Chapter Nineteen
MARLEY
It’s Monday afternoon, and I am standing outside the glass doors of Blackwell Entertainment Group, my heart trying to escape through my ribs.
The glass monstrosity towers above me, all sleek modern lines and reflective windows catching the morning sun.
This is my shot at something better.
Suddenly, my phone buzzes.
Nitro the Nice Uber Guy: You’ve got this, Small Town. They’d be idiots not to hire you.
Me: What if I mess this up?
Nitro the Nice Uber Guy: Then you’ll improvise. You’re creative and talented as all hell. Trust yourself the way I trust in you.
The words settle warm in my chest, so I take a deep breath and push through the doors.
The lobby steals my breath with its soaring ceilings, contemporary art, and a waterfall cascading down one wall. Everything screams success, innovation, and creativity.
Nothing like Derek’s sterile office prison.
“Marley Wren?” A woman in a tailored navy dress extends her hand. “I’m Sophia Hanson, Mr. Blackwell’s executive assistant. We’re so excited you’re here.”
She leads me to a conference room where four people wait—Michael, the current Creative Director, Hailey from Digital Marketing, David, VP of Brand Strategy, and Kara, Director of Content Creation.
“Tell us about yourself,” Hailey asks warmly. “What drew you to advertising?”
The question is easy, and I begin talking about creating imaginary ad campaigns as a kid, about discovering I could turn ideas into something tangible, something that made people feel.
And they listen. Actually listen, not with barely concealed impatience like Derek’s colleagues, but with genuine engagement.
“I believe good advertising tells a story,” I say, finding my rhythm. “People connect with stories. They remember how you made them feel.”
“Exactly our philosophy,” Kara says, practically bouncing. “We’re creating experiences, building relationships.”
The interview flows. They ask about the campaigns I’m proud of and the challenges I’ve faced.
I tell them about the unconventional approach that tripled engagement, the community campaign that won an award.
I don’t mention Derek or the toxic environment I was forced to work in, but instead, I focus on what I love, the rush of seeing an idea come to life.
“Marley,” Michael says finally, “I have to be honest. We’ve interviewed candidates with more experience, bigger names.” Damn! My heart sinks. “But none of them have your spark. Your passion reminds me of why I got into this business.”
“We want to offer you the position. One hundred and ten thousand to start, full benefits, performance bonuses, and four weeks’ vacation. We’d be lucky to have you.”
My jaw actually drops. Not figuratively, literally. I sit here staring at Michael as if he just offered me ownership of the whole damn building instead of a job.
“One hundred and… what?” I manage, blinking at him like an idiot because surely I heard him wrong. My heart kicks hard against my ribs, a full-body jolt.
That’s almost double what I make working for Derek.
That’s life-changing.
Is this real?
My palms go sweaty, my throat tight. “I-I don’t even know what to say,” I whisper, because I really don’t. My brain is running in circles, trying not to cry in a glass-walled office as if I am a complete idiot. “This is… this is incredible.”
Their smiles say they’re satisfied with my reaction. Inside, I’m screaming. Out loud, I swallow and try to look like a professional woman who totally deserves this and is not two seconds away from pulling a happy dance.
Sophia smiles. “Well, Marley, the job is yours, if you want it.”
My voice cracks. “R-really?”
“Really.”
Fifty thousand more than Derek pays me.
To do work I believe in.
To work with people who value creativity.
“Yes,” I say quietly. “Yes, absolutely!” I declare with a bit more vigor this time.
By the time I’m back in the elevator, I’m floating. My hands shake as I pull out my cell and call Nitro.
He answers on the first ring. “How’d it go?”
“I got it!” My voice breaks on a laugh. “They offered it to me on the spot.”
“Marley…” The pride in his voice makes my chest tight. “Baby, that’s incredible. I fucking knew it.”
“They actually listened to me, Nitro. Like really listened.”
“Of course they did. You’re brilliant. Stay there. I’m coming to get you. We’re celebrating.” He ends the call before I can say anything else, so I open the group text chain between Beck, Sage, and me and send a message.
Me: I GOT IT!!!!!
Sage Against the Machine: I knew you would, you brilliant bitch!
Beck The Better Brother: My sister! The best there is. I’m gonna call you, pick up!
And true to his word, seconds later, my cell begins to ring. I let out a small laugh as I swipe the screen to my crazy older brother. “Hey, Beck.”
“Don’t act all coy with me, you whore. I know you wanna scream from the rooftops with me.”
I glance around the foyer of the Blackwell Entertainment building as I make my way out, and I smirk. “I would, but I am still in the building… give me a few seconds.”
Beck huffs down the line. “Oh, c’mon, walk faster, girl!”
Giggling, I push past the glass door, make it out onto the street, make sure I am past the visuals, and then let out a small shriek of excitement down the phone line. “Oh my God, that felt so fucking good!”
“There she is, there’s my fun little sister. I knew you’d kill it!”
Inhaling sharply, I lean back against the tall building’s facade. “I have to give notice,” I say, reality creeping back. “I have to tell that asshole I’m leaving.”
“And you’re gonna do it with your head held high. You deserve better than that decaying cock stain, Marley.”
A slow smirk crosses my lips as a motorcycle roars up the street. I look up at Nitro, who is pulling up on his Harley.
“Beck, I gotta go.”
“I hear a motorcycle. Is lover boy there?”
Nitro smiles at me in that way that melts me inside, and every inch of me wants to run to him. “I’ll see you and Sage later tonight for celebration drinks?”
“Fuck, yes! Give that muscle man a kiss from me.”
I laugh, stepping away from the wall and walking toward Nitro. “Kiss him yourself tonight… and thank you for being the best brother a girl could ask for.”
“Oh, I’m gonna tell Cal that I’m the favorite brother.”
“Bye, Beck,” I drone as Nitro steps off his bike, and I end the call even though I know Beck is saying some witty retort, but I choose to ignore him and cut him off instead.
Right now, with the way Nitro is staring at me, I need to kiss the hell out of him.
I step up to him, his arms instantly sliding out onto my hips, pulling me to him.
I don’t wait, I lean in, slamming my lips to his, my fingers threading through his messy hair, pulling him closer, and I kiss him for all he’s worth.
Our tongues dance in a rhythm that is all our own, my body molding against his as I let out a small whimper into his mouth, my clit instantly throbbing, just wishing we were in my apartment right now so we could celebrate this properly.
But reluctantly, I pull back, only ever so slightly, and his hand slides up, swiping a stray hair away from my face. “I’m so fucking proud of you, my brilliant, talented, soon-to-be Creative Director,” he says, pulling me into a hug that lifts me off my feet.
“I can’t believe this is happening.”
“Believe it.” He cups my face. “You’re talented, Marley, and the execs in there could clearly see that. You wouldn’t have gotten the job otherwise. You deserve this, Small Town.”
“I couldn’t have done this without you, though. You helped me land this job. Whoever your friend is who helped me land this interview, please thank them for me.”
He simply smiles and gestures toward his bike. “You ready to ride?”
“To Derek’s firm?”
“I’ll wait outside, but I’ll be there if you need me.” His jaw tightens. “That asshole doesn’t get to make you feel like shit for choosing yourself.”
Groaning, I nod. “Sure… let’s get this over with.”
He smiles and gently taps my ass with a chuckle. “Good girl.”
He climbs onto his bike, and I slide on behind him, then we take off toward Derek’s firm—a place I will soon not have to set foot in again.
The ride is short, and too soon we’re pulling up to the familiar building that’s been my prison for years.
“You’ve got this?” Nitro asks.
“I’ve got this!” I tell him, suddenly feeling a sense of power I didn’t think I had in me. He leans in, pressing a kiss to my lips, and then shifts up, pressing another to my forehead.
“I’ll be right here if you need me. Just say the word, and I’ll happily come kick his ass for you.”
I chuckle and tilt my head, wondering if I should let Nitro come up with me, but then I think better of it. “I’ll be fine, but thank you. You’re too good to me.”
I turn and walk inside the building. It’s so much smaller, so much more chaotic and crammed than the Blackwell setup. I never noticed it before, but it feels clumsy and unprofessional once you see a setup like Blackwell’s.
Shaking my head, I step into the elevator and press the button to head up to Derek’s floor. The elevator ride feels different this time. Like I’m walking away from my past. By the time I reach our floor, my hands have stopped shaking.
I walk straight into Derek’s office without knocking. He’s on the phone, feet up on his desk. When he sees me, annoyance flickers across his face. He holds up a finger for me to wait and continues his conversation.
But I don’t wait.
I cross to his desk and set an envelope on top of his precious papers.
Derek’s eyes narrow, and he hangs up. “What’s this?”
“My resignation, effective immediately.”
He picks up the envelope and scans it. Surprise, anger, and concern flash across his face. “You’re quitting?”
“I got a job offer. Creative Director position. Better salary, better benefits, better everything.”
“Marley…” The manipulative tone I know so well. “You’re being impulsive. We can negotiate your salary. You don’t need to leave just because we’re not together—”