Kicking the chair back from my desk, I sank down and reopened the laptop.

—We broke up. Can we please talk? I really need to get some things off my chest. Maybe we could for lunch? I could meet you at Embarcadero. Please, Natalie. Call me.

-Ben

A flurry of emotions whirled inside me like a snowstorm. All of a sudden, I remembered with aching clarity how much I loved Ben. My finger tapped on the reply button and hovered hesitantly over the keys. I needed to see him one more time to find out if I was okay with moving on.

* * *

Early Wednesday, my agency called to tell me that I had a job offer already and that I needed to meet the client in the city. Today.

“Who is it?”

“The client has requested anonymity for now, but it’s important that you make it today.”

I was also meeting Ben in the city—I finally caved and sent him an email. I didn’t tell Jessica about it yet. I had the feeling that she would disapprove, even if she forgave him.

“Believe me, you want to go to this interview. This is a very competitive salary for a client who is—well, just get here.”

Intrigued, I agreed to meet whomever it was at eleven at my agency. Mentally, I patted myself on the back for finding a job so quickly. I was meeting Ben later at one, so this might work out perfectly.

Though the agency always made sure to have copies of my portfolio on hand, I brought one with me anyways. My heels stumbled over the cracks in the pavement near the BART station and I almost twisted my ankle.

Fuck. I really need to move from this place.

I only tolerated living here because of Jessica. She was my best friend and she was broke, so I helped her out by moving to a Section 8 complex. There were a lot of months that I paid for her rent. Those days were over, though. Jessica had a good salary and she paid me back every cent she ever owed me—plus interest. The lease was coming up in a couple months and I had no idea what would happen. Would she move in with Luke?

It struck like a gong inside me. I wanted to cling onto my best friend, but at the same time we were both growing up. Growing up or growing apart?

The metro screamed towards me, the cacophony of screeching metal making my teeth grind. I moved gratefully into the warm car and took a seat in the back.

My nerves were on high alert the whole way into the city. It’s been so long since I had an interview. I was heartily glad that I was meeting Ben afterwards. If it went badly, at least I was already done with the interview.

It had been ages since I stepped foot in my graphic design firm. I walked with some difficulty toward Union Square after leaving the BART, surrounded by hordes of tourists shopping at all the clothing stores. I opened the white doors to Cliff Graphic Design and approached the desk, my already tired legs shaking.

“Good morning.”

The receptionist gave me a friendly smile, which I returned feebly.

“I have a meeting at eleven.”

“Ah, yes. Natalie Porter? Right, go up stairs and it’s the second room on the left. He requested a conference room.”

I swallowed and nodded, thanking the receptionist before heading towards the elevator. I didn’t think I could handle a flight of stairs right now. What’s the problem? Don’t be so nervous.

The reflection in the shiny, metallic walls looked slightly ill. I stood straighter and wiped my hands over my slacks. Get it together. Whoever the client was, my agency seemed excited about them. I couldn’t wait to find out who they were.

The elevator doors opened and a massive seizure gripped my heart. I stepped out and walked down the hall, shoving open the door boldly. I forgot to knock—

A man with black, styled hair and hollow cheeks dressed in a smart, coal-grey suit looked up at me from the table and grinned. It took a moment for me to recognize him as William. He was so stunning that he looked like one of those unapproachable men I sometimes saw walking down the street in the city; the men who managed to make every female head they passed turn their way.

A lightning bolt shot up my arm. All the feelings I’d buried from the other night returned in full force. “Will! Ah—I have a meeting with a client.”

“I know. I’m the client,” he said baldly.

I looked down at his calm, satisfied face and had no idea what he wanted from me. When he left that night, he said, “Take care of yourself,” and I took that to mean that I’d never see him again. “Is this a game to you?”

“No,” he said in a grim voice. “Please, sit down.”

My whole body was shaking so badly that I could barely stand. I couldn’t believe the nerve of this guy that he would actually screw around with my schedule like this just to—what? What the hell did he want, now? Didn’t I fail his ridiculous interview?

His face was shrewd as he looked at me. I glanced at the desk, saw my portfolio spread in front of him, and my stomach clenched.

“I wanted to offer you a position as a contractor. It’s a temporary position that we need to fill for Luke’s Bed and Breakfast campaign. We’re going to review the sites in person, and if they qualify they’ll join the Pardini hotel chain.”

My ears were ringing. “You want me to work for you? Why?”

A flicker of surprise crossed his face. “Because you’re a talented artist. I got in touch with your agency and went through your designs. You’re perfect for this job.”

Perfect. That was not a word people used to describe me. It was so confusing. “But I thought that you decided not to hire me.”

“You’re the only one I can see myself getting along with.” He scanned me, his eyes darting back and forth.

He’s joking, right? I couldn’t help but laugh. “At dinner the other night, that was ‘getting along’ to you?”

“Compared to the others I interviewed, yeah.” He leaned across the table, his black tie dragging over it. “It’s a real job, Natalie. I looked at your portfolio and I was impressed. The job consists of you visiting these inns in the UK, France, and Italy. We need a graphic designer for the pamphlets and mailing lists. As the VP, I need to oversee the campaign and make sure it’s running smoothly.”

I burned all over. Was he suggesting what I thought he was? So, we’d travel together? “How much?”

He leaned back and cocked his head, giving me a smile that made my whole body hum with excitement. “Ten thousand dollars for a few weeks seems more than fair. All of your travel arrangements and meals will be taken care of. The contract is short, but if the executives love your work,” he shrugged, “you may be offered a full-time position.”