Cry. Curse three years in law school just to wind up here.
He swallowed it all for the moment. Any reaction would wait until he left the office.
Josh was shoving the last of his belongings into a box, when Dylan approached.
“What are you doing?” Dylan’s voice was low.
Josh shrugged. Could he talk without unleashing the flood of confusion that roared inside? “What’s it look like?”
Dylan furrowed his brow. He liked it here. There was no reason to drag him down.
“I’ll text you.” Josh grabbed his stuff and walked toward the stairs.
He was shaking by the time he slid into his car. The yell he expected to tear free wouldn’t come. He pressed his forehead into the cool steering wheel and took several deep breaths.
The action didn’t help him sort out his head, but it helped him unclench his fists.
Now what?
Go back upstairs and apologize? Beg for his job back? Reach out directly to the publisher and ask for a chance to work for them, despite the way he left his last job?
Start drinking at eight in the morning?
Josh didn’t know. And the thing that scared him the most was he wasn’t worried about it.
SYDNEY WAS DOING HER best not to fidget, as she waited to be shown into a conference room.
She shouldn't be as nervous as last time—Dylan and Josh went over the entire contract with her yesterday. Not that she’d tell anyone about their help. That wasn’t a relationship line they’d completely obliterated.
None of what they told her was unexpected. The offer was an advance against royalties, to distribute her game. It was a good advance, too. Enough to keep her solvent for a couple of years, and hopefully give the game time to earn out, and maybe she could pitch them her next idea as well.
And this was the big day. She was surrendering some of her control to this publisher. It meant more money, more support, and with a little luck, more contracts in the future. It was still new and scary, though.
Sydney wanted to wander by Dylan’s and Josh’s desks while she waited. Say hi. Chat for a few minutes and maybe take her mind off the morning.
She wouldn’t put them in that position. They’d be available after work.
“Ms. Brimhall? They’re ready for you.” A man about her age showed her back to the same conference room they’d been in before.
She resisted the urge to crane her neck for a glimpse of either of her guys.
Her guys. The phrase was enough to let a tiny smile poke through the tension. This weekend had been incredible. In some ways, she had a hard time believing it was real. If she could keep the memories hovering in her mind without blushing through this meeting, it would help her stay calm.
Dylan wasn’t in here today. Not that she was surprised.
After a round of handshakes and polite conversation, they got down to business. Aaron Jorgensen handed her the contract and a pen, and asked if she had any final questions.
She tried to read everything though again, telling herself Aaron’s fingers drumming on the table had nothing to do with her going slowly. Her eyes glazed over after two or three pages.
She settled for skimming the rest, mostly for show. It made her look more professional, didn’t it?
And then it was over. Weeks of stress and worrying, just to be done with the final step in less than half an hour.
She shook everyone’s hands again. Josh had told her that while it wasn’t in the contract, and she didn’t hear it from him, that she should drop the hint that she had more ideas.
She reached their art director. “I’m looking forward to discussing future ideas with you.”
“That won’t be necessary.” His tone was cool, and his expression cold. “It was a pleasure meeting you.”
Oh. Sydney’s smile froze in place, and a response stuck in her throat. Was that a brush-off? From the company who was distributing her game?
“Thank you again for coming down here, Ms. Brimhall.” Aaron showed her from the room and walked her to the elevator. “Have a wonderful day.”
Why did she feel like she’d just been pushed aside in a not-good way? Was the clenching in her gut the tail end of nerves?
She checked her messages as she rode the lift down to the parking garage. One from Dylan said Congratulations.
The other, from Josh, said, Call me when you’re done. We’ll get late breakfast.
Shouldn’t he be working?
She settled into her car. The churning in her gut was worse now. Something was wrong. Josh would have to wait a few minutes.
She pulled the contract from her briefcase.
The first few pages were what she expected. And that eyes-glazing-over feeling was back. This time, she was reading the whole thing.
When she got to the section about rights, her gut sank. Work for hire. The phrase glared at her like it was written in neon. She read the section over and over. There was nothing in here about an advance. About royalties.
If she was reading this right, it said she’s just surrendered her game and its characters in their entirety to the distributors.
This wasn’t what she’d reviewed with Josh and Dylan. She had to be reading it wrong. She wouldn’t have signed this. She’d turned down similar offers in the past.
It didn’t matter how many times she read it. It still said Work for hire.
This was bullshit. Confusion and doubt gave way to anger. They had her sign a different contract than the one she’d reviewed.
Sydney needed to undo this. She headed back upstairs.
“May I help you, Miss?” The same man who had shown her to her meeting was working the reception desk.
She’d be polite and cool about this. She wouldn’t freak out without proof. “I think there’s an issue with the contract I just signed. I’d like to speak to Aaron Jorgensen or someone else who can help me.”
“I see. Are you a client?”
“No. But I was just here. You saw me.”
He shook his head. “We can’t offer legal advice to people who aren’t our clients. I’m sorry. You’ll need to speak with your own attorney.”
“My attorney didn’t prepare this contract.” She struggled to keep her frustration from bleeding into something more intense. “I’d like to speak with the person who did.”
“We don’t do that. I’m sorry. You can have your lawyer schedule a time with someone here if there are concerns. We can’t help you if you’re not a client.”
Was she not making herself clear? “This doesn’t have anything to do with whether or not I pay someone here. I just want to speak with one of the people who prepared this contract.” She could ask for Josh or Dylan, but she didn’t want to get them in trouble.
“We can’t help you.” He turned back to his computer.
She slammed her palm on the reception counter. “Just let me talk to someone!” The shout came out without her permission, but she didn’t want to take it back.
“You need to leave.”
/>
“You pulled a fucking bait and switch.” Now that she was yelling, she couldn’t stop. “I need to speak with someone here, or I’ll sue your asses off.” Which she couldn’t even begin to afford, but it sounded good.
“Then your lawyer can call us.” His voice wavered.
“Is there a problem, Ms. Brimhall?” Laurie Hunter’s voice drew Sydney’s attention. She stood a few feet away, watching Sydney with a venom-filled glare.
Sydney swallowed the impulse that was always there to cower in front of this woman. “This contract isn’t the one I was given to review. It was swapped for a bullshit version I never would have signed if I’d known.”
“Did you read this one before you signed it?”
Sydney clenched her jaw and struggled to ignore the embarrassed, awkward girl who wanted to emerge. “I glanced at it.”
“Then you knew what it contained. We’re not responsible for seller’s remorse, especially when you’re not our client. You need to leave.”
“I just want you to hear me out.” Sydney’s retort came out as more of a plea than a demand.
Someone loosely grabbed her arm. A man in a security uniform had stepped up next to her. “Miss, please come with me.”
Humiliation mingled with her fury. She wanted to break away and throw a tantrum until they listened. It wouldn’t do her any good. “Fine. But we’re not done.”
“Yes we are, Sydney. Don’t come back here. Next time, I’ll call the police.” A strong threat wove through Laurie’s reply.
Sydney blinked back the tears that pricked her eyelids as she stepped onto the elevator for the five-billionth time that day, this time with Security by her side.
Josh wanted to meet up. He could help her figure this out.
Unless he was in on it.
She growled mentally at the doubt and refused to give it any attention.
Because you know it’s possible.
No. She wasn’t listening. La la la la.
They reached her car, and the security guy waited near the hood. Was he going to stand there until she left?
He crossed his arms.
Apparently so.
She was going to cry. And then be sick. And then cry some more.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
It was rare for Dylan to be so distracted, it got in the way of what he should be doing. This morning though, he had zero focus.
Moments after Josh walked out of the office and left an empty desk behind, he sent a text. I quit. My choice. I’ll explain later. Don’t let this fuck you too.
Dylan asked for details.
Josh’s response was, Tell you at lunch. Best said in person.
Not reassuring.
Dylan’s level of distraction doubled when the clock ticked up toward Sydney’s meeting. She’d be fine. Everything would go smoothly. It was a basic contract.
He forced his head down... and stared blankly at his screen.
Nope. Nothing was getting done today. At least not until he had some answers.
He sent Sydney a quick text that said Congratulations. That helped a little, even if she wouldn’t see it or respond until she left.
A loud noise carried from the lobby, and Dylan frowned. Sydney?
No.
There was another yell.
That was definitely Sydney. He was halfway out of his chair, when Laurie Hunter paused in front of his desk.
Rage radiated from her. “I swear to God, if you go out there, you’ll never practice law in this city.”
He sank back into his seat as she stalked away. Was she serious?
Did it matter, if something was wrong with Sydney?
He didn’t know what was happening. Was he willing to risk Laurie’s threat being real if this was something he shouldn’t be involved in?
It was Sydney. If he could help, he would. If not, he’d be there for her.
At the cost of his career?
He was on his feet before the question finished scrolling through his thoughts.
When he reached the lobby, Sydney was stepping into the elevator with Security. She didn’t look up before the doors closed.
What the fuck?
He whirled to face Laurie. Red splotches dotted her face, and she was watching him with poison in her eyes.
Well, fuck.
She closed her eyes, and her chest rose and fell. When she met his gaze again, her mask was back in place.
This was honestly more terrifying than her fury. It didn’t matter. He was ready to run downstairs, to stop Sydney.
“Take the rest of the day off,” Laurie said in a cool tone. “I’m giving you permission, because you’re going to do it anyway.”
He was sprinting toward the stairs before she finished speaking. Her words hit his back as the stairwell door closed behind him, and he wasn’t sure he heard her right.
“Tell my son I’m sorry.”
That couldn’t be what she said. She never referred to Josh as her son in the office. And she never apologized once she’d taken a stand.
He’d deal with it later. As he reached the parking garage, the security guy who’d escorted Sydney out was heading back to the elevators.
“Where is she parked?” Dylan asked.
“The chubby girl? She’s gone. Watched her leave.”
Dylan clenched his fist. It was so tempting to deck the guy for the chubby comment. But there were more important things to deal with. Like finding out what the fuck was going on.
He needed to grab his stuff from his desk. On the trip up, he sent Josh and Sydney both texts that said he’d be at the coffee shop a block from the office, and that he’d wait for the next hour, unless they said they weren’t coming.
Already there. Josh’s reply came before Dylan was back on the ground floor.
There was no response from Sydney.
Dylan was both grateful for the short stroll to the coffee shop, and irritated it took so long to get there. By the time he walked in the front door, adrenaline hammered full force in his veins, and his body was wound tighter than a spring.
He didn’t have to look, to know Josh would be at the same table they always sat at. He crossed the room without pausing, bent at the waist, and kissed Josh hard, pouring several hours of built-up tension into the connection.
This was the one thing that felt right about the morning. Like it should have been this way long ago.
When Dylan broke away, Josh wore a faint smile, but it didn’t erase the lines etched in his forehead.
Josh nodded at the seat across from him, and the second cup on the table. “Got you a drink. Decaf.”
“Probably smart.” Dylan would have scoffed at the idea on any other day. He sipped the still-scalding coffee. Should he ask what happened to Josh first, or tell him about Sydney? He knew which he’d want to hear, if he was the guy with half the information—the other half.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Josh asked.
“Your mom gave me the day off. I think between you quitting and Security escorting Sydney from the build—”
“What?”
Dylan shrugged. “I don’t know much. There was yelling—Sydney’s—and when I got out to the lobby, they were seeing her to her car. And then she was gone.”
“Fucking... I’d say unbelievable, but let me guess. My mother was involved.” Josh’s laugh was bitter.
“She looked worse than I’ve ever seen her. Laurie did. Not just angry, but... stressed.”
Josh’s scowl wavered. “She brought it on herself.”
“What happened?”
“I don’t even know where to start.” Josh sighed through his fingers as he rubbed his face. “She knew I drafted that letter for Sydney. She told me Sydney was going to ruin your career and better you than me. She implied pretty heavily that she’d worked hard to keep me away from Sydney...”
There was so much to unpack there, Dylan didn’t know where to start. “And then you quit.”
“Wouldn’t you?”
Dylan
’s decision wouldn’t be as straightforward as Josh’s. He liked his job. Then again, he’d been willing to be fired less than an hour ago. “I don’t blame you.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Josh slumped in his chair. “I can’t believe... The only part of this not devouring me is the actual quitting. Fuck, that felt good. Why hasn’t Tink replied to my messages?”
Dylan had a similar concern. “I told her the same thing I said to you—that I’d be here for an hour.” Did they wait here or try to track her down? See if she was at her apartment, or... Dylan didn’t know where else they’d look.
But he was worried about her.
SYDNEY GOT DYLAN’S message before she was more than a few blocks from the law offices. She’d wavered about going to meet him. He could explain. Help her understand.
Or he could ask her what the fuck her problem was, and chide her for acting so unprofessionally in the place he worked.
No. That wasn’t Dylan.
It was Josh.
He’d said he was sorry.
Less than two weeks after he’d pulled the same shit as when they were dating—picking work over her.
His apology was like every other time.
Dylan meant it, though. He was so close to perfect. Doting. Sweet. Understanding. Sexy as fuck.
Too perfect?
She let out a wordless scream in the car. It didn’t silence the gnawing argument in her head.
Sydney headed home, instead of replying. She needed to get herself under control. There was a freak-out crawling under her skin. The kind of insecurity she could usually suppress with a few distractions.
Today it roared for her attention. When she got home, she shed her professional outfit, not caring where they landed, and yanked on her baggiest, most comfortable clothes. The sweats and T-shirt she’d lived in for a week after she broke up with Josh.
Was she an idiot? Was this all a joke on their part?
No. It was too elaborate for that. It was a misunderstanding. For some reason they’d gone over a different version of the contract with her than she was handed today. It wasn’t their fault.
Unless it was.
No. She couldn’t listen to that voice. She’d call them. Call Dylan. Even when they fought, he was honest with her.
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