Chapter 7 #2
Seb is already at his desk when I arrive, his wavy brown hair resembling something close to a bird’s nest. I’m at least fifteen minutes late, thanks to my detour to the senior executive level.
Mark’s coat is strewn over his chair, but he’s nowhere to be seen.
I make a mad dash for my desk, diving onto my chair, powering up my laptop in record time, safely in place before Mark ambles back with a coffee in hand.
He doesn’t comment when he sees me, so I must be safe for now.
“That’s the fastest I’ve seen you move since Papa John’s did that two-for-one deal.” Seb snickers.
“Yeah, thank god Mark didn’t notice. Must be my lucky day.” I navigate straight to my emails, scrolling down until I click on HR. A gigantic grin fills my face when I see my pay increase confirmed in black and white. This is going to help a lot.
“What are you doing this weekend, Seb? Fancy another soccer game?”
“For sure. Who knew it could be so thrilling?” He grins, leaning back in his chair, his arms folded behind his head. “Tell your sister I’m printing T-shirts with her face on them.”
I freeze, horror creeping across my face. “She’d never speak to us again, Seb.”
He bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “I’m joking. Do you think I have time to swan about printing T-shirts? I can barely find time to buy my own clothes.”
“Hey, I just remembered,” I say, glancing at my phone as a reminder pops up. “I’m meeting Millie for coffee after work. Want to join?”
“Oh, no, sorry,” he says, his face turning serious. “I’ve got my advanced origami class.”
“Really?” I can’t tell if he’s joking or not. Most of the time, Seb’s a teenager trapped in a twenty-six-year-old’s body.
“You’re so gullible, Vi.” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “I’ll be there.”
The rest of the day passes in a blur, each hour consumed by the Monarch contract.
I get lost in the details—fine-tuning algorithms, running tests, and ensuring every parameter is perfect.
It’s the kind of work that requires patience, but I enjoy the challenge.
There’s something satisfying about watching everything fall into place, piece by piece.
The more I refine it, the more I sense I’m getting closer to something perfect.
When home time rolls around, I’m gasping for coffee, the dull ache behind my eyes pulsing in time with my exhaustion. Seb and I hurry to our favorite coffee spot across from Knightwell, the rich scent of espresso pulling me in like a lifeline.
Millie waves us over from a corner booth, two coffees and a plate of brownies already waiting.
“Thank you, Millie. You are an angel,” I sigh, sliding into my seat and wrapping my hands around the warm cup.
“I wouldn’t say an angel,” Seb smirks. “Have you seen her on Monday mornings?”
“Shut it, Seb,” Millie says, stabbing her fork into a brownie, cooing at the warm, gooey center.
“So,” Millie begins, like she always does when she has juicy gossip. “I heard someone stormed into Chase’s office today. No appointment.” She shoots me a pointed stare, waiting for me to crack.
I sip my coffee, feigning innocence, willing her to move on.
“Surely, no one would be stupid enough to do that,” Seb muses, tugging off his glasses to wipe off the steam from the coffee.
“Yes, Violet,” Millie presses. “Surely they wouldn’t?”
I groan, throwing my hands up. “Okay, it was me. How did you find out?”
“Bethany told me. She said she couldn’t believe her eyes. And then Chase... just let you.” She frowns, a tinge of disgust in her tone that’s unlike her.
“Why do you seem mad at me?” I ask, chewing the edge of my thumb.
“Damn, Vi,” Seb mutters. “Are you trying to get fired again?”
“It was a misunderstanding. I thought he wanted to see me.” The lie slips out before I can stop it. Millie doesn’t know about my job at Velvet Lounge, and I’m embarrassed to reveal how bad things had gotten.
Millie assesses me for a long moment. Her eyes narrowed. She’s kind of scary when she has her mom hat on. She exhales, placing her cup down with a little too much force.
“You need to stay away from Chase.” There’s an edge to her tone now, firmer than before. “Because he ruins women, Violet. He makes them think they’re special, then moves on like they were nothing.”
“Why are you bringing that up?” I scoff. “That’s got nothing to do with me.”
“Yeah,” Seb agrees, laughing like it’s the most ridiculous idea ever. “Can you imagine Violet and Chase?”
“Yes, I can. That’s the problem,” Millie asserts. “And you must have heard the rumor about the woman from Sales?”
Seb and I exchange glances. “No,” we say in unison.
She rolls her eyes. “Of course, I forgot that I.T. is living under a rock most of the time.” She leans in, lowering her voice.
“The rumor going around is that they had a secret thing going, but as soon as people started whispering, he dumped her, breaking her heart. She even left the company and moved to another state.”
Seb pulls his chair in, tapping out a drum roll with his fingers. “Do you think he secretly offed her?”
I burst out laughing, but Millie just keeps glaring at me like I’ve announced I’m off to Vegas to elope in an Elvis-themed wedding.
“Can we talk about something else?” I say, sick of the direction of this conversation.
“All that’s happened with Chase and me is moving from mutual hatred to civility.
Happy now?” I jab my fork into the brownie and break off a large piece, offering it to Millie.
“Now eat the brownie and stop being such a drama queen.”
She finally relents, a slow smile spreading across her face. “Just looking out for the people I love.”
Seb makes a gagging face, and with that, harmony is restored just as my cell rings with an unidentified number.
“Hello,” I say, pressing my finger into my ear to drown out the busy coffee shop.
“Miss. Harper?” A man’s voice crackles from the other end. “This is your property maintenance company. Just calling to inform you that the security light you requested for the entrance has been installed.”
“I requested a security light?” I repeat with confusion.
“Yes, a gentleman phoned this morning. Your husband? I didn’t catch his name. He said it was urgent.”
“Oh, I see, thank you,” I say, my pulse kicking up so hard it thumps through my entire body. I end the call, placing my phone out of sight as if it’s about to spill all my dirty secrets.
“Who was that?” Millie asks through a mouthful of brownie.
“Nobody interesting. Just property maintenance.”
I squirm as she observes me for a beat before she quickly returns to the plate of brownies with a shrug.
Chase? It couldn’t be, could it?
I dismiss it. Most likely, it was our landlord. Just a coincidence. And after what Millie said, I’d be a fool to entertain any crazy ideas.
Losing Mom already shattered my heart in two. I’m not strong enough to risk breaking what’s left.