Cassidy #3
“And I’m sorry I missed a meeting earlier with Evander, but I promise that I won’t ever let myself do that again. I’ll keep on top of everything, and not let anything slip through the cracks again.”
He breathes out a huff of air, and I tense, waiting for the angry snap from him. But instead, he carefully places his hand on my knee and gives me a tentative smile.
“I have never ever doubted you,” he says calmly. “And I can promise you, this job was earned by you and you alone. I pulled absolutely zero strings, okay?”
I don’t believe him, not even a little bit. Regardless of my attempts to keep our relationship under wraps, someone in HR or the hiring committee must have realised.
I don’t care what Harlan’s friend says—there is no way Harlan hand selected me.
“Now, you’ve shared a lot tonight, and whilst I’m not an alpha, I can still recognise when an omega is overwhelmed, so let’s get you home.”
“If there was more to do—”
“There’s not. I’d much rather get you home, and you can destroy my earbuds with that trashy music you love.” He waggles his brows at me, and I giggle as a memory of when I was around ten or eleven riding in his car one day and he was blasting some cheesy pop song.
He’s the one with the atrocious music taste—not me.
“Mhm,” I tease, rolling my eyes. “Do you mind if I run to the bathroom real quick first?”
He shakes his head. “I need to grab a few bits, so take your time.”
Gesturing to a door, I take the hint and slip inside, closing it softly behind me. The bathroom is as open as the rest of his office—clean lines, pale stone, everything exactly where it should be.
I grip the edge of the sink for a second, staring at my reflection, ashamed at the complete mess that I’ve allowed myself to become. My cheeks are flushed with shame, my eyes too bright hiding the guilt, and my shoulders tight with failure.
“Get it together,” I whisper to the woman looking back at me.
She doesn’t.
I turn the tap on and shove my hands under the cold water, the chill biting instantly. It helps—just enough to cut through the tightness in my chest. I cup some in my palms and press it to my face, dragging in a slow breath as it drips down my skin.
In.
Out.
In. Out.
Calm the fuck down, Cass.
I stay like that for a few seconds longer than necessary, letting the cold ground me, before finally straightening and shutting the tap off. My fingers smooth over my dress automatically, checking nothing looks out of place.
Like that’ll fix anything.
I open the door and step back out, not wanting to take too long when Sterling is probably eager to get home to his omega and son.
“— was moved to work under Mercer by Millie earlier this week.”
I freeze for half a second at the sound of Sterling’s voice, low and clipped as he finishes the sentence into his phone. He’s talking about me.
He has to be, right? Oh goodness.
What is he doing? Who is he talking to?
His head snaps up the second he sees me, tension vanishing just as quickly as it appeared, replaced by an easy grin.
“Thanks, Uri,” he says, already shifting tones. “I’ll see you in a bit. Kiss Dellan and Em for me.”
My cousin pockets his phone and his grin widens. “You good?”
I nod, not acknowledging I overheard a little of his conversation. No good will come from that.
“Perfect,” he says, grabbing a briefcase, and leads me out of his office.
He pauses briefly to speak with Jamie at the front desk. I stand awkwardly, my fingers twisting together as I try not to listen to their conversation.
I can’t listen to another thing I’m not meant to hear.
When Sterling returns, he guides me toward the private elevator with a gentle hand at the base of my spine.
“My mum said your folks are back in town,” he says. “How long are they staying for?”
And just like that, we’ve moved past all work talk completely, and I know he’s not going to push me any further tonight.
I should feel relieved.
I do feel relieved.
Chatting to him is easy, and it’s nice to catch up since it’s been a few months since we’ve talked properly.
But as the elevator doors slide open in the car park basement, Sterling turns his head slightly, his jaw tight enough to sharpen the line of his face. The hand at the base of my spine doesn’t move, gentle and steady as ever, but his scent changes.
Green tea and mint. Cooler now, even sharper, enough that the change prickles across my skin before I can stop reacting to it.
I glance up at him, my stomach dipping. “Are you okay, Sterling?”
His smile returns instantly, soft and cousinly and completely fake.
“Don’t worry, CeCe, I’ve never been better,” he says, and my stomach churns. That’s the kind of thing people say when there is very much something to worry about. “You know how much I love you, right?”
I nod, and he squeezes me briefly against his side, his scent wrapping around me before he lets go.
“Good girl. Now, tell me how I can get out of going to Eliza’s engagement party, and you’ll remain as my favourite.”
But no matter how hard Sterling tries to distract me, the feeling of dread only grows.