Chapter Fifty – Verity
CHAPTER FIFTY
VERITY
A pplying to jobs might actually be the death of me.
It’s been a month since that awful day in Celine’s office, and I’ve applied to over one hundred and six jobs, submitted ninety-seven design portfolios, had eleven interviews, and zero job offers. I knew the market was tough, but I didn’t think it was this tough.
Maybe I am being too ambitious. Maybe I need to take a lower role.
No.
No, I can’t do that. I can’t settle for less pay at a shittier job. Not only will it not help with my rent issue, but it would also just be embarrassing. I take pride in my work, and I know I would be an asset to someone…I just need to find the right fit.
Jenna agreed to be my reference, thankfully, and on paper, it just looks like I quit—not that I’ve been run out of my job.
However, there is still a chance that there are rumors floating around about me almost getting fired and that I slept with my boss’s ex.
Delute is well-known in the city, and while I’ve tried to apply to companies that have the least likelihood of ever crossing paths with Celine, there is no way to know for sure.
For all I know, she could be sabotaging me from the sidelines.
That, or maybe I’m not as good a designer as I thought. Maybe I’ve grown an inflated perception of myself while working at Delute. Maybe I am just mediocre in the grand scheme of all the other applicants.
The daily nausea I’ve been experiencing rolls through my gut. I paw through my handbag for an antacid and chew it.
I am probably taking too many of these things, but I don’t really have a better solution.
I shut my laptop and rest my cheek against the cool metal, staring out at the other patrons in the coffee shop.
Hannah made me leave the apartment this week.
She pulled me out of bed Monday morning, forced me into human clothes and makeup before dragging me onto the subway all the way to her office, got me a guest pass, and plopped me at an open desk.
After three days, I started to feel like I was overstepping.
Her coworkers were noticing, and while Hannah said it was no big deal—that she had forty guest passes that would just go to waste otherwise—I convinced her to let me camp out at the coffee shop across the street from her office.
I am mildly regretting my decision.
There is a couple making cute faces at one another while they swap pastries and try each other’s drinks.
It’s exactly what Cullen and I used to do.
Throwing myself into this job search is the only thing keeping me sane, the only thing preventing me from falling into a heartbroken, depressive spiral. But the moment I stop and take a breath, everything comes flooding back. My distractions are only a temporary fix.
I haven’t spoken to him in a month, and he hasn’t tried to contact me, other than that first week when he left a drunken voicemail.
I’ve listened to that message too many times.
I should probably delete it, but I can’t bring myself to.
His voice was so raw, so full of hurt and pain, but beneath it was desperate longing and unabashed desire. I know he is sorry. I know that he regrets not telling me the truth. I know he cares about me…that he loves me.
That is the worst part.
The last few words of the voicemail.
“Verity, I know I shouldn’t be calling you.
I know you said not to contact you. But I’m dying over here, angel.
The world is boring without you in it. Food tastes like ash.
Sleep is filled with nightmares of you walking away again and again.
I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up the most I have in my entire life.
I’ve never truly regretted any of my decisions before, but I regret hurting you and only giving you half-truths.
I promised I would keep you safe, and I failed.
I hate myself for that. But please, don’t hate me, too.
I’ll hate myself enough for the two of us, so don’t hate me, Verity.
Don’t look at me like I’m the worst person to have ever walked into your life.
I love you, and I don’t think I could bear to keep breathing if you hated me. I…”
I don’t hate him.
I want to. I really, really want to. I’ve spent the last four weeks telling myself to forget him, telling myself that I can’t be with a man who lied to me. Because what’s to stop him from lying to me again?
I’ve always been the type to forgive and forget, but everyone just walks all over me. All the guys I’ve dated before tossed me to the side without a second thought. I’m replaceable.
I don’t want to feel like that again.
I want to be the first choice. I want to be the person they can’t stop thinking about.
I want to be the one they care for, because all my life I’ve cared about everyone else, and I just want a break.
I worry every second of the day if what I’m doing is right, and I just want someone to hold me tight and tell me they’ve got me.
I spend all my energy trying to be successful, trying to live up to the expectations I’ve placed on myself. And the one time I was selfish, the one time I allowed myself to follow my heart, I ended up falling from the ladder I’ve been climbing, landing on my ass.
And now I’m back at square one. With no job. No money. No nothing.
It sucks.
I wish someone would help me without me needing to ask, and I can’t deny that Cullen showed me he could be that person.
Ever since I met him, he has done all the little things.
He hears what I say when I don’t even speak a word.
He has never given up on me.
Would it be so bad if I forgave him?
I squeeze my eyes shut and let out a deep sigh. I don’t need this added existential romantic crisis on top of everything else I am dealing with. I need a job; that is my priority. As much as I want to deal with the Cullen issue, I can’t do that if I’m not even able to get my own life sorted.
“Excuse me, Verity?”
I bolt up, almost clocking the person in the chin with my forehead.
“Garrett?”
The real estate star gives me his signature swoon-worthy grin as he pulls out the chair opposite me. “Mind if I take a seat?”
“Uh, no. Go for it.”
This is random. Are their offices around here? I would’ve thought someone like Garrett would be constantly at showings or at least busy in front of the camera for the show.
I dart my eyes around for a hidden videographer or something.
I’d realized quickly that the only reason why there were pictures of Cullen and me at the gala was because we’d stepped into the Manhattan Millions bubble.
It should’ve occurred to us sooner that they are always in the public eye.
It was a misstep on both our parts. A few people in the café are staring at us, but it’s more so due to Garrett’s notoriety than anything else.
Garrett stifles a small laugh, and I self-consciously smooth down my hair, running a hand over my ponytail.
“What?”
“There’s an imprint on your cheek from the laptop.”
“Oh my God.”
I grab my phone, opening the camera app to see exactly what he is talking about.
Sure enough, there is a bright red line running down the center of my cheek. Just great. I press my fingers against the line, willing it to go away.
“So, what’s up?”
He crosses his forearms, resting them on the table, and leans forward. His full attention creates this undeniable aura, and I have no doubts as to why he is as successful as he is. I feel like this man could sell you a house on fire.
“You said you work in design branding, right?”
“Yeah.”
Although, I’m currently unemployed .
“We’ve been discussing a rebrand of the company. With the next season of the show beginning filming in a few months and the expansion to the Miami and Malibu branches, we want something fresh but cohesive across all three.”
“Miami and Malibu?”
He grins and leans in even closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. “This stays between us, but they’re going to be creating a spin-off for Malibu Millions and Miami Millions .”
“Really?”
Oh my God, Hannah is going to absolutely die when I tell her!
“Yeah. Steven and I have been talking to Nick about it; he’s Harver Group’s CEO.
When we met you at the gala the other week and saw the work you did for Jace, we made a note to show him your profile.
He was impressed. We know you’re at Delute, so we’d be happy to come in and chat about hiring your agency for the project, with the stipulation that you be the lead.
Does that sound interesting to you at all? ”
“Oh.”
Garrett must take my embarrassment as hesitation because he keeps trying to sell me on the project even though I would’ve agreed to it without half the details he already gave me.
“I know it’ll be a bit of a longer project than you’ve done before since we are looking at the brand across three separate subcompanies, but—”
“No, no that’s not it.” I curl my fingers in my lap, trying not to wince. “It’s just that I no longer work at Delute.”
“Did you move companies?”
“No, I…I quit.”
I give him the most awkward smile known to man, and it makes me want to jump into a hole and bury myself with dirt.
“Ah, I see.” He nods like he totally understands, which is most assuredly not the case. “So, you’ve gone freelance. Good on you. That takes a lot of guts, but it must be rewarding being your own boss.”
Okay, no.
“Do you have an hourly rate for your freelance work, or is there a flat fee depending on the project? We can send a formal proposal for you to look over, and you can let us know. Honestly, this will probably be a lot easier than having to go through Delute. Nick didn’t seem too pleased about having to hire them in order to work with you, so it’s a win-win situation. Don’t you agree, Verity?”
I have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on right now.
What I do understand is that there is a job falling into my lap right now, and I’d be bonkers not to accept.
“Sure.”
“Great.” He reaches into his suit jacket for his wallet and pulls out a business card. “Here, in case you have any questions. You can contact me via phone or email, whatever suits you best.”
“Thanks.”
I take the card, running my finger over the embossing. The logo for Harver Group is quite basic and outdated. The font looks like Garamond, and nothing about it sets it apart from other companies.
“I have to head to the High Line to inspect the apartments of a new building in the area, but give me a buzz, okay? I’ll let Nick know you’re open.”
He exits with a quick wave of his hand, leaving me to my stunned stupor.
What the hell just happened?