Beholden (The Belonging Duet, #2)(52)

That’s the million-dollar question. I want this so bad I can taste it. The idea of moving away becomes more and more appealing. A fresh start in L.A. It means leaving behind all my old baggage and allowing myself to breathe again. I can let go of the ghosts that haunt me here. The company obviously trusts that I can do this, and I can. I know I can.

“I think so. I mean, there’s only one thing holding me back.”

“What?” she asks, clueless that she’s the one thing.

“You, you jackass!” I laugh.

Ashton looks at me and you can see the moisture building in her eyes. “I love you, Biffle, but seriously I’m not a factor. You need to take this.”

“But I need to know you’ll be okay.” She’s my best friend and I don’t want to leave her high and dry. This is our home and I would never put her in a position that would hurt her.

“Hello! You’re an ass! I’ll be fine and you’ll be hanging out with all the famous people. Oh! Maybe you’ll become friends with Vin Diesel and you can hook me up. If that does happen, be warned—I’ll be visiting monthly. Maybe they need an embryologist out there?” she smiles and pulls me into a hug.

I start laughing and rocking back and forth with her. “Only you would think somehow I’m going to be your matchmaker.”

“I’m so proud of you. You’re going to be amazing and you’ll miss me, but that’s normal.” Ashton giggles and grabs the pizza, trying to hide the tears I saw in her eyes.

I come up behind her and nudge her hips. “I’m going to miss you.”

“When do you think you’ll leave?”

“Not sure, but they need my answer by Tuesday. But I think I’m going to take it. I have a shitty relationship with my mother, my father is dead, and you’re all I have here. I think this’ll be good for me. I mean, running an office. It’s huge!” I say and try to reassure Ashton and myself.

“It is huge, but seriously you deserve it. I think they’ve been priming you for this position.”

We move to the table and talk through all the pros and cons. The only con we can come up with is her. I’ll be making more money, in a gorgeous area, my apartment is paid for, and I’ll be running an office. It’s a no-brainer.

“I need to ask you this: if you and Jackson were still together—would you go?”

Chewing the inside of my cheek, I try to be honest because my gut reaction is yes, I would. That’s the anger though. “I don’t know. It would’ve been a hard choice, but if he didn’t want me to go, I probably would’ve thought more on it. How sad is that, Ash? I would possibly give up my dream job for him.” I feel stupid for even admitting it, but I loved him that much. He would’ve probably been my choice.

“It’s not sad. What’s sad is that this is where you’re both sitting. He’s miserable, you’re miserable, he’s going to Virginia and you’re going to California.”

That news causes my head to snap up. “What?”

She looks over and shoves food in her mouth. “Hmmm?”

“What do you mean he’s going to Virginia?”

“Why do you care? You’re over it, I thought.”

“Don’t be cute,” I say, growing annoyed with her.

Ashton gets up and grabs the plate from the table. “That’s not possible. I’m always cute.”

“Right now I’d use another word,” I grouse, wanting to know what she knows.

She leans in so we’re eye to eye. “You shouldn’t care if he moves to Siberia if you’re so over it.” She kisses my cheek and walks out of the room.

She’s right though … I shouldn’t care—but I do.





The following weeks fly by. I inform Sean and the other partners I am definitely taking the job. We go over the timeline and they want me in California within the month. Which leaves me three weeks to get everything accomplished.

I was able to give Taylor two options since she was one of my big concerns. She could accompany me and become a publicist in the office with me, or she could stay in New York and take a smaller promotion. She and her boyfriend, well, now fiancé, decided to stay in New York where his job is. I keep catching her crying or refusing to pack up any of the things that are in my office. We’re in the process of moving all my accounts over to her until they expire. The clients are already familiar with her, and I’m positive she can handle them.

“There’s another delivery here,” Taylor says and she brings in a huge bouquet of Stargazer lilies. I don’t need to look at the card to know who it’s from. I’ve gotten something to remind me of our time together every few days. “Should I throw these out?” she asks being the ever-supportive friend.

“No, I’ll torment myself for a day or two.” I smile and return to the emails I have to handle.

“Can I read the card?”

“Sure, I don’t plan to,” I say turning my chair around.

I hear her taking short breaths and spin around to see tears starting to form in her eyes.

“Cat, please read this.”

My eyes close as the frustration starts to build. He won’t stop. It’s almost every day I get an email, text, card, or gift. “I can’t read it. I leave in two weeks. Please take it,” I plead and fight the urge to rip the card from her fingers.