Chapter Twenty – Verity
CHAPTER TWENTY
VERITY
“ H ey, Verity, have you—”
I jerk at the voice, spilling the boiling water from the kettle onto the counter and narrowly missing my own hand.
“Whoa, sorry. Didn’t mean to startle you.” Imani tears off some paper towels and quickly soaks up the mess. “Just wanted to know if you’d seen the samples we got in from that new printer. You know, the one that can do that bubble effect with the raised spot UV?”
I calm my breath and try to fill my mug once again with the water, although I have a feeling this peppermint tea isn’t going to help with my anxiety at all. I’ve been on edge all morning, worried that somehow someone knows about Cullen and me.
“Yeah, I think they’re on Sally’s desk. She was looking at it earlier.”
“Thanks. I was thinking it would look cool on the sheet mask packaging, don’t you agree?”
“Mhm.”
I dunk my tea bag a few times, watching the water ripple.
“Are you good?”
“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” A fake smile ghosts my lips.
The skin around Imani’s eyes creases slightly. “You seem a little less energetic today.”
“Just tired from the Kelton project still.”
“That looked like it went great, by the way. It was even featured in that big magazine profile that went live this morning.” She nudges me with her elbow. “Maybe Celine will give your team a reward.”
“Yeah, right.”
I toss the tea bag out and pick up the hot mug as Imani and I walk back into the bullpen.
“You never know.”
“Imani, the odds of that are one in a million. We didn’t even get today off after working Saturday.”
“Valid. All right, I’m going to grab those samples from Sally.”
“’Kay.”
I drop onto my office chair and place my mug on the cute little star coaster in the corner. My computer chimes, reminding me that the Monday Weekly starts in five minutes. Which is just fantastic.
Not only will I have to listen to Anne present the Frankie Jones proposal, but I’ll also be stuck in the same room as Celine for thirty minutes. I don’t even know how to look at her without feeling this bone deep fear.
I busy myself by responding to an email from an old client requesting an update to one of the brand packages we created for them and get started on tweaking the files to send back over.
My computer chimes again on the hour, signaling for the nausea in my stomach to return. I swallow thickly, disconnecting my laptop from my desktop and picking it up, along with my phone and mug, before making my way to the meeting room.
I take my usual seat next to Jenna and sip on my hot tea, willing the peppermint to stave off the sickness roiling through my stomach.
It’s not helping. When Celine finally waltzes into the room, the sickness turns into a churning guilt.
“I want to start off by taking a moment to recognize the work Jenna’s team put into the branding of the Kelton Honors Club. I’ve had countless other hoteliers and luxury chains reach out today inquiring about our services. Well done.”
Celine nods to our team, and everyone around the table gives a short applause. Imani even wiggles her eyebrows a little as if to say told you .
I’m unable to bask in the rare compliment from our perfectionist boss.
I kissed your ex-husband.
The words play on a loop in my brain.
The meeting continues on, but that’s all I can hear.
My guilt keeps stacking with every minute that passes, and all I can do is pray that the shame isn’t leaking from my pores. My toes curl in my shoes, the tension in my body needing somewhere to go that isn’t my face.
Imani already knew something was off, but she’s the person I’m closest with in the company. I just have to hope that no one else knows me well enough to realize that my placid smile is full of secrets.
I barely register Anne’s proposal, only half paying attention as Jenna chimes in about some of the logistics.
My phone lights up, and I glance at the notification.
My heart explodes in a flurry of high intensity beats.
I flip my phone over with lightning speed. The slap is loud enough that it creates a break in the conversation, and I feel even more like a criminal as faces turn toward me.
“Sorry.”
I practically melt into my seat, wishing that I could turn into a puddle of nothing. But seared onto the lids of my eyes is that damn notification.
A text message from Cullen.
Cullen, whose name still has a little heart emoji next to it.
Dammit. I should’ve changed his contact name or blocked his number or, God, at least gotten rid of the stupid heart. Why didn’t I think of these things? I am trying to erase him from my life, and I can’t even do something as simple as that.
I fiddle with my hands in my lap.
There’s this part of me that wants to slip my phone under the table to unlock it and take a peek at what he said.
He’s been texting since I ran out on him, even going so far as to call me twice last night.
I had to put my phone on do not disturb yesterday just so I wouldn’t see the little red notification dots on my message app and be tempted to check them.
I want to hear what he has to say, but I can’t afford that risk. He is too tempting, too smooth with his words. My resolve isn’t strong enough to deal with that. I have to ice him out completely if I have any hope of killing this crush.
When the meeting ends, I can recall probably ten percent of what was discussed. My head is total mush as I gather up my things to numbly file out with everyone else.
“Verity.”
The voice roots me to the spot, and I slowly swivel around to face it.
“A moment?”
Celine breezes past me, heels tapping on the floorboards to her office. I just about pee myself, shuffling to catch up to her, as my nerves take hold.
I slip into her office, the glass door snicking shut behind me as I awkwardly stand in the middle of the room.
My laptop is hugged close to my chest, and my empty mug is clutched in my other hand.
I squeeze them both, trying to keep myself together.
That entire cup of tea I drank did nothing to help—in fact, it’s made things worse since now I have a nervous bladder.
“Take a seat.”
Celine gestures to the leather armchair in front of her desk, and I stiffly comply with her request. I keep reminding myself not to fidget, not to do anything to give away the emotions rattling in my chest.
I’m cool.
I’m calm.
I’m a summer breeze, floating over the ocean, dancing with the gulls as they take flight.
I’m—
“I wanted to address the Kelton event with you.”
I’m so fucked.
“Yes?”
Celine rolls her chair so she is facing me front on. She clasps her hands in her lap and levels her gaze at me, giving me her full attention in the most intimidating way possible.
She knows.
She knows I kissed her ex-husband, and she is going to fire me.
Maybe if I apologize first, maybe if I confess, she’ll let me off easy? Maybe she’ll let me quit so I can save my dignity and get another job without having this mar my resume. If she fires me and word gets out, no one will take me on. I’ll be viewed as an HR nightmare.
“Celine, I—”
“I wanted to apologize for my behavior that night. It was unsightly and unprofessional.”
What?
“I hadn’t seen my husband in ten years, and my emotions got the better of me.
It’s no excuse and not an example I would like to set for my employees, but it was brought to my attention that I should take the time to address it with you so there are no further issues.
” The cool indifference in her gaze chills me.
“I noticed you seemed uncomfortable during the meeting.”
Of course, she did.
“I didn’t know you were married.”
That’s not what I meant to say.
And definitely not the right thing to say, either, as the tail of Celine’s manicured right brow hitches ever so slightly.
“We’ve been separated for ten years. He’s not the type of person I like to waste my breath on.”
“Right.”
“I hope we can keep the incident private and move on. I have high hopes for you, Ms. Moore. It would be unfortunate if petty gossip stalled what I see as a flourishing career.”
“Of course. My lips are sealed.”
Lips that touched your ex-husband’s lips.
I want to bang my head on the desk.
“Good. You did well assisting Jenna on the Kelton project, and as I mentioned, new clients have stepped forward as a result. Big clients with big opportunities for the company, Team One, and for you.”
Is she serious?
“Nothing’s set in stone, and I would like the focus to be on pursuing Frankie Jones as of now. But so long as you continue on your path without causing any bumps, I see a bright road ahead.”
“Thank you, Celine. That means a lot.”
“Of course, we are a family here.” Her icy smile injects little warmth into the words she preaches almost daily.
I head back to my desk in a daze, head swimming with the hidden meaning behind everything Celine just said. I can’t tell whether I was threatened or praised.
My phone vibrates with an event reminder, and I hold it up to check what it is.
DINNER W/ CULLEN in 2 hours
Grief sinks my heart at the reminder of a date that isn’t going to happen, a date that can’t happen. Celine was ready to send me packing for even breathing a word about her fight with her ex. If she ever learns about our connection, she would probably murder me with her stiletto.
There is no way I can be with Cullen.