Right Man, Right Time (The Vancouver Agitators, #3)(127)

If you have any questions, please feel free to contact me. I would advise that you sit down with a school-provided counselor to figure out what your next moves should be.

Sincerely,

Professor Wheeler





Ross: Want me to come over?

Ollie: No. I just want to be alone.

Ross: I don’t like you being in your room all by yourself.

Ollie: I love you for caring, but I just want to sit here and cry alone.

Ross: Can I at least bring you something? Maybe find Candace and accidentally run a razor over her head, right down the middle perhaps? I have impeccable accuracy. I also know where Professor Wheeler’s office is. I can stick a dead fish in it somewhere.

Ollie: I’m not going to stop you if that’s what you choose to do.

Ross: I’ll keep a razor in my pocket at all times, then. The fish, well, that will have to be specifically planned. But seriously, anything I can bring you?

Ollie: No, I’m good. Thanks.

I set my phone down, then press my palms against my eyes and let out an ugly sob.

This is so unfair.

All of it.

The loss of the internship, the loss of credit even though I performed everything required. I even wrote an article that was within the scope given to me.

Yet I’m losing everything.

My job.

My dreams.

My housing.

My man . . .

I’m not going to negate the fact that I’m the one who slipped up. I’m the one who broke Silas’s trust. Even if it was accidental. That’s on me, but what Candace did? I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, how someone can be so maniacal.

How one mistake can have such an adverse effect on the outcome of my life and everything that was important to me.

Then again, that’s what Silas must think of me. That I took a piece of his life and sold it for gain. And he’s dealing with a shitstorm from the media. I know, because I’ve looked. Sarah too.

All because of Candace. There’s no doubt in my mind that she’s Roberts’s favorite right now, something I strived for throughout my internship, but now, now it feels like a baseless desire.

Why would you want to team up with a man like that? With someone who has absolutely no heart or awareness for the people around them? Someone who would derail a person’s future with zero regard for how adversely it will change their life.

I grab a tissue from my nightstand and blow my nose before wiping my eyes again.

At least I felt like I made the right decision by choosing to leave.

And headbutting Candace. I hope she has a concussion. I can still hear the sound it made when our heads collided.

Sure, it cost me my graduation and reputation, but I walked away knowing I did the right thing.

As for what I’m going to do now? I have no freaking clue. Roberts not only got me kicked out of the School of Journalism, but he’ll prevent me from obtaining any internship or job here in Vancouver, which means, I have to go back home.

The thought of walking back there with my tail tucked between my legs only to see my dad’s “I told you so” face creates a whole new level of nausea. Something I can’t think about right now, even though I probably should since my time here is quickly dwindling.

Sighing, I slowly climb out of bed and fill up my water glass. That’s when I see the box of things I collected while dating Silas and all the little items I saved to put in a scrapbook.

Maybe because I love self-inflicting pain apparently, or maybe because I miss him more than anything, I pick up the box and carry it to my bed. I set my water on my nightstand, then flip open the box. I swipe away my tears, making way for fresh ones, and pick up the first thing at the very top. The picture frame I brought into work of him. I never changed the picture out of pure spite. Nope, I made everyone stare at his abs.

I set the picture down and then pick up another one. It’s a selfie of the two of us. He’s kissing my cheek, and I’m smiling. I choke down a sob as I stare at how incredibly happy I was. How happy he was.

I set that down and grab the map we used at the zoo. It’s folded in half from where Silas stuffed it in the back pocket of his jeans. I remember watching him do that and thinking it was an odd thing to think was hot. But I did. I thought it was so hot, and I had to check myself because we were still friends.

Another picture of us, this one is of me sleeping on his bare chest.

The labels to the yogurts we shared together.

Napkins from the bar.

Another picture of us from one of the events we went to together. I found it online and printed it out.

Agitators paraphernalia.

A business card from . . .

I stare down at the business card, remembering when I got this. We were at the sponsor event for Silas, and I was trying to break him by fondling him all night. But there was a break in my pursuit to drive him crazy. That was when we spoke to JP Cane and Ryot Bisley . . . the owner of The Jock Report.

JP handed me his card in case I could help him with his charities.

I rub my lips together and once again swipe at my eyes as an idea forms in my head.

I grab my phone from the nightstand and text Ross.

Ollie: I think I have an idea.

He must be on Ollie watch because he texts back right away.

Ross: Uh, an idea for what?

Ollie: It’s kind of crazy, but I think it might be the solution I need.