The Proposal Pact (Loverly Cave #6)

Prologue

“There will come a time when you believe everything is finished. That will be the beginning.” — Louis L’Amour

Sophie

T he rim of my coffee cup barely grazes my lips when it goes flying.

“Sophie!!!” Hemorrhoid—in certain circles also known as my pain-in-the-ass boss, Daniel—screeches my name from across the room, and that sweet lavender latte doesn’t make it into the right hole.

Oh no. His shrill cry catches me so off-guard—which, I’ll admit, is a rookie mistake on my part—that I jump, effectively pouring half the cup of my coffee down my blouse.

My crisp, white blouse.

I close my eyes for a brief second, taking a deep calming breath before I have to force myself to look down and assess the damage. Let’s look at the bright side, at least it’s already cold because this is the first time to day I’ve had the chance to get to it.

On the down side, I don’t have any of that magical, calming lavender my best friend Grace swears by, before I have to deal with my boss. Nope, now I’m wearing it instead. Hey, maybe it’ll work better than ingesting it?

Because I’ve been adding that little purple crap to everything and no magic is happening here.

No sirree.

Magic doesn’t live here.

Magic had fled the house, vacated the premises, boarded the ships, ran down the sewer lines, and all other metaphors I can’t think of right now as the cold and wet silky material clings to my chest.

Maybe I was born without any. It must’ve all gone to my older, wiser, better-looking, all-put-together brother, Vassar. Yep, that’s it.

Or I’ve simply already used up what little of it I had, and I don’t see any glitter wells anywhere near me to replenish it. Nope, just endless gray cubicles with asshole bosses.

There’s no going back, Soph. The big, wet spot won’t magically disappear from your blouse.

Might as well deal with it. I take another breath, leaving all of my philosophical thinking for the subway ride home later, and I’m just about to get up to go to the bathroom when the owner of that beautiful nickname appears out of thin-freaking-air.

“Coffee…she’s drinking coffee, ladies and gentlemen.” The asshole clucks his tongue against his teeth as I yelp, my surprise sending my half-seated, half-standing body toppling over my chair and onto the ground, scraping the side of my hip on my way down against the glass table.

“Ouch,” I murmur.

“What the fuck are you doing on the floor?”

What does it look like, asshole? I think angrily but inside the safety of my head as I stare at his perfectly styled blonde hair.

There is a running bet going on in my own head, with just me, myself, and I—because no one else cares—about how soon all that hair will fall out from the amount of product Daniel uses.

“Just missed my chair,” I answer, getting up and back into my seat with a wince.

“For fuck’s sake! Do I look like I have the whole day to sit here and wait for you to do your damn job while you’re lounging around the office, drinking coffee?”

“I wasn’t—”

“Ugh,” he groans out, tipping his head back like I’m the most exasperating person he’s ever had the displeasure to deal with as he extends his hand toward me. “Just pass me the flash drive already.”

“What flash drive?” I stare at his outstretched hand with a frown. Crap, did I miss something? Mentally, I go through all the assignments I’ve had, but apart from the newest one I received earlier this month, I’m certain I’ve turned it all in.

“With the program for Hart job.” He grits his teeth.

I blink at him. Is he serious right now? “You just gave me the assignment three weeks ago, I haven’t finished it yet.”

He takes a deep breath and clucks his tongue again.

“You mean to tell me that I was generous enough to give you all this time to write a program that should’ve taken you no more than a week to do and yet you still have nothing to show me?

What the fuck am I supposed to present at the meeting in an hour?

” His voice raises with each word. “I swear I should’ve just done the program myself! ”

It's at the tip of my tongue to point out that he, indeed , should’ve done this program himself.

It was his assignment, for his level of position.

Instead, he let it lay around his desk for months before dumping it on me because he’s too clueless to even detect viruses on his own computer.

Let alone lead a whole department, but hey, not all of us are as capable at fucking the CEO, so what do I know?

Hemorrhoid should’ve never got the promotion that was rightfully mine. The one I worked my butt off for, lost any semblance of personal life, sleep, or freaking magic ! I gave this job my all and what do I get in return?

Típota ! Nada! Absolutely nothing, unless you count the ulcer I had to go to the hospital for last year.

Yet there’s nothing I can do about any of it.

I can’t lose my job. I can’t! This is all I have; all I’ve worked for.

I lived on my brother’s lumpy couch through half of my schooling to get to where I am today.

I lost precious time with my mom, my family to be where I am.

To have the financial security and independence.

Not to mention, all that money Vassar paid for my education. I can’t let all that go to waste!

So I grit my teeth, swallow all of my murderous thoughts, and kill a little bit more of my magic when I smile and say, “I’ll write an overview of the program for you to present in an hour and I’ll try to have the whole thing done by the end of the month,” I tell him.

“Fine,” he spits out. “And there is no try . You will get it done by the end of the week. Not the month, or I’ll make sure you don’t touch the computer for the foreseeable future.” And with that, Daniel spins on his shiny loafers and speeds away to his office.

Prick. I scoff to myself. A program of this magnitude takes at the very least three to four months. Yet, in an hour, Mr. Hemorrhoid picks up the overview I pulled together as I gear up for a long night of work. Nights. I mean nights. Plural. Many plurals.

Because I’ll never allow myself to fail. No matter how impossible the task is and how much more of my own life I’ll be sacrificing for it. I just can’t. This is my livelihood. This is what makes or breaks your career, and I need to make it. I must make it.

Our parents gave up everything they knew, their home in Greece, their family, for Vassar and me to live in America, to have the futures we deserved, to be financially stable and not worry about what scraps we need to find to make dinner that night.

So, forgetting my wet, stained blouse, the dinner I was supposed to have with Vas and his family this week, and everything else, I get to work.

It will pay off. It will. I know it.

A week later…

“Daniel, wow.” The door to the conference room opens.

I’m not in the direct view of it, but I tilt my head a bit and catch the three figures standing there.

“I’m blown away! This is…well, I’ve go t no words.

” Mr. Hart, the client I wrote the program for says with a broad smile, clapping Daniel on his shoulder.

“I had high expectations coming into this, but you’ve overachieved every single one of them. ”

Adrenaline mixed with pure joy and glee surges through my body. Oh my God. Overachieved every single one of his expectations? Me?

“Thank you, sir. That’s what I’m here for. Anything you need, come to us and we will get it done.”

“What he said,” our CEO, Scott, says with a secretive smile aimed at Daniel.

“Oh, you bet I will! I went through three other companies before coming here and not one of them could do what you did.”

“Well, none of them are me,” Daniel says smugly, and I taste distain on my tongue.

“I’d love to meet your team that worked on this project,” Mr. Hart says, and I’m about to push away from my desk and move toward them but stop.

“Oh, I’d never trust a project of this importance to just anyone. I worked on it all by myself,” Daniel answers, and my jaw drops.

What. The. Fuck?

“Well, my boy, then I’ll make sure to put in a good word for you with your boss.” He winks at Scott. “You deserve a nice raise and a few bonuses.”

The three men standing together share a laugh and a few more handshakes before Mr. Hart and Scott leave.

Alone. He’s done it all alone.

I’m still sitting here in shock, and don’t notice Daniel passing by.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” His voice jars me, but not enough to fully come back to life.

Slowly, I look up at him. “Why are you sitting there like an ice statue? Get to work! You only have two months to get me the new program, so don’t come crying to me later that you can’t finish because you’re sitting here doing nothing.

I swear I work with idiots.” He sighs but I just blink.

“Alone? You’ve done the program alone?” I hear myself ask.

Daniel cocks an eyebrow. “So, not just an ice statue. You’re an eavesdropping ice statue. ”

When I remain seated, saying nothing, he clucks his tongue. “You should be thanking me, you know.”

“For what?” I blink again.

“For not throwing you under the bus. Your program had a ton of mistakes I had to fix. It was complete crap. Now you can say thank you and get back to work. Make sure this one is done on time, yeah? I don’t want to look like an idiot at the next meeting, presenting them a half-cooked overview bullshit. ”

He turns around, strolling into his office with a broad smile while I’m left sitting here like that ice sculpture he accused me of being.

Suddenly, a blazing fire roars through my body, melting the ice as the feeling of unfairness makes my skin crawl to the point where I can no longer sit. No, instead I get up and storm into the asshole’s office.

“Show me!” I demand as I throw the door open.

I don’t know what’s gotten into me, why I can no longer control myself, but I was fucking done.

“What?”

“Show me those mistakes? Show me every single one of them.”

“Get the fuck out of my office, I don’t have to show you anything.”

“Because there’s nothing to show,” I grit out.

Daniel gets up from his chair, shuts the door behind me and comes way too close to my face for my comfort.

My already overstimulated heart takes off again but this time for a whole new reason when he drags his nose over my cheek, his cool, minty breath washing over my raised skin. “You want credit? You want promotions? Is that what you’re after?”

“Y-yes.”

“Well…that can be arranged. For the right price.”

“Price?”

“Yes, Sophie, price.”

“There shouldn’t be any price! I work my ass off for every project.”

“And?” he asks me, raising one perfectly groomed eyebrow as if I’m the dumb one here. “Did it get you anywhere?” When I don’t answer, he continues. “No, it hasn’t. Come to my office tonight after work and we can discuss some other options.” Daniel takes a small step back, but not far enough.

I’m an idiot, I know what these other options are, I just can’t believe I’m hearing this. I clench my fists at my sides. “That’s harassment.”

Finally, he takes a bigger step back, sighing. “No, it’s reality, sugar. That’s how things are done.”

Suddenly, the fight leaves me just as fast as it came. It hits me, I’ll never win because I’ll never cross that line. I already lost all of my magic. I can’t lose this part of me too.

I live at this job. I eat and breathe these stupid codes.

I gave it my all without as much as a “thank you” in return.

I’m not even getting paid what I should be, but I’ve been sucking it up, thinking this is how it is for everyone at the beginning, but it’s now been three years and there is no light at the end of the tunnel.

Only endless codes I don’t seem to be able to crack.

Codes to life I wasn’t taught. The one where nothing is fair. The ones where you live how you’re supposed to, instead of how you want.

“I quit.”