Spring Break Fling

Chapter 34

34

HANNAH

T he alarm on my phone jolted me out of fitful sleep. I looked around, a little disoriented. I was home in my tiny apartment in my queen bed that pretty much filled the entire space. I shut off the alarm, putting it on snooze just in case I fell asleep. Although I didn’t think that was possible.

I had spent the last week preparing for this meeting. I’d been up late into the night finalizing the slides to present to the group today. Clarke had been babysitting me through the project. I knew he didn’t trust me since the debacle in Miami. I felt like I had proven myself, but Clarke insisted I send everything to him to review.

I grabbed my phone and checked my messages to see if he had replied with any words of advice or demands for changes. I didn’t see anything and took that as a good sign.

I rolled out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom to get a cold shower. I needed to wake up. As the icy water washed over me, I recited my speech. This time, I was not going to fuck it up. I was going to kill it. My coworkers were going to respect me. I was younger than most of them and they didn’t see me as true competition. But they would.

I got out of the shower and put on my expensive lotion. It smelled pretty and it always made me feel more confident. I spent some extra time on my hair and makeup. Usually, I was more of a wash and go, but not today.

I took a deep breath and straightened my blazer. Everything hung in the balance. Assuming my presentation went well, I would be coming home and packing my things for a move to New York. Yes, I would miss Idaho and my friends, but I had stars in my eyes.

My hands trembled slightly as I gathered my materials. The past week had been a blur of preparation and emotional recovery. Tara and the girls had been amazing, helping me piece myself back together after the Nikko situation. But underneath the carefully curated professional exterior, I was still raw. It was easier not to think about it. Focusing on work had been an amazing distraction.

The conference room felt sterile and cold as I set up my presentation. Clarke sat at the head of the table, his piercing gaze already making me nervous. I could feel the weight of my recent personal drama threatening to undermine my professional composure.

“Ready, Hannah?” Clarke asked, his tone more neutral than encouraging.

“Absolutely,” I said with a bright smile.

As I began to present, I realized this moment could change the rest of my life. Living in New York was a big deal and it would be a big step on the ladder to the top. I just had to nail this.

Five minutes into my presentation, Clarke very casually slid into the pitch. Before I knew it, I was sitting, and he was presenting.

The meeting felt like a marathon in hell. My patience was shot. I didn’t come into the meeting with a lot of it, but now I was just done. My work was being stolen right before my very eyes.

Clarke droned on about “big picture” strategies while everyone nodded like obedient bobbleheads. I sat quietly because if I opened my mouth, I was going to be standing in the unemployment line.

My notes were filled with passive-aggressive doodles of stick figures toppling over graphs. Every few minutes, Clarke reminded the room that he sealed the deal with the New York City client. He was painting himself as the architect of the pitch I spent hours on. Days and weeks to be more precise. He conveniently skipped over the weeks of groundwork I’d laid to make that meeting possible. I clenched my pen so hard I thought it might snap.

He was even using my graphics. If he wasn’t the boss, I would have thrown my coffee on him.

I caught the eye of one of my coworkers that had helped me do some of the research. She gave me a subtle eye roll, understanding exactly what was happening. We’d been colleagues long enough that she knew my work inside and out.

No one was saying a damn thing about it. Why would they? I wasn’t. I couldn’t ask anyone to stand up for me since I wasn’t standing up for myself. I continued my doodling. It wasn’t like I needed to pay attention. It was my work.

“Of course, we wouldn’t be here without my final touch,” Clarke said, flashing a smarmy grin.

Oh, fuck you, Clarke.

But I smiled and nodded like a good little corporate minion.

The real gut punch came at the end.

“The client has requested a representative on location to oversee implementation,” Clarke announced, his tone oozing importance. “Naturally, we’ll need someone capable, adaptable, and ready to represent the firm in New York.”

New York. My dream city. My dream job. My pulse spiked.

This was it. This was my shot. Everything I’d worked for was finally within reach. This was my job. When I first started on this pitch, it was with one end game in mind. I forgot about my sadness. Nikko’s face when he heard about my plan faded for just a moment. My eyes were on the prize. I always told myself that was all I had to do to get ahead. Keep my eyes on the prize and everything else would work out just fine. Ignore distractions and focus.

Finally, all those long nights and missed time with my friends would be rewarded.

Clarke glanced around the room like he was savoring the tension, then smiled. “Congratulations, Steven. You’re going to New York.”

What ?

I blinked, sure I’d misheard. Steven? Steven? The guy whose most significant contribution to our firm was the coffee machine repair?

Everyone was clapping and offering their congratulations. My face was burning and there was a loud buzzing in my ears like my head was stuffed into a beehive.

On one hand, I knew I shouldn’t be surprised. Clarke had been pulling shit like this for years. But on the other hand, I had earned this job. I deserved it and I didn’t say that lightly. I never acted entitled. Nor had I ever just assumed I should be given something because I asked for it. I wanted this job more than anyone in this room. I was more skilled and disciplined than the guy Clarke just handed everything to on a silver platter. I felt taken advantage of and small. Clarke let me do all that work knowing he wasn’t going to give me the job. He sent me to Miami to do the leg work. Yes, I fucked up by missing one meeting, but it was my first and only mistake since I was hired.

I deserved a little grace, and yes, deserved was the appropriate word. If I charged him my overtime hours, he would be broke. I gave my time and energy, and a little thanks and reward were well deserved.

I noticed a few people looking at me. They knew. They knew this was an absolute bullshit promotion for a guy that did not deserve it. Steven did the absolute minimum to get by. He was just like Clarke. He had no qualms about borrowing the hard work of others. He was infamous for claiming we should all be team players, but when it came time to stand on the podium, it was him.

Just like what Clarke was doing now.

“What the fuck?” The words slipped out before I could stop them, loud enough to snap every head in the room toward me.

Clarke arched an eyebrow. “I beg your pardon?”

The conference room plunged into awkward silence. My face burned as I realized everyone was staring, including Steven, who looked both smug and startled, like he’d just been handed a winning lottery ticket for no apparent reason. He knew damn well he didn’t earn that job. He didn’t know the client or the work. It was my baby .

“Sorry,” I muttered.

But I wasn’t really sorry. I was pissed. Humiliated. Everyone was looking at me with pity. A few of them were laughing on the inside. Did they all know it was unlikely I would actually get the job? Had all of them watched me bust my ass while they knew?

I looked at the faces of those that had left hours before me every night. The people that took sick days and time off knowing their jobs were safe. I gathered my notebook and bolted from the room before I burst into flames. Or violently started throwing shit.

I made it to the elevator, barely holding it together, when a kind woman from another company handed me a tissue. “Bad day?” she asked sympathetically.

“You have no idea.” I sniffled, dabbing my eyes.

The elevator was taking its sweet time. I just wanted to get out of the building and run. I didn’t know if I quit my job or if I just got fired, but I had to get out of there.

By the time I stumbled into the lobby, I was ready to hurl myself into the nearest cab.

“I hope your day gets better,” the woman said.

“Thanks,” I murmured.

I knew it wasn’t going to get better. It was going to get worse. Much worse. I planned on ending the day with a stomachache brought on by too much ice cream and a headache caused by too much wine. I walked out of the elevator with my mind already focused on my next steps. Did I call Clarke and beg for the position? Did I resign and tell him to fuck off? Or suck it up and pretend I didn’t just get humiliated in front of my colleagues?

I walked toward the door, barely seeing anyone or anything. But something told me to look up. Standing smack in the middle of the lobby, like some tattooed apparition, was the last person I expected to see.

“Nikko?”

His dark eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, the chaos of the world melted away.

“Hey, Hannah. ”

My brain short-circuited.

“What are you—How did you—Why are you here?” I stammered, feeling like a broken record.

Nikko shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, looking every bit as infuriatingly cool as I remembered. “Thought I’d stop by.”

“You thought you’d stop by?” My voice pitched higher than I intended. “This is Idaho, Nikko, not the next town over!”

“Yeah, I know,” he said, his mouth twitching like he was trying not to smile. “That’s why I flew.”

He flew here. My brain struggled to compute. It didn’t make sense.

I stared at Nikko, my mind racing. After everything that happened in Miami—the betrayal, the accusations, the painful goodbye—he was standing here in my office lobby.

“Are you really here?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

He stepped closer, his presence filling the space between us. “I’m here.”

A million questions swirled in my head. Why now? After how things ended? After Jessie’s revelation about my original plan?

“How did you even find me?” I asked.

“I listened when you talked.”

My heart was pounding so hard I was sure he could hear it. The lobby suddenly felt too small, too crowded, despite being nearly empty. This day was going to turn me inside out and upside down.