Chapter 18 #4
I dry the container in silence, processing his words. He’s right, and I hate that he’s right. I do use my achievements as armor. Every degree, every promotion, every small victory—they’re proof that my mother was wrong, that I didn’t break, that I’m worth something.
“Show me,” I say finally.
“Show you what?”
“Your portfolio. This mysterious business empire you’ve built in secret.”
He gives me a long look, like he’s trying to decide whether I’m mocking him. Finally, he pulls his phone from his pocket and opens an app.
“Here.” He hands it to me, our fingers brushing as I take it.
I scroll through his portfolio, and my mouth literally falls open. Campaign after campaign for brands I recognize—luxury fashion houses, tech companies, high-end restaurants. The work is sophisticated, creative, polished. Professional in a way that makes my chest tight with respect.
Or attraction. God, competence is sexy.
One campaign in particular catches my eye—a marketing strategy for Lumina Luxury Watches that’s absolutely brilliant. The tagline, the imagery, the social media integration. It’s the kind of work that wins awards.
“Holy shit, Caleb.” I look up at him, genuinely impressed. “This is incredible.”
He’s watching my face carefully, like he’s trying to gauge whether I’m being sincere. “You sound surprised.”
“I am surprised.” I hand him back his phone as we head to the living room. “Maybe you weren’t as much of a lazy college bum as I liked to believe.”
“Wow.” His grin is pure mockery. “You’re so good at apologizing, I should take notes. Really, that was beautiful. I’m practically in tears.”
I grab a throw pillow from the nearby chair and hurl it at his head with deadly accuracy. It hits him square in the face, and he staggers backward dramatically.
“Ow! Assault! I’m calling the police!”
“You deserved it.” But I’m laughing despite myself. “That was not an apology.”
“No?” He picks up the pillow and tosses it back at me. I catch it easily. “Then what was it?”
“Acknowledgment.” I set the pillow aside and lean against the counter, crossing my arms. “There’s a difference.”
“Enlighten me.”
“An apology would be ‘I’m sorry I underestimated your professional capabilities.’” I tilt my head, studying him. “Acknowledgment is ‘I was wrong about something specific, and I’m adjusting my opinion accordingly.’”
“And which am I getting?”
“I already told you. Acknowledgment. Maybe. If you’re lucky.”
He laughs, and the sound does something dangerous to my pulse. “I’ll take it.”
I grab the takeout containers and take them to the kitchen.
We work in comfortable silence, but there’s an energy between us now that wasn’t there before.
There are still some dishes remaining, and he helps me wash them.
Every time he hands me something to dry, our fingers brush.
Every time I lean over to put something away, I’m acutely aware of how close he is.
When the last glass is dried and put away, I suddenly remember Joshua.
I don’t know where the thought creeps in from, but my hand reaches out to clutch Caleb’s shirt.
“Wait. I just remembered. Something happened today.” He turns to look at me, and for a moment, I hesitate.
What if I’m wrong? What if what I saw has nothing to do with the sabotage?
“Eve?” Caleb’s brows furrow. “What is it?”
“I—When I went to the bodega, I saw Joshua outside on the sidewalk. A car rolled up, and he handed someone a flash drive. I thought he had been on the roof, so I asked him. He said the rooftop door was locked, but when I returned, Steven was coming from the roof, and he said it was unlocked.”
A shutter falls over Caleb’s face. “Are you sure about this? Was it a flash drive?”
“It looked like one.”
He studies my face and finally says, “You and Joshua are good friends, Eve. If you’re right and he’s the mole, then you would be turning your friend in.”
I look away, feeling guilty. “I trust him.” My voice is rough.
“Even now, I’m sure there must be an explanation, but we’ve all worked hard on the campaign, Caleb.
” I look up, meeting his gaze fiercely. “If I protect the mole, then that’s the same thing as me disregarding the blood, sweat, and tears of everyone else on the team. ”
“What if you’re wrong about trusting him?” Caleb asks softly. It feels like my heart is being squeezed by a fist. Joshua and I have been friends for so long. I can’t bear the idea of him being the mole.
It takes me a moment to answer. “Then I’m wrong. There’s nothing else to it. But I thought you should know.”
He presses his lips together. “I know this wasn’t easy, Eve.”
I try to shrug but the movement comes off as unnatural. “Yeah, well…”
“I’ll look into this,” he assures me before putting his hands on my shoulders and pressing a kiss to my forehead. My mind instantly goes blank, and my hand comes to touch the spot he just kissed. “See you tomorrow.”
He leaves, grabbing his parka and closing the door behind him while I stand there stunned, my fingers lingering on the spot he just kissed. Of everything we have done, why does this kiss feel the most intimate of them all?