The Game Plan (Game On, #3)(68)

Smiling, I kiss his cheek. “Papa Jackson. Can I fill out my Christmas list now?”

He gives my shoulder a nudge. “I wasn’t finished, cheeky. Come work with us, Fiona. Make your furniture, and we’ll sell it. When you’re established, you can go it on your own.”

For a second, I can only stare at him. “You’re serious.”

“As a personal trainer on New Year’s Day.” His smile is soft. “Be your own boss, and forge your own path.”

Just beyond Jackson’s shoulder, the lights of New York glitter. It’s as familiar a sight as my own face, and yet it never fails to fascinate me. But I want more.

“Do I have to be here in New York?”

“Setting up camp elsewhere makes it trickier, but honey, we’ll make it work.” Jackson’s smile grows sly. “And there’s a certain southern city that’s ripe for the picking, especially when one has contacts in the area.”





Chapter Thirty-One





Fiona



Sitting alone in the office, I let the quiet ground me. All is still, the sounds of Manhattan a distant hum. I glance out the window toward that gray light. I love this city. Love it with all my heart. But I’ve been happy other places as well.

And I’m not happy here. Was it Elena’s fault? Yes and no. Yes, she made my life misery. But it wouldn’t have mattered if I truly loved my job.

I know the world is full of Elenas. I’ll meet her time and again. But the question is, what do I want to fight for? Felix’s approval? No. I have no respect for him anymore.

Turning in my seat, I slide my hand over my portfolio, the leather smooth under my palm. A small smile pulls at my mouth. It’s bittersweet. Maybe I’m doing the wrong thing. I don’t know. I thought I’d have a better sense of my life’s path when I graduated college, that everything would be clear.

I loved college. Loved it. Life was one big party, peppered with frantic bits of studying in between. I didn’t take anything too seriously, and that was just fine. I had time. Because, let’s be honest, being in college is safe—a bit like high school but without parental supervision.

But now? Nothing is safe. I’m swinging along without a net. And it feels surprisingly good. Exciting. Yeah, I might f*ck up spectacularly. I might never find what I’m looking for in terms of a career. But I do have one thing.

Ethan. He’s mine. All mine. It’s surprising how completely satisfying that is. And terrifying. If I slip and fall with him, down I’ll crash, all broken and damaged. But at least I want to fight for him.

I used to think maybe a guy would make me whole. But that’s not really the truth. It’s up to me to figure my shit out, but Ethan makes the struggles easier to bear. He’s my reward when it’s all said and done.

And this place? I’m done with it.

There’s only one thing left to do.

“Fiona?” As if summoned, Elena walks around the corner and notices me sitting at her desk. “What are you doing here?”

Reflexively, my palm pushes against the cool leather of my portfolio. “I was waiting for you.”

Her steps slow, and I wonder if she’s on to me. I give her a bright smile, the same one she’s given me for months.

“I wanted to ask your opinion on something.” My hand is steady as I flip open the case and pull out a stack of drawings.

She hesitates, her hand hovering and a frown on her brow. “Oh?”

“Yeah. I quit this morning, and I’m thinking of using these for my resume.”

“You quit?” There’s a weird touch of panic in her voice. “But why?”

“I don’t know…” I shrug. “I’m not a good fit here. Felix has a certain vision…” I shrug again.

“Oh, but you’ll get there!” She insists. “I’ll help you.”

I want to laugh at the irony. “So help me now. Quitting is a done deal.”

And it is. My resignation letter is sitting on his desk. And I’m not about to give him two weeks notice. Shitty? Yes. But he’ll survive. Besides, I don’t need his reference; I have other plans.

I push the designs toward her.

Finally she picks them up, her eyes scanning the pages. “These are great. I love them.”

So did half of Manhattan’s elite when they admired Janice Mark’s penthouse. Do I feel guilty about showing Elena what are essentially sketches of the apartment? Maybe I should, but I don’t.

I rise and snap my case shut. “Can I leave them with you for the weekend? I don’t want to be here when Felix gets in.” I give an exaggerated pause. “He hasn’t seen these, and I don’t want him to, okay?”

There. If she steals these designs, her fall is all on her.

She doesn’t even blink when she gives me a solemn nod, her hand already spreading over the pages. “I’ll guard them well.”

I give a nod of my own. But when she begins to pull them toward her, my hand comes down on the sketches with a slap. “You know what? I can’t do this. I was going to give you these, knowing they’re bad, knowing you’d take them for your own. But I cannot walk out of here and pretend that what you did, what you’ve been doing, isn’t seriously f*cked up.”