Chapter Twenty-Two
Sloane had zero interest in going back to the office this morning, but Lisa owed her a two-week holiday and this time she wasn’t going to let that debt slide. She was about to collect, no questions asked. Two weeks of lounging by the beach was at stake.
Sloane pressed the elevator button and watched the numbers descend.
While she waited, she checked her phone for the millionth time that morning and for the millionth time, was disappointed to see the empty screen.
No calls from Kendall. No texts from her either.
Nothing but radio silence. Which, honestly, spoke more volumes than the loudest argument could ever convey.
Robbie was wrong. Kendall didn’t bring the sun into her life.
Or even if she did, she had eclipsed it with something darker.
This was all clearly just a game to the woman. The documentary. Them.
Kendall could easily go back to her job at the fire station and pretend the last two weeks hadn’t happened.
She could pass it off as some daydream she had while she waited for a fire alarm to sound.
But this documentary, her job as a filmmaker, meant everything to Sloane.
The voices of those brave female firefighters, those families whose homes were destroyed, whose loved ones had died, would forever sing in her mind.
Just like she could never forget Kendall.
The woman had taken up real estate and evicting her would be like trying to uproot a tree with her bare hands.
Impossible.
Kendall was simply impossible to forget.
The elevator doors slid open, and Louise walked out.
Sloane hadn’t expected to run into her. Usually, she was so adept at avoiding the woman, but this morning she hadn’t even bothered to check for that blue BMW or ask the receptionist if Louise was in. The encounter was horrifically unavoidable.
Louise was staring at the marble floor as she stepped out, but as soon as she flipped her hair and glanced up, her eyes locked onto Sloane’s.
She froze. They both did. They just watched each other for a few short, agonizing seconds while Sloane tried to figure out how to make herself small, like an ant, and hide between the floorboards.
But there was no hiding.
Just like there wasn’t any reason to hide.
All that anger Sloane had felt toward Louise, that stinging pain that once ate her from the inside out, was gone.
It had disappeared into nothing but a tiny prick.
It was so small it felt more like a blade of grass scratching against her thigh.
Robbie might have been wrong about Kendall, but he was right about Louise.
There had been no love left at the end of their relationship, just bitter resentment.
And for some reason, resentment was easier to let go of.
“Hi,” Sloane muttered, stepping past her into the elevator. She turned around and stuck her arm out to keep the doors from closing. “How are you doing?”
Louise, who had swiveled to face Sloane, looked surprised by the interaction, which was to be expected since the last time they spoke, Sloane had keyed her car. “Good,” she said, nodding. “Fine. Can’t complain.”
“Good,” Sloane replied, not sure if there was anything more to say than that.
She was finally able to end that chapter of her life. Place the book Sloane & Louise Happily Never After back onto the shelf, never to be read again.
Sloane was just about to let the doors slide closed when Louise stepped forward, sticking her foot out over the metal strip. “I know what I did hurt you, Sloane, and I need you to know that I regret hurting you in that way.”
“Don’t sweat it,” Sloane said. She was quite surprised at her casualness, at the absence of her drumming heart, or her fluttering stomach.
In fact, she felt nothing at all. “I should’ve seen the signs long before you did what you did with Peach.
We were never meant to be, and I shouldn’t have forced it like I did. ”
“Truce?” Louise asked, biting that thick lip of hers.
“As long as we stay out of each other’s way.”
Louise nodded and then smiled faintly before stepping back.
The elevator doors slid closed, and Sloane stuck her fingers against button number eighteen. By the time she walked out onto the eighteenth floor, there was a little bounce in her step, as if she’d just conquered the world. The absence of any sort of feelings toward Louise was downright liberating.
But then she remembered the failed documentary. She remembered the way she and Kendall had left things, and her steps suddenly felt a whole lot heavier.
As usual, she didn’t greet anyone when she walked past cubicles and offices and instead of walking into hers, slamming down her bag, she walked right past it to Lisa’s.
The redhead was sitting at her desk, clicking away on her keyboard as usual. She looked up when Sloane marched into the room and grinned, her pearly whites shining brightly. “Just the woman I was looking for.”
“I’m taking a holiday,” Sloane said without waiting to find out why Lisa was looking for her. “It’s been two years since I’ve taken a vacation and every time I try, you either push on new work or you guilt trip me into staying. Not this time.”
“Fine,” Lisa said stiffly. She was the kind of boss who preferred her employees to be workaholic zombies. The kind who were endlessly available and ideally powered by coffee and sheer will alone. The very definition of the old Sloane.
“And I want three weeks,” Sloane said.
“Two. It’s non-negotiable.”
Ugh! If there was one woman Sloane had trouble standing up to, it was Lisa fucking McQueen.
“Fine. Two weeks,” she relented, ready to get the hell out of the building. “I’m starting now. I’m already booked at the Four Seasons. They’re expecting me, hopefully with an entire jug of margarita.”
“You’ll have to cancel,” Lisa smirked, clasping her hands together, her two index fingers poking into her bottom lip.
“Why?” Sloane sputtered. Didn’t she deserve a fricken vacation after everything she’d been through? Didn’t she deserve to drown her misery in alcohol, embrace the tears that would no doubt follow, and finally detox from Kendall Wilde? “You just said I could take a holiday.”
“You have a lot of work to do, Sloane. The wildfire documentary’s going to be taking all your time over the next few weeks or even months as we get ready to launch.”
“Hold on a minute,” Sloane said, lifting up a finger to stop Lisa before she made a fool of herself. The documentary was canceled. The funding was pulled. There was no reason to spend any time on it. “I think you might’ve knocked your head, Lisa.”
She laughed. “Evans Wilde called this morning. He said he made a mistake. Not only is he supporting the documentary, but he’s doubling the funding.”
“Doubling?” Sloane gaped, completely shocked. She had to reach for the doorframe to keep herself from toppling over from the sheer power of the news.
“You better cancel that reservation at the Four Seasons, Dear. You’ve got work to do.”
Sloane nodded. She didn’t even mind that her holiday was once again put on the back burner. This was fantastic news. The documentary was back on. Even a jug of margarita and a poolside lounge chair couldn’t compare.
Sloane was just about to go_she had calls to make, people in the industry to visit_when she turned back and said, “Lisa?”
“Yes?” Lisa said, barely looking up from her screen. As usual, she was addicted to her technology. “Do you need anything else?”
When this documentary is done, I quit.
Fine, Sloane didn’t actually say it out loud, but she wanted to, so very badly. Maybe one day she would. Instead, she shook her head and walked out.
~~
Sloane felt surprisingly exhausted for so early in the morning.
But as soon as she had stepped back into the elevator, her body had given in to all the events that had happened over the last twenty minutes—the chat with Louise, the news from Lisa, the sudden revelation that she didn’t want to work for Phantom Rise Media anymore.
Three big fat surprises to start her day.
But honestly, she was fucking happy.
When the fresh morning air hit her face, she took in a mighty gulp, did a little swirl like Renee Barrett in I Feel Pretty, and headed to her Jeep.
Whatever had changed Evans’ mind, well, Sloane didn’t care. She’d kiss his feet if she ever met him or kick him in the rear. She’d decide the appropriate response when the time came. All she could do now was celebrate the small—
“What are you doing here?” Sloane said, stopping in her tracks.
Ahead of her, leaning against Sloane’s Jeep, was none other than Kendall Wilde, who could change tires, who had a weird obsession with Dolly Parton, who had made Sloane’s heart gallop like wild horses, and who had taken a knife and cut it right down the middle of her heart when she had lied.
A lie that seemed so silly now after the surprises of the morning, because it wasn’t hurtful but rather protective. Robbie had been right. It made perfect sense.
But then why wasn’t Sloane throwing her bag down on the ground, scooping Kendall into her arms, and kissing her so hard their lips bruised?
“I thought you might be here,” Kendall said, stepping forward.
“Seeing as you weren’t at your house.” She was wearing linen shorts and a blouse.
Her toned legs glowed a shimmery gold. And those eyes, those gorgeous amber eyes, were catching the light in such a way that Sloane lost the air in her lungs.
She had to open her mouth to suck in more.
“You went to my house?” Sloane frowned, digging the keys from her handbag to distract herself from those eyes, those legs. “Why?”
“Because I wanted to see you.” Kendall took another step forward and, for some reason, Sloane stepped back, expanding the gap. It was as if she was creating some sort of safety barrier between them.
“You haven’t called,” Sloane muttered. “Or texted.”
“You strike me more as someone who prefers face-to-face conversations.”
Kendall was right. Texting was never her forte. It was nearly impossible to express anything meaningful with a string of words or a bunch of silly emojis. And if Robbie sent her that blasted frozen face emoji one more time, she might just lose it.
“It’s been almost two days, Kendall,” Sloane said, not buying it. “You could have at least called. Or even showed up at my house with a boom box or sent a card saying you’re sorry.”
“I know,” Kendall said, looking terribly sorry. “But I needed to make things right first. I didn’t want to show up before I fixed what I broke.”
“You didn’t break anything,” Sloane said. “You chose to follow your dream. You chose your passion, firefighting, over your dad’s expectations.”
And then it hit her. The revived funding, the documentary back in action, that was all Kendall. She was the one who had convinced Evans to reignite the project. But how? What did she have to sacrifice?
“The documentary is back up,” Sloane said, dangling the keys in her hand. Though the last thing she wanted was to leave.
“I know,” Kendall smiled. “I also know that you might not want to work with me again.”
“We’re colleagues,” Sloane replied, glancing down at her feet. She couldn’t risk Kendall seeing something more in her eyes. “We can keep it professional. Besides, we both started the documentary, and we need to finish it… together.”
“But what if I don’t want to be just colleagues?” Kendall muttered, her voice softer and raspy. “What if I want to be more than that?”
Sloane blinked, utterly thrown. More than colleagues? Was she implying friends? Because honestly, Sloane thought they were way beyond that. “What are you saying, Kendall?”
“I’m saying that I’m in love with you,” Kendall said, stepping forward. This time, Sloane didn’t move. She only embraced the closeness.
The words hung in the air for a brief second, and suddenly, it felt like everything around them vanished. It was just the two of them now.
“You’re…” Sloane’s breath hitched. “You’re… in love with me?”
Kendall nodded, her fingers fidgeting at her sides.
“Very much so. And if you don’t mind, I need you to tell me how you feel about me right now.
” She suddenly fanned her face, which was going its characteristic beetroot red.
“Because this is actually a lot harder than I thought it would be. I mean, what if you don’t feel the same way about me?
” She breathed out hard, doubled over briefly, then straightened up and fanned her face. “How do people do this?”
Without wasting another second—and to put sweet Kendall out of her misery—Sloane stepped forward and reached out. Her hands framed Kendall’s face, pulling her closer.
“I’m in love with you too,” she whispered as she leaned in, brushing her lips over Kendall’s.