Chapter 28
Brielle
I slip into my shoes from yesterday and take the premade protein shake off the counter.
Damian makes one for me every day before work.
Most mornings, he drives me into work with him.
He goes in first while I grab a coffee and pastry from the café on the corner, but this morning, he had a meeting that he needed to get to, so he left early.
It’s the first time I’ve been alone in his apartment since we started having sleepovers a few weeks ago. We haven’t put a label on this or discussed what we’re doing, other than having a damn good time together. But him leaving me alone here this morning feels like a step toward something serious.
I tuck in the button-down that I stole from his closet and bring up the ride share app on my phone. The one that Damian made me attach his credit card to so that I could get to the office this morning since I’m too far to walk from his place.
The office is already bustling when I show up. I spend my mornings working with Rui and Erica, so I head to the accounting department’s shared office as soon as I get in.
“Morning, Bri,” Erica calls.
“Good morning.” I smile at them both.
“Still grinning like a fool, I see,” Rui laughs. “Glad to see things are going well with you and the mystery man.”
“They are.” I tuck a lock of hair out of my face.
They pick on me about how giddy I’ve been lately—apparently, lots of great sex will do that to me—but they haven’t pushed about who he is.
I still have him listed as Valentine in my phone, not that either Rui or Erica are looking over my shoulder as we work.
The sound of his steady footfall catches my attention.
Despite spending every evening with him, I still can’t wait to see him every day at the office.
He stops at the office down the hall, where one of our marketing teams sits.
He doesn’t even look my way as he passes my door, but the energy between us crackles.
God, even his back is hot. But what’s even hotter is knowing that beneath that shirt are the scratch marks left behind by my nails.
I drag my eyes back to my computer while he discusses the next implementation of their project.
“Brielle,” he calls harshly. “Can you come here, please?”
I meet him in the hallway, a fake smile plastered on my face for being summoned so rudely. “Yes, sir. What can I do for you?”
He looks down at me with those heavy brows and no-nonsense expression, but his eyes spark quickly before he continues on like normal.
“I want you to be involved in the Heartland campaign. Aaron should have all the research needed for you to get started. Go over what Brian and Kyle have already and see what we can do to make it better.”
Brian and Kyle have been working on the bath and body company’s campaign for weeks.
During our weekly conferences, where each team presents the progress on our accounts, I’ve witnessed the many times Damian has had to redirect their vision or straight up squash one of their designs.
I’m not shocked that Damian wants to put someone else on their team for guidance, but I’m not sure it should be me.
“Mr. Edgerton,” I start. “I’m happy to help any way I can, but are you sure I’m the right fit? I’m still learning, and between the Vitales’ portfolio and accounting…”
It’s a conversation we’ve already had. I’ll always do everything I can to help anyone, but going back to working through the night to get everything done isn’t going to happen.
“Rui,” he calls, ignoring my comments.
“Yes, sir?”
“Tell HR to post a staff accountant’s position again. We’ll need to backfill Brielle since she’ll be moving to marketing full-time going forward.”
What? Just like that? I would love to drop the accounting functions and work full-time in marketing.
I’ve learned so much in the last few weeks from Trent and Danielle, and I think I could be really good at it with a little more experience behind me.
Working on another account would be super helpful in gaining that experience, designing content that needs to fit a completely different brand and demographic.
But I can’t help but wonder if I was selected because of our relationship.
He should have asked Trent or Danielle to join their team as an additional resource, not come to me.
“Da.. Mr. Edgerton, can I talk to you?” I ask, my eyes drilling holes into his skull.
He looks down at his watch. “I have a meeting that I need to get to. If it’s about compensation, we can discuss that at another time.
I’ll have HR send you an official job request for you to review.
In the meantime, please get started with the Heartland account.
” He turns to Brian and Kyle. Brian’s mouth hangs open, his eyes round as he listens to Damian push me onto his team without their input.
Kyle, on the other hand, looks utterly pissed.
His hard eyes stare me down, nostrils flaring in barely contained rage.
“Brielle will be the point person going forward.”
Damian spins on his heels and walks down the hallway, like he didn’t just disrupt multiple people’s day.
I smile tentatively at Brian and Kyle, getting no response back. This is going to be the opposite of fun, I can tell already.
The temperature in the room never made it above freezing all morning.
Brian placated every suggestion I had, never providing any actual opinions or feedback, all while wearing an obviously fake smile.
I tried to engage with him, asking him directly for his thoughts, but he was so overly accommodating it was useless.
And Kyle… He’s just pissed. He isn’t even bothering to pretend to work with me, his arms crossed, a scowl glued to his face.
We need to work as a team, but winning him over is going to be a challenge.
A challenge that would be made easier if I had Brian on board, but that doesn’t look likely right now either.
We break for the day by early afternoon, and I track down Aaron in the research department for any of the files he has on Heartland.
“Knock, knock,” I say, tapping my knuckles on the doorframe of his office.
“Hi, Brielle. I’m guessing you’re here for this?” He smiles and hands me a manila folder. Pages and pages of documents about Heartland’s business as well as their competitors, including their history, product lines, potential celebrity collaborations, and demographics.
“This is great. Thank you so much. How did you know?”
“Everyone knows. I heard from Margery, who heard from Taylor, who was talking to Janessa about it. Word travels fast around here, especially when there’s a shake-up.” He shrugs.
“I’m not trying to shake anything up,” I tell him. “I know that Brian and Kyle do great work. I’m excited to work with them on this.”
That’s not totally the truth. I am excited to work on this. And maybe if my teammates didn’t despise me for leapfrogging into the leadership role, I would be excited to work with them. But as it stands right now, I’m just trying to keep my head above water and get through the day.
“Yeah, they’re good people. You’ll love it.” He’s so genuine that I have to wonder if we’re talking about the same people.
“Thanks again.”
I take my homework, passing the kitchen on my way back to my office.
The smell of someone’s leftovers makes my mouth water and my stomach grumble.
I didn’t bring a lunch with me, but Damian always keeps the kitchen stocked with plenty of food for the employees.
I grab a premade salad from the refrigerator and find the Catalina dressing on the door.
“Hmph,” someone huffs behind me.
Devin strides into the kitchen, the look of contempt I’m already getting used to permanently etched on his face.
“Devin,” I greet him coolly.
“Take someone else’s job, huh? Is Satan going to have you closing on deals for the sales team next?”
I roll my eyes and plaster a smile on my face. “Yes, a congratulations is in order. Thank you,” I say sweetly. “I was invited to join another marketing campaign.”
“You didn’t join the team, you’re heading the team,” he spits out. A snide smirk pulls at his lips as he looks me up and down. “Funny what sleeping with the boss will get you.”
My heart plummets, landing with a thud in my stomach. Heat rises to my face, which is weird because it feels like all of my blood has drained from my body. I keep my composure as I stare him down.
“Excuse me? What did you say?”
My mind races with what to say. I didn’t get this role because of my relationship with Damian.
At least, I don’t think so. Damian is too business oriented, too smart, to risk poor marketing to a client just to give his girlfriend a new account to manage.
He trusts that I can handle it. He trusts me.
“You heard me. You show up here with his cup. In his shirt.” He lowers his eyes to my button-down, the one I pulled from Damian’s closet this morning, looking down at me.
He takes a step closer, and my feet freeze.
My pulse beats rapidly in my throat, blood rushing in my ears.
“I should have had that job. I’ve been working here for two years in the research department.
I’ve earned that move, and you come in, batting your eyelashes, and sweep it out from under my feet.
That’s bullshit.” He seethes. His hands fist at his side, but as much as I want to, I don’t take a step back.
“You might have this office fooled, everyone singing your praises since day one, but I know better,” he whispers.
“You come in here, trying to show everyone up, taking on jobs that have nothing to do with you. Look at me. Look what I can do. Just wait until everyone finds out how you really got that job.”
I find my voice, standing my ground. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.
If I have the same cup as somebody else, it’s because we shop at the same store.
And really? A blue button-down is some sort of proof to you, like they don’t line department stores with them?
It’s hurtful, inappropriate, and, quite frankly, childish of you to jump to me having an affair with the CEO simply because you can’t handle the fact that I’m in the position you wish you were,” I tell him, my voice coming out strong and confident despite the spike in anxiety flowing through me.
“The idea that I would sleep my way to the top is disrespectful to both me and Mr. Edgerton. I’d love to see how he reacts when word gets back to him that someone is telling nasty rumors that he makes his business decisions in the sheets. ”
Devin’s face pales. He didn’t think of that, did he?
“So, you’re going to deny it, then?”
I grab my salad from the counter, stalling. I hate lying, but I certainly can’t tell the truth either. My mind spins, fragments of thoughts swirling in my head like a tornado. I feel dizzy. The allegations—accurate ones—drain the blood from my body.
“I’m not going to confirm or deny anything.
Feeding into your rumors holds absolutely no appeal to me.
I don’t owe you the details of my sex life.
” I walk past him on my way out of the kitchen, stopping next to him to add, “But I’ll tell you this.
If I was sleeping with Satan, I’d be a lot more careful if I were you. ”
I walk out without looking back, the picture of confidence and poise.
If only that was how I was actually feeling. Because right now, all I’m feeling is fear, anxiety, and self-doubt.