Chapter 11 #2
“There’s another reason I wanted to talk to you,” he said.
“As you know, your internship ends after the holidays. There are extremely limited openings on our permanent team, but we would love to bring you onboard as a junior nutritionist. HR will email you the official offer letter later today, but I wanted to tell you myself.”
My breath stalled. I blinked, my brain scrambling to reconcile his words with my earlier conviction that I’d be jobless come the new year.
Junior nutritionist. It was one step up from intern, but it was a job. A full-time, salaried one with benefits at a top Premier League club. I wouldn’t be forced to ask my dad for money or work under some gym bro named Chad.
This was what I wanted…so why were there knots in my stomach?
“That’s great!” I masked my conflicted feelings with semi-feigned excitement. “I’m honored. Thank you so much.”
We went over a few logistical details before Jones dismissed me. I returned to my office, the knots multiplying by the second. I couldn’t pinpoint where they were coming from, and it pissed me off.
What was wrong with me? Why couldn’t I be happy for once?
The job offer was a good thing. It proved that I deserved to be here—unless my dad broke his no-intervention rule and influenced their hiring decisions.
Unlikely, but possible. Or maybe Jones and HR factored in our relationship themselves and decided it would be bad form to essentially fire their boss’s daughter.
You’re an Armstrong. It’s a given.
My head pounded. I was dying to know whether Henry also got an offer, but he was already gone for the day.
For once, I would’ve appreciated his endless rambles. At least they would’ve saved me from my own thoughts.
I turned my computer off, grabbed my bag, and texted my group chat with Scarlett and Carina on my way out of the building. I’d planned to work on my ISNA essay tonight, but I didn’t want to be alone. Besides, regardless of how I felt about the Blackcastle offer, I should celebrate. Right?
I texted my friends to let them know about the offer.
They’d talk me up. I could always count on my friends for perspective, and—
“Want a ride?”
My steps faltered at the familiar voice.
I turned, my stomach tightening for an entirely different reason as Vincent sauntered toward me.
He’d changed out of his training kit and into a long-sleeved T-shirt and jeans.
A gym bag hung over his shoulder, and he looked infuriatingly gorgeous for someone who’d spent the afternoon running drills in freezing weather.
I shook my head. “I’m good. I drove to work.” Sometimes we carpooled, but those instances were rare since we didn’t want to tip my dad off to our living situation.
“Your car will still be here tomorrow. I can get you home much faster.” Vincent fell into step with me.
He smelled like clean soap and subtle cologne, an unexpectedly devastating combo that had me holding my breath in case it made me do something stupid, like take him up on his offer. “A Lambo beats a VW any day.”
“Speed limits still exist, you know.”
“Not for me. Kidding,” he said when I side-eyed him. “Though I bet I can talk my way out of any speeding ticket.”
“If you’re trying to convince me to ride with you, you’re failing miserably.
” I pushed open the double doors. A sudden gust of wind stole into my lungs, and I quickly picked up my pace.
This was my least favorite part about living in the UK.
When fall and winter hit, I was tempted to fly straight back to sunny San Diego.
“Besides, I’m not going home first. I’m celebrating with the girls.
” Scarlett and Carina hadn’t replied yet, but it was an easy excuse.
“Celebrating what?”
“Blackcastle offered me the junior nutritionist role. I just found out today.”
Vincent’s eyes brightened. “That’s amazing. Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
My mind flashed back to our night on the couch, when I’d admitted that I might have to leave the club soon.
I hope you stay at Blackcastle. It wouldn’t be the same without you.
I’d never admit it, but his words hit me in the feels at exactly the right time. I’d needed the reassurance more than I thought, and I hadn’t expected to get it from Vincent, of all people.
A golf ball lodged itself in my throat. He might have moved out by January, and if I turned down the offer, I wouldn’t see him every day anymore.
It wouldn’t be the same without you either. I hadn’t said those words out loud at the time, but I’d felt them deep in my gut. And that feeling was back in full force.
Vincent’s brows dipped. “You don’t sound too excited. I thought you wanted an offer.”
“I do. I mean…” I trailed off. The desire to spill all my woes to him crowded my throat, but I held back at the last minute.
The Blackcastle parking lot was not the right place to ambush someone with an impromptu therapy session.
“I need to think about it first. I don’t want to rush into a decision. ”
“I can help.” His dimple flashed. “Pros versus cons. Pro: stay, and you’ll see me every day, even after I move out. Con: leave, and you won’t.”
I laughed, my chest lightening for the first time since I left Jones’s office. “That’s not how a pro/con list works, but thanks. It did help. I guess I’m turning down the offer after all.”
“You say that now, but—” Vincent cut off abruptly.
We’d reached our cars, which were conveniently parked next to each other. I followed his stare to the hood of his Lamborghini, where a plain brown envelope was tucked beneath his windshield wipers.
It could be nothing, but considering what had happened the last time someone left him an unexpected gift, I understood why it’d freak him out.
Another chill swept through the lot. I shivered, missing the warmth of my cramped but heated office.
The muscles in Vincent’s neck stretched taut. His earlier playfulness disappeared as he walked over and retrieved the envelope. He opened it, his expression inscrutable.
The silence ballooned until I couldn’t take it anymore. “What does it say?”
His jaw flexed. After a tense beat, he handed me the note without a word.
I took it. A moment later, my blood iced because the “note” wasn’t a note at all—it was a photo of the doll his intruder had left him last month. It was propped against a plain white background with no distinguishing marks. Next to it, little round red marbles spelled out one sentence.
Did you like your gift?