The Design(67)

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 7th 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?”