Chapter 3
Payson
As I’m finishing up with the latest design plans I was assigned, Cora strides into my office.
She works in housekeeping next door, and during her breaks, she likes to come over here and bask in the luxury of my designs with delicious snacks and cozy seats.
I am the only one on this entire floor, which has given me a chance to showcase some of my interior designs throughout the décor.
It feels less like an office and more like a home away from home.
There is even a small bed and a full wardrobe in one of the rooms, just in case I end up staying later than I intended.
Which is rare. It’s mainly in there because I caught Cora sleeping in her car a few times because she refused to go home so late at night just to return a few hours later.
Even though I love what I do, it’s not the job I dreamed of having as a little girl. Working alongside Jay at The Sable Siren, designing the interiors for both the hotel and casino. That was the dream. Then I met Kraig, and somehow, that dream is no longer a reality I can see myself in.
“Are you attending the end-of-the-year party tonight?”
“I don’t think so,” I reply. “I’m not really in a partying mood, and no one wants to see me make a fool of myself trying to dance.
” Cora plops herself in the chair in front of my desk, a pint of ice cream in her hand.
Putting away the files on top of my desk, I pluck the half-eaten tub from her hand, taking a bite as I prop against my desk.
She stares at me in shock for a moment. “What?” I ask, around a spoonful of ice cream.
“What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” She narrows her eyes at me, then nods to the container in my hands.
“You can’t stand that ice cream.” I look down at the label. She’s right, Rocky Road isn’t my favorite. Marshmallows in ice cream are a no for me, but I can’t even taste them.
“It’s nothing. I just have a lot on my mind right now,” I say, handing the tub of ice cream back to her.
We have grown really close over the last few months.
Along with Ashton and D, Cora is one of my best friends, but it’s hard to open up to someone when you have been told your entire life that the only person you can trust is yourself.
“You know I am here for you, right?” I give her a soft smile.
“I know. Same for you.”
“Well, break time’s over. I should head back so I can make sure I can leave on time for the party tonight,” she says, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “It starts at eight, right?” I have to admit, her words bring a smile to my face.
“Is that your way of saying you want me to see to it your name is on the guest list?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow. She shrugs, a hint of a smile is barely seen as she goes to leave.
“Meet here at eight?” she suggests, and I nod.