Chapter 30
Spencer
I f this were a movie, I would’ve stormed out the night Nathan verbally kicked me out. I would’ve found the strength to pack my suitcase, grabbed Charlie, and disappeared from his life dramatically, hoping he’d ache for eternity from the misery of losing me.
But this isn’t a movie. The flu is real.
And my boss most certainly isn’t miserable.
I was powerless to do anything except sleep and heal as Nathan tended to me silently.
Monday was bad, especially because of our fight.
Tuesday was even worse. My fever nearly sent me to the emergency room.
As angry as I was, I had to let Nathan be my knight in shining armor, getting Charlie sorted for school, and balancing around-the-clock care for me.
By Friday morning, finally my fever is gone and I’m able to see colors and somewhat taste coffee again.
Nathan and I hadn’t talked about our big blowout.
He hasn’t mentioned me leaving again, and based on the way he so sweetly cared for me, I get the impression he’s changed his mind.
But at this point, Charlie and I need to leave for my sanity more than his.
I didn’t think it was possible to really fall for someone before getting physical.
But here I am, feeling like a loser with an unrequited crush I can’t shake.
I need space. I need a new home, and most importantly, I need a new boss.
Moving a little slower than usual, I walk into work after dropping Charlie off at school.
My slacks feel saggy around the waist. The flu was a crash diet for me.
I could barely tolerate water. Too wrecked to argue, Nathan was able to force-feed me a little broth.
But after four days of a strictly liquid diet, my clothes are relaxing comfortably on my body again.
It won’t last. The minute I smell food, the weight will come right back on.
It always does. This is the endless cycle of chasing something that’s not meant for me. But I don’t know how to quit.
How do you quit being so aware of all the things you aren’t and don’t have?
I call the elevator with a push of the button. After selecting the top executive floor, I wait for the doors to close, but immediately push the open button when I hear a distant, “Hold the elevator, please.”
The doors don’t obey, so I stick my foot in between, forcing them to reopen. “I’ve got you,” I say to the man in a clean, beige suit jogging toward me. His blond hair is parted neatly and has so much gel it doesn’t move despite his quick pace.
“Thank you.” He hustles into the elevator.
“Sure. Which floor?”
He looks like a sales guy. He’s probably on the eighth floor. “Same as you.” He nods toward the already lit-up button. “Meeting my boss.” He turns his head, and his smile instantly fades when he sees me.
My spine tenses as we both recognize each other at the same time. I furiously press the “door open” button, but they’re determined to stay shut, and we ascend. I’m trapped here with the last man on the planet I want to see.
Casey Conrad.
Heart racing, fingers trembling, I look ahead, refusing to make eye contact. Like a muscle memory, my gut twists with shame, fear, and an overwhelming urge to flee.
“Spencer Riley,” he murmurs quietly. “I had no idea you work here.”
I try to say something. Anything. But this man knocks the wind from my lungs.
My throat feels choked, my thoughts sputtering, I’m just trying to keep my head above water.
Of all the times I fantasized about the day I’d see Casey again, it was never like this.
I was rail thin, a total knockout, machine gun in my hands, relishing in the fear in his eyes.
I hate him so much, I can taste bile in the back of my throat.
I’m holding my breath, counting each blink. Only two more floors and I’m free. I can panic and fall apart anywhere except in his presence. If he could just stand there staying quiet like that, I might actually be okay… If only .
“Hey, I don’t want any trouble,” he says, as if dead set on my sabotage. “Last time I saw you, you almost got me expelled. But it’s been years. We’re cool now, right?”
My jaw doesn’t drop . It unhinges and falls off. That’s his narrative? I wronged him ? I almost got him expelled?
He thinks we’re cool ?
The elevator dings louder than I swear it ever has, and the doors peel apart. Casey steps backward, holding out his hand, gesturing me forward. He ducks his head like a nobleman. “Ladies first, of course.”
I try to exit, but my legs are frozen, outside of the trembling.
The memories flash before me in the worst montage of my life.
The jeers, the moos, the humiliation when the dean asked me if I knew how inappropriate it was to be sending boys naked pictures.
The shock when people were more concerned about whether Casey could start the football season if I accused him of something.
He hurt me, and public opinion chose the quarterback superstar.
No one cared about the pudgy, vulnerable freshman who was borderline suicidal.
I hung my head in shame as if it were my fault Casey violated what I thought was private intimacy.
I never felt safe with a man again. He tainted my relationship with sex. He stole my innocence in so many more ways than he could fathom. Desperate, I call on my mom to hold me steady. Mama, don’t let me cry. Please, don’t let me cry in front of him.
With a steadying breath, I will my feet forward.
Tilting my chin up, I hold my head high, even though it feels awkward and forced.
There are so many things I want to say to him.
I should yell but the right words escape me.
Glancing at his outreached hand, I’m transported right back to the worst moments of my life.
“You don’t need to pretend to be a gentleman,” I say in a hushed tone, more for my sake than his. “I know exactly what you are.”
I walk away, not allowing myself to run. One step at a time, I put as much distance between me and Casey as I can. But with him in this office, it’s not possible. There could be an entire ocean separating us, and it still wouldn’t be enough space to put me at ease.
“We’d have to order the chloroform in small batches, collecting for a while,” Dawn says nonchalantly as I blink at her in horror. Her sinister side is showing. “If we order a big vat, it’ll raise suspicion.”
“Dawn, we’re not killing him.”
She holds up her finger. “Another idea. We get him belligerently drunk, take him to the zoo, and give him a friendly hip nudge right over the fence into the alligator enclosure.”
I tilt my head. “Those alligators are drugged. They have no appetite. And even if they did, Casey tastes repulsive.”
Dawn cringes. “Speaking from experience?”
No. Judging by the look she’s wearing, I know what part she’s referring to. I actually never put Casey’s dick in my mouth. It was my first time. I didn’t know what to do. “I’m assuming deceitful weasel leaves a bitter aftertaste.”
“Want me to go with you when you tell Nathan?” She finishes her salad, dropping her fork triumphantly into the empty plastic container. “I was starving.” She pushes back from her desk, holding her hands to her flat stomach.
I poke at my Baja chicken salad with black beans, dried jalapeno peppers, and chipotle-ranch dressing.
Normally, I’d dive in headfirst. I love when yummy foods hide themselves in salad.
The chunks of cotija cheese should be more than enough to beckon my appetite, but nothing.
I’m not sure if I’m still sick or if seeing Casey really shook me that bad.
“I’m not telling Nathan.”
“Casey makes you very uncomfortable. He can’t work here around you. If you’re worried about who Nathan will choose?—”
“I’m not.” I meet her gaze, trying to stick the landing on my lie.
Casey is a project manager helping with a billion-dollar new-build venture.
I don’t have that kind of experience. I’m replaceable.
But hearing Nathan say that would break me, so I’m not going to give him the opportunity.
“I contacted my old boss, Hank. He’s using a temp assistant right now and would love to have me back. ”
Dawn frowns. “You’re moving back to Miami?”
“I think it’s best.”
“For who?” she challenges. Sometimes I forget Dawn’s a mom and her bullshit-o-meter is fully calibrated.
“You can’t mean Charlie because she has a best friend here, her grades are good, she likes school, and the girl is nonstop smiling.
I know you can’t mean Nathan, because whether or not either of you wants to admit it, he’s far less of a brute with you around.
And I know you can’t mean me, Chelsea, and your other friends who treasure the moments we get to spend with you. ”
My lips flatten into a straight line. “You’re guilt-tripping me?”
“I’m trying to get you to face your trauma. I don’t want Casey to take anything more from you. If your mom were here, I bet you anything she’d tell you to stand your ground. You’re strong enough now and you’re not alone.”
“Dawn, it’s too late. I already quit.” In a fit of emotion, I emailed Nathan this morning and gave him my two weeks’ notice.
I haven’t gotten any real work done this morning.
I missed four days. I should’ve been catching up on emails and tasks, but instead, I was scouring my employment contract trying to figure out when I need to surrender my SUV and how much of my advance I’ll need to return.
Dawn’s desk phone rings. A disappointed stare locked on me, she reaches for the receiver, pressing the speaker button with her pinky. “Office of James Hatcher. This is Dawn.”
“Is Spencer with you?” Speak of the devil. Nathan sounds positively pissed.
Pausing, Dawn raises her brows at me, asking for permission to out me. I nod.
“She is.”
“Why isn’t she at her desk or answering her phone?”
“She’s on her lunch break. Calm down, Nathan.” Dawn flashes an angry look at the phone as if it’s culpable for Nathan’s grumpy mood. Except it’s my fault.
“Tell her to come to my office as soon as you guys are done.” He hangs up abruptly.
I shrivel in my seat, already regretting the mess I caused. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Dawn shrugs wordlessly.
“Are you mad at me too?” I ask softly.
“Yes,” she answers plainly. “But it’s because I’ll miss you, doll. My daughter is in a phase of independence. She needs room to become her own person, and I think I’ve used you to fill a hole in my life. But I like to think you needed me too.”
“I did… I do . We’ll stay in touch. Nothing has to change.”
“Of course.” She shows me a weak smile because we both know it’ll never be the same.
I stab my fork into my salad, forcing myself to take a bite. I’m going to eat this entire thing at the rate of a sloth. Because once lunch is over, I have no choice but to face the music.
That music? Nathan’s fury.