The Design (23 page)

With that, she bent to stub out her cigarette on the concrete and glided back into the office, leaving me with a whole new bomb to try to diffuse.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

I let myself stay in the stairwell until I was sure that everyone had gone back to their desks, bored with the drama. I knew I’d be the focal point of everyone’s attention as soon as I showed my face, but I figured that at least a few people would pretend to be busy with their own work.

When I opened the door, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the office was all but deserted. I didn’t see anyone, but then I heard the faint sound of voices coming from the conference room. I took another step and peered around the corner to see most of the Cole Designs staff packed into the conference room like sardines. I took a deep breath and moved to join them, when I heard my name.

“Cammie?” a voice called from behind me.

I turned to see a woman I faintly recognized as one of the company’s HR representatives standing outside of Grayson’s office door. Alan stood beside her with a scowl.

“Could we speak with you, please?” the woman asked, offering me a gentle smile.

I nodded and turned to join them before I noticed the small white binder clutched against her chest. “
Cole Designs HR Protocol
” was written across the front in thick letters.

Serenity was right. They’re going to fire me.

When I approached the doorway to Grayson’s office, Alan stepped aside to let me pass. It took all of my strength to stay silent as he glared down at me. I might have been in the wrong, but he deserved to be put in his place just as much as I did.

Grayson looked up from his desk when I entered, an indistinguishable expression on his face. Had we been alone, I would have hoped for some kind of greeting, but the HR woman and Alan followed me into the office and shut the door behind them. There was no hope for any privacy.

“Cammie.” Grayson nodded. “Have a seat.”

“Or stay standing, this shouldn’t take long,” Alan added with a sharp tongue.

Grayson glared up at him. “That’s your final warning, Alan. I’ve had enough today.”

Alan straightened his tie and cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed. The HR woman sat down in the chair beside me and flipped open her binder.

“So, Cammie, I’m Monica, and I’m here to supervise this meeting. As I’m sure you suspect, your actions concerning the design competition cannot be overlooked by the company—”

“Monica,” Grayson interrupted, “If you don’t mind, I’d like to do most of the talking. I understand that you have to be here, but Cammie should hear this from me.”

I clutched my hands on top of my lap and stared down at my chipped nail polish as Grayson continued to speak. I tried to absorb most of it, but really only got bits and pieces while I tried to keep my tears at bay:

“...your actions were careless...”,

“...jeopardized your coworkers' jobs...”,

“...stolen company property...”,

"...endangered the reputation...".

As I listened, I tried to pretend that I was hearing the speech from someone else’s lips. I knew that Grayson was firing me. I knew that it was the only choice he had, but when he told me to gather my things and exit the building, I felt like a hot blade had pierced my chest.

I loved him and he was letting me go.

I loved him and yet I’d still betrayed him.

“You’ve left me no choice, Cammie.” Grayson's eyes pleaded with me to understand.

I nodded and stood to head for the door before realizing that I should tell him the truth. I gripped the back of the chair I’d just vacated and met Grayson’s eyes for the first time since entering his office. I could have fallen so easily into his warm, trusting gaze, but I knew that couldn’t happen anymore.

“Yes, I submitted a design behind your back and yes, I snuck a few pages of letterhead. I shouldn’t have done it, and I realize that. The last thing I wanted to do was go behind your back, but I felt like I had no choice. I know that it was irrational, but I don’t regret submitting my own design. I would have never forgiven myself if I’d let the Alans of the world walk all over me. If this is truly a meritocracy, just look at the two designs.”

His frown deepened.

“Thank you for giving me this opportunity and I’m truly sorry for causing you to lose faith in me.”

I was sure there were still things for us to work out, some kind of paperwork to sign before I left, but I turned toward the door and walked out of Grayson’s office. They could mail me my final check. They could send me any exit paperwork. I’d be in another country soon enough, so what did it matter?

…

I took the long way home that afternoon. The sun was beating down overhead as I strolled down various LA streets, but I wasn’t in a hurry to escape it. To go home meant that I had to decide what my next move would be. I’d wanted to travel, to leave for Paris and never look back, but I’d wanted to do it on my own terms. I hadn’t saved up enough money yet and I wasn’t ready to leave Grayson. It felt like we were right at the beginning of something good, and if we could only get through the storm, we’d have potential to end up together. Him and me.

However, if I wasn’t making money, I didn’t really have many options. I could get a part time job somewhere, just to prolong the inevitable, but I think deep down I knew that getting fired was the final kick in the ass that I’d needed to pursue my dream. I just had to figure out how I’d leave Grayson without tearing my heart out in the process.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Amount
saved for Paris
: $3417 (plus $537 from my last Cole Designs paycheck and another $3250 from selling my car).

Items I have
: a pumpkin spice k-cup I stole from my desk on the way out of the office.

Items I need
: a list of hostels in Paris.

French phrases that I know
:
Non, je ne ai pas de travail.
Puis-je laver la vaisselle?
…which translates to: “No, I don’t have a job. Can I wash dishes?”

“So, they canned you?” Brooklyn asked as we spoke on the phone later that afternoon.

I rolled my eyes and sat up in bed, suddenly feeling antsy.
Why had I called her instead of just moping solo style?
She had a way of making it seem like getting fired was a bad thing. I preferred to look at it like I was a badass, blazing my way through the business world and taking life by the horns.

“Cammie?” she asked again, this time a bit more impatient.

I sighed. “Yes, I am a jobless loser.”

She laughed and then quickly corrected herself. “I’m sorry, Cammie. Why don’t you come out to Montana and stay with Jason and I for a few days? LuAnne would love to see you and Cowboy Derek is still as cute as ever.”

While the idea of Montana sounded very enticing, I knew I couldn’t go. I had unfinished business in LA and as soon as it was cleared up, I’d be on my way to Paris. My gut twisted at the idea of boarding a plane—of leaving Grayson behind. Having him fire me was one of the most humiliating moments of my life, but leaving him behind would be ten times harder to bear.

“Thank you for the offer, sis, but I’m going to stick around here.”

“For Grayson?”

I paused, wondering how much I ought to tell her.

“For a lot of reasons.”

My entire life I’d had Brooklyn as a safety net to catch me whenever life got a little too hard. In the 7
th
grade, when Sarah Buchanan said that my eyes were so big that I looked like a fish in front of my entire English class, Brooklyn took me out for ice cream after school and then we egged Sarah's house on the way home. My senior year of high school, when Todd Jenkins was so drunk at prom that he tried to force himself on me in our high school’s bathroom, Brooklyn picked me up outside the front of the school and then we egged his front door.
Hmm, my childhood had a lot of eggs in it.

Most importantly, when our parents died, Brooklyn held me together as best as she could. It was a natural pattern for us to fall into, one that wouldn’t easily be broken unless I put an end to it. I couldn’t depend on Brooklyn for every little thing in life. Running to Montana and escaping my problems wasn’t the answer.

A knock on the front door of my apartment jerked my attention from where I’d been twisting my bedspread between my fingers.

“B, I gotta go. Someone’s at the door,” I said.

“Ok. Be safe and don’t worry about that silly job. You’ll find something better and it probably wouldn’t have been a good idea for you and Grayson to work together anyway.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” I said, just as I heard another knock from the front door.

“Oh, and hey! I sent you a hilarious picture of Jason sleeping on the plane the other day. I put pretzels under his lip like a walrus. Check your email, it’ll make you feel better.”

I smiled. “Will do.”

Once I’d hung up, I threw my phone down onto my bed and went to check the door, praying it wasn’t Hannah. I hadn’t figured out what I was going to do about her yet. There’s no way we could sleep in the same apartment anymore, not now that I knew how truly vile she was.

“Cammie, are you in there?” a deep voice boomed from the other side of the door.

I turned the lock to find Grayson waiting on the other side of the door. I swung it open and he pushed past me before I could even catch a glimpse of him.

“Good to see you too,” I said, turning and pushing the door closed with my butt.

He spun around to face me looking more disheveled than I’d ever seen him before. His hair was standing on end like he’d tugged the strands all day hoping they would give. His tie was gone, the top two buttons of his shirt were open, and his eyes were wild, darting back and forth among my features.

“Why did you have to do it, Cammie?” he asked.

I pressed my palms together in front of my chest. “Save the lecture please. You already fired me. I spent all day moaning to Brooklyn because I have no job and no prospects. So please, take off your boss hat and put on your boyfriend hat.”

His features eased, the wrinkles in his forehead going slack.

“Boyfriend?”

My eyes widened.

“It was a slip of the tongue. Besides, it’d take me like two hours to explain what we really are, so the label will have to do for right now.”

The edge of his mouth hitched up. “I think the label should stay.”

I wasn’t sure if I agreed, not before we discussed the voicemail message.

“Was it chaos the rest of the day?” I asked, pressing my hands to his chest and leading him back toward the couch.

He shook his head. “No, Alan was under orders to keep the situation private. And I fired Hannah.”

“You what?!”

He’d slipped in that detail so subtly that I almost didn’t hear it.
He’d fired Hannah?
I couldn’t say she didn’t deserve it, but it still felt a little harsh.

I watched him sink down onto the couch and lean back against the cushions. It was probably his first break of the day. I cringed at the knowledge that I was the cause of his fatigue.

“Trust me, I'd rather have arsonists working for me than conniving gossips,” he said, assuring me of his decision.

I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to comprehend how so much had changed in one day.

“I see.”

“What will you do for work? I can’t believe I had to fire you, Cammie. You left me no choice.” His eyes pleaded with me to understand. “You know there was no other way, right?”

I nodded and offered him a solemn smile. I couldn’t answer his questions about what I’d do because I didn’t know the answers myself, so I just stayed quiet.

“Come here,” he said, reaching his hand out to catch the tips of my fingers. A current of lust shot through me as our skin touched. It’d been the worst day I’d had in a very long time, but I had Grayson all to myself now and he looked so sweet and tired. I let him pull me down and then I straddled his hips with my legs. I hadn’t changed out of my work clothes yet so my twist-tie dress slipped up my thighs with the help of Grayson’s fingers brushing it higher and higher. His designer slacks rubbed against the back of my legs, tickling my skin.

“A boyfriend ought to make his girlfriend feel better after a long day.” He spoke in whispers as one hand slipped beneath my dress. His other hand twisted my hair into a long rope and then he tugged gently, once, so that I was forced to tip my head back or suffer a shock of pain to my neck.

His lips found the juncture between my chin and neck, the sensitive little groove that when he kissed, shot goose bumps down my spine.

“I can’t believe you fired me today,” I spoke.

“I can’t believe you broke into my office,” he said.

I shook my head, recalling the messages I’d heard on his answering machine. It was the perfect opportunity to bring them up and yet I couldn’t make myself do it.

“I really didn’t want to break into your office. I’m so sorry I did,” I hummed, letting my fingers slide down his chest.

For the next hour Grayson and I made each other forget the horrors of the day. He kissed away my embarrassment and I brushed away his disappointment. Eventually, he picked me up and carried me into my room, but as we lay in bed later that night, I knew that things weren’t cleared up. The chaos of the day had distracted me momentarily, but there was still so much I had to ask him about. A part of me knew that once I brought up the messages, we wouldn’t be able to get back to this happy place—the place before I left for Paris and before he told me something I wouldn’t be able to forgive.