Chapter 12

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Carlie sat at the foot of my bed clinging to my every word while I ranted. I'd called and startled her out of sleep when I got back to the apartment around two in the morning. She'd come over, a pint of my favorite ice cream in hand, and sleepily listened to me go on and on about how mad I was, while inhaling the entire carton and half of another. I told her everything about Alec and Sean and how I wouldn't be surprised if Mr. Hilliard fired me as soon as I walked in the office. No doubt he'd heard by now that Harper Media was handling the campaign. He had to be livid, probably blaming me.

To a certain extent, it probably was my fault. Sure, Alec had unintentionally stolen my chances with Rutherford Laurence, but it was my responsibility to knock Sean Ashworth's socks off in a pitch, and I hadn't made a good enough presentation. I was equally as mad at myself as I was at Alec.

"Why didn't he tell his boss he wouldn't do it?" Carlie frowned, digging a spoon into her vanilla ice cream. "Or he could've told you beforehand what was going on. That's why he ignored you for a week? What a bastard!"

Carlie had a point. There were numerous ways Alec could've handled the situation differently. I didn't know why I was surprised though. Before our truce, anything went. Alec didn't care how much he screwed me over or how many clients and potential clients he stole from me. He absolutely could not give less of a fuck. But I thought all that had changed. I thought we weren't going to do that to each other anymore. I hadn't attempted to steal any of Harper Media's clientele since our agreement. Had I been the only one who meant what they said when we'd agreed not to hurt each other business-wise anymore? I was beginning to think so. Maybe Alec's half of the deal had never been sincere. Maybe he'd just been waiting for the right client to fuck me over. Maybe he'd only agreed so he could better convince me to let him get in my pants. That had been a persuading point.

The more I thought about it, the worse I felt. I felt so sluggish I didn't want to get out of bed. I wanted to avoid the world and sleep the day away - mostly because I figured Mr. Hilliard couldn't fire me if he couldn't find me. I couldn't do that though. I had to throw myself together as best I could and go to work.

"I don't understand his reasoning any better than you, Carlie," I groaned into my pillow. "I guess it's one of those things where he can use the excuse that he wasn't thinking or something like that. I wouldn't be so pissed at him if he'd just told me what was going on when he left for LA."

That was true. I wouldn't be as angry if I'd known what to expect. Maybe he had been so eaten up with guilt over it that he felt like he couldn't talk to me. I couldn't come up with another reason why he'd ignore me the way he had.

"Want me to go beat him up for you?" Carlie giggled, holding up her spoon. Ice cream dripped off of it, landing on her arm. "I hear spoons don't feel very good if you get hit in the face with one."

She was trying to cheer me up and I appreciated that. I knew it was a joke but I also knew that if I'd given her the go-ahead, she wouldn't hesitate to track Alec down and beat him with an ice-cream-dirtied spoon. The mental image of her doing so was enough to make me laugh pretty hard.

I shook my head, laughing. "Please don't go trying to murder anyone."

"I can see it now!" She held up her hands as if she were presenting something spectacular to an audience. "The headline shall read, Woman Murders Man with Spoon!" And she proceeded to fall on the bed, cackling.

I wanted to laugh more because it would probably brighten my mood, but at the same time, it wasn't helping my throbbing head. I hadn't gotten any sleep and it was close to six: my usual wake-up time.

"So does this mean you guys aren't friends with benefits anymore?" Carlie asked.

A frown creased my forehead. I hadn't given that part of our unusual relationship any thought yet. It wasn't something I wanted to think about. As much as I hated the idea of not getting to go to bed with such an incredibly talented seducer, I was pretty sure that was what it was coming to. I felt awkward thinking about being around Alec or talking to him. I wanted to avoid him like he'd avoided me. I wanted to block out any thoughts of having sex with him, falling asleep with him, kissing him, or letting him strip me naked like he so often did. I felt betrayed.

"I don't really know how to answer that right now. I guess I'll have to discuss that with him eventually but I have no interest in speaking to him anytime soon."

But I wasn't sure that was entirely true. I was already missing him. His smooth, velvety voice that so easily caused a storm of emotions sweeping through my body. His sparkling blue eyes that any woman could easily get lost in. His soft lips and skilled tongue that set every inch of skin they touched ablaze. His ever-wandering hands that turned me into a writhing, moaning, begging hot mess. His silky hair that I craved running my fingers through and tugging on the ends of while he thrusted inside me.

I was definitely having withdrawals but I wasn't about to admit it. Not even to Carlie. She'd probably go on about how I should drop the friends with benefits action and opt for a stable relationship with a guy who worked in a different industry who wouldn't fuck with my business affairs. I couldn't say she'd be wrong in giving me that advice, but I wasn't a big fan of the idea either.

"Why did I have to complicate things with him by fucking?" I complained, snatching the carton out of her hands and shoveling ice cream into my mouth. "It would be so much easier to treat him like shit until I got over it if we were just friends, but now I have to worry about the sex. Why can't I just find a normal boyfriend who isn't competitive with me?"

I said it but I didn't know if I meant it. Did I want a normal boyfriend? Did I really want to give up the mind-blowing sex Alec and I had?

Carlie stole the ice cream back, pointing the spoon at me. "If you're really serious about that, I hear Mike Arthur is getting a divorce." She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively and I stuck a finger in my mouth, pretending to puke.

"That's disgusting," I grimaced, waving my hand as if that would dismiss the suggestion from both our minds. "He's twice my age with half the maturity level."

"See," she smiled, trying and failing to keep from giggling. "He's an older, very established businessman, and he acts like he's young! That way you get the security of a relationship with an older successful man, but you don't feel like you've got a sugar daddy! Best of both worlds!"

I shut my eyes tight, shaking my head disapprovingly, though I was fairly amused by her statement. "Okay, Hannah Montana," I slid out from under the covers, shooing her off my bed. "I have to get ready and face the bosses."

Carlie left shortly after I got out of the shower. I didn't have an appetite so I ignored the thought of eating breakfast and threw together a light gray pantsuit with a red button-up. I barely dried my hair. It was still damp when I headed out the door. No sleep paired with a migraine, the stress of not acquiring Rutherford Laurence's business, and wondering if I was going to get fired was really getting to me. I wanted nothing more than to go back to bed.

I could feel everyone's eyes on me when I entered the office but I didn't make eye contact. For someone who was used to being fairly invisible at work, it was shocking to feel like the center of attention for a change. I wasn't enjoying it. I knew it had to do with Rutherford Laurence and Harper Media. I was sure everyone was angry with me for letting Sean Ashworth slip through my fingers. I made a beeline for my office and shut the door behind me, pressing my back against the cold wood and sliding down to the floor in an awkward sitting position. I stared at my desk and the view from the windows behind it.

I liked working for Corbin and Hilliard. It wasn't my dream job but it was a great stepping stone until I could reach the next rung of the corporate advertising ladder. It was a step in the right direction. I liked most of my coworkers. Michelle, Renee and I had become pretty good friends. I liked my bosses, though they could occasionally be a little too intense if a client wasn't one hundred percent happy with something we did. I was happy with my current employment. The last thing I wanted - or needed - was to be fired. The anticipation of finding out how seriously Mr. Corbin and Mr. Hilliard took my losing Rutherford Laurence was clawing at my emotions.

A knock came at my door. It sounded like it was above my head and I dumbly looked up at the ceiling before getting up and opening it. There stood Mr. Hilliard in his famous navy blue suit and polka dot tie. He didn't look pleased.

I stepped out of the way to let him enter the room and watched in a daze as he made his way to the chair he'd sat in during our last conversation and plopped down, tapping his perfectly shined black shoe on the floor. My heels clicked against the wood until I reached my chair, taking a seat and hesitantly meeting his stone-faced gaze. Like I had the last time he'd come into my office like this, I began to mentally prepare for being fired.

"Bree," he sighed, shaking his head. He briefly looked down at his coffee. "You've always been a good agent. You've gotten Corbin and Hilliard some of our best clients. I was positive persuading Rutherford Laurence to choose us would be a piece of cake for you. What happened?"

I felt like he was rubbing my failure in my face, though I knew he didn't mean it that way. I couldn't look at him anymore. I stared across the room at one of my bookcases and focused on a shelf, carefully studying every item on it.

"I had the wrong idea," I said simply, unable to come up with a more intelligent sounding response, and unwilling to tell him about Alec looking at my computer. "I thought I knew what type of ad would be the most effective and it turned out I was wrong."

Mr. Hilliard tapped his pointer finger on the edge of his mug as though he was contemplating what to say next. "I can't really fault you for that, Bree," he said. "It's more Sean's fault for not being more specific about his preferences. It's not your fault Harper pitched an idea that was more aligned with what he wanted. Maybe he gave them more specifics. Or maybe they guessed and got lucky. Who knows. But this would have been our most profitable deal to date."

I felt like, even though he was being nice, he was dragging out firing me. I just wanted him to say it and get it over with. But then an idea crossed my mind.

"Mr. Hilliard," I leaned forward in my seat and placed my forearms on the edge of the desk, finally making eye contact with him again. "I have almost no doubt in my mind that you came in here to fire me." His eyebrows shot up in surprise, though he didn't deny it. "But before you do, can I make a suggestion?"

Mr. Hilliard's brows furrowed. Surely he'd never heard such a thing before. He was probably used to sitting an employee down and breaking the fateful news and that being the end of it.

"Alright," he nodded, still frowning.

"Would it change your mind if I earned back Sean's attention and got Rutherford Laurence to change their minds?" I took a chance on an idea I was sure was going to be shot down immediately.

To my surprise, he seemed to actually be considering it. His frown eventually dissipated and he took a long sip of his coffee before speaking again. "You have two weeks."

With that, Mr. Hilliard sauntered out of my office, leaving me in a nerve-rattled mess, wondering how the hell I was going to do what I'd suggested. The chances of me being able to persuade Sean Ashworth to change his mind were slim to none. One thing was for sure though: if Alec could go back on his word, so could I. 

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