50. Now
FIFTY
now
In case Saturday night left any doubts as to the questionable state of my mental health, Parker finds me hyperventilating in the stairwell.
After Marjorie informed me—in front of Grayson and Marco—that we’ll be attending an event at his office later in the week, it was all I could do to nod, walk out of the room, and make a mad dash to the stairs before I hurled all over the conference room.
The implications whirl through my mind while I bend over the stairs and do my best not to pass out.
I know Marjorie—she suspects something is going on and secured an invitation to Grayson’s party to test me. If I fail the test, she probably won’t have any qualms about replacing me.
Not to mention, the contract won’t be signed before the event…. And her two hundred thousand dollar bonus hangs in the balance. If I don’t attend, will Gray revoke his offer? I can’t do that to my boss. She may not feel much loyalty to me, but I have tons for her.
She gave me my first real job straight out of school, with nothing to recommend me save for the fact that she liked the shoes I borrowed from Maggie for my interview. She taught me everything I needed to be successful at Idealogue and worked harder than any of her colleagues by half.
I respect her. And, though she may not realize it, she needs me to play along with whatever Gray is up to until he signs on the dotted line.
It takes twenty minutes to be sure I won’t heave my breakfast all over the stairwell, then another three to start breathing effectively again. Thankfully, I’ve mostly finished before Parker bursts in. And he doesn’t seem to notice.
“Ella!” he exclaims, flashing a surprised smile. “Hey. I’ve been looking for you. Never thought to check in here. Are you… on your way out?”
I force myself to stand up straight and smile back, ignoring the desperate tightness squeezing my diaphragm. “No. I’ve just been running between our floor and the conference room, fetching things for Marjorie.”
His grin deepens, rendering him truly, undeniably handsome. Lord. Why can’t I just like this man instead of the one currently two floors up?
“I thought I was the only lunatic who took the stairs,” he quips, coming closer and nodding at the papers in my hands. “Do you need any help?”
I shake my head. “No. She’s done with these. I’m just”— Preparing myself to spend time with Grayson Stryker— “Coming back down. ”
With a chivalrous flourish, he pulls the door to our floor open and reaches for the stack of documents. “I told you earlier I wanted to talk to you,” he reminds me. “Do you have a second now?”
I have to fight the incorrigible urge to giggle. It’s all just so hopelessly, ridiculously awful .
I’m about to get dumped by a guy I’m not even really dating… minutes before giving my ex-boyfriend and love of my life a tour… of the offices where I work with the guy dumping me.
“Sure,” I blurt, giving up. “Sure. Let’s talk.”
Parker’s smile wilts at the edges. “About this weekend…”
I change my mind, reaching out to halt him by placing my hand on his arm. “Parker, you don’t have to do this, okay? I know I was an absolute basket-case this weekend. And I’m so sorry, truly. I completely understand why you don’t want to go out again.”
His blond brows furrow. “What? Ella, no. I just want to apologize for not texting or calling yesterday. I slept late, and by the time I woke up, we had the memo about Stryker coming here. Honestly, I worked for eighteen hours straight on that pitch and totally forgot to text you. I’m really sorry.”
Of course . The poor guy just worked for the better part of a day and a night, only to be shot down. By my ex-boyfriend.
I tamp down a flare of guilt, trying to focus as I pat his sleeve. “It was such a good pitch”— Not as good as Marjorie’s, but— “Really cutting-edge.”
His jaw clenches while his lips part, the expression caught between a cringe and a smirk. “I thought so. Is Marjorie up there gloating?”
I think of her satisfied smile while Grayson perused her work. “Marjorie?!” I ask, feigning offense. “Never!”
Parker’s laugh fills the space between us. “Thank you,” he chuckles, drawing closer. “I needed that one.”
I want to shrug, but his hand halts me, floating up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind my ear. My lungs clamp onto my next breath, refusing to let it go until he retracts his touch. Panic instinctively rises inside of me.
Oh Lord .
My instincts kick in, and I turn my head to avert my face. Inadvertently flinging my gaze over to the elevators.
Where Grayson watches our exchange, his green eyes blazing .