Chapter Fourteen
I refused to be intimidated, pressing the DOWN button, making it look like Chad hadn’t rattled me. He was staring at me the same way Hugo used to do, reflecting a coldness toward me, thick brows over dead eyes.
Secrets, there’d been so damn many secrets.
Him sneaking off to look at his phone.
I had tried to ignore the flaws in my relationship, convincing myself it was fine. But the cracks were too obvious to overlook. I had always done what Hugo wanted, whether it was watching a movie of his choice, eating only when he was hungry, or planning every outing around his preferences. It was never about compromise; it was about him getting his way. The imbalance was glaring, and deep down, I knew it wasn’t healthy.
But the alternative was loneliness—yet I was surviving without him, as though my fear had been irrational all along, a smokescreen set off to keep me there.
“Are you going back to your floor?” asked Chad, frowning.
I snapped back to the present, realizing I’d zoned out. “What?”
“What did you do?” he said, pointing to the elevator number, annoyed we’d stopped.
You pushed all the damn buttons, you twat.
I reached out and punched the button again to get us moving.
There was another jolt, and then we descended, thankfully.
The elevator stopped on my floor.
Next time I saw Chad, I’d take the stairs.
“Breakroom.” He pointed in that direction and stepped out ahead of me. “We need to talk.”
Excuse me ? Did he just demand I follow him to a place he could continue to berate me?
“Whatever you have to say, say it here,” I demanded, stepping out of the elevator.
I wanted witnesses who could observe his irrational behavior and defend me if things got out of hand. This was a man coiled too tight.
“Want everyone to know who you are?” he asked smugly.
The asshole stormed on ahead of me, and I followed, needing this to be resolved before my secret spread like wildfire amongst my coworkers.
You can’t stay at Pulse360.
Cameron’s right.
No real point. Not after what just went down in Julia’s office. Might as well pack up and leave now. Every second here made me feel like a fraud.
In the brightly lit breakroom, tension continued to crackle between us. The aroma of coffee filled the air, a reminder that they used the cheap stuff for employees.
Oh, God, I really was a coffee bean snob.
Even thinking this proved his point—that I was a snob over something as simple as the coffee beans. Even if my family did offer the finest blends in the world to the masses, and that was something I’d once felt pride in.
I should leave this room, walk away, and not have to deal with this.
I headed back toward the door.
“Seriously?” he snapped.
I was privileged and needed to remember that. I needed to see the world from his perspective and at least hear what he had to say. Maybe I could learn from it.
“Listening has become a lost art,” Cameron had told me, in that affable way of his.
He was always right about so many things, only not this, I hoped.
“Chad, what do you need?” I kept my tone calm.
Egg stained his tie, and his shirt looked rumpled, like he’d taken a nap and woken up disheveled.
I almost felt sorry for him.
“What were you doing up there?” he asked, anxiety present in his tone.
“On the executive floor? That’s kind of private.”
“Some of us have to work for our promotions.” He glared at me.
“That wasn’t it at all.”
“You’re a nepo baby.”
“And how do you know that?”
“Not giving away my sources.”
I pointed upward. “I was invited up there to meet with Julia Sterling about something I’m working on. A woman’s issue. She probably won’t run with it. Feel better?”
“You just got hired.”
I bit my lip, barely stopping myself from mentioning that he worked in the mailroom. That if he wanted to sit behind any of those desks out there, he should work harder.
My face flushed. I hated myself for thinking it.
There was truth in his words.
Maybe Cameron was right, maybe I didn’t belong in the world where others refused to see me as their equals or even refused to give me a chance.
He snarled. “Want some tea?”
Only this guy could make a pleasant offer sound sinister.
I blinked at him. “You researching me is creepy.”
“This is a newsroom.”
“Do you normally dig around on new hires?”
“You are the story.”
I shook my head. “Don’t go there.”
“Your family’s famous.”
“That has nothing to do with you.” And honestly, this was a bad move on his part. One more word and I’d consider going to HR for bullying. Only, they’d probably fire him, and I’d never get over the guilt.
“Your brother is involved in some very interesting endeavors.”
Here it comes, that strange feeling of vulnerability. That awful sense that the world knew you when you hardly knew yourself. I’d been kept out of the news for the most part, but there was always someone excavating to gain leverage. I’d been protected from it—to a point.
But here I was, front and center, so that I, too, could experience the world like everyone else. Even if that was the lie, I told myself.
“You’ve gone quiet,” he said, jabbing a finger at me.
“Honestly, I don’t talk to the press.” I raised my hand up to placate him. “Ironic, I know, that I want to work in this field. But please, respect my boundaries.”
The sweet scent of doughnuts lingered in the air, but it quickly turned nauseating, souring the moment. I hated the thought that he knew anything about me. This creepy man, dripping with jealousy, unsettled me.
I let out a frustrated huff.
“Being a Cole got you the job. But now you must prove yourself.”
“You knew who I was the day I arrived. How?”
He hated me before he’d even met me.
He stepped closer, close enough to touch me. “Your family’s the story. Which makes you the story now.”