Chapter 3 THREE
When I wake, sunlight stabs through floor-to-ceiling windows. My head throbs like a drumline. I groan, pulling the sheets around me, realizing the bed is huge. Expensive. Too pristine to be mine.
And empty. Sebastian isn't here.
The room is luxury, far beyond anything I could afford. My pulse quickens. “Shit,” I whisper. “What the hell happened?”
I grab my phone and dial Avery.
“You’re alive,” she says dryly.
“Barely,” I croak. “What the hell did I do last night?”
“You passed out,” she replies. “Mr. Embers carried you out. You don’t remember? Girl! You were really freaky last night. Just how much did you drink?”
I flop back against the pillows, wondering how far we went. I don’t even know if we had sex. All I remember was trying to unbuckle his belt back at the club.
Then my phone pings. A new email. I tell Avery I’ll call her again.
I squint, scrolling through—and my stomach drops. It’s from one of the companies I applied to. It’s a follow-up email concerning an interview that is supposed to happen…today?
What? How did I miss the first e-mail?
“Oh God.” My heart races as I check for when it was sent. Almost a week ago.
Desperation fuels my fingers as I type back an apology, explaining I can come at any time. The reply is swift.
“Be here in one hour.”
I barely have time to throw on clean clothes and fix my makeup before I’m standing in the towering glass lobby of Lancaster Industries. My palms sweat as the receptionist ushers me toward a conference room.
“The CEO, Mr. Lancaster, just got back in town,” she says. “He’ll be present today.”
My stomach knots, and I give a nod, unsure of what to expect.
The door opens, and my blood turns to ice as I snap my head up to the sound of a familiar voice from across the center of the conference room table.
It’s him.
Seb Embers, except that he was introduced as Sebastian Lancaster. The man from last night. The man I kissed like I was starving.
Our eyes meet. His widen, then narrow. Mine nearly pop out of my skull.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I force myself into a chair, fumbling through my folder, presenting my certifications, and summarizing my idea in a shaky rush. My voice is steady enough, but my mind is screaming, "This is a nightmare." He knows. He knows.
The meeting ends too soon. Too awkward. I step outside, sucking in a lungful of air, and immediately call Avery.
“You would not believe who I just met at the interview.”
“Who?” she asks, distracted.
“Sebastian fucking Embers or Lancaster, the man I fucked yesterday!”
My knuckles are white where they grip the edge of the kitchen counter. A week. It’s been a week since I walked out of Wes’s penthouse, and my phone hasn’t stopped vibrating. Each time Wes’s name flashes on my screen, I let every call go to voicemail. Even though it’s been a week, I’ve not been able to stop thinking about Wes’ betrayal. I also subconsciously find my thoughts drifting to Sebastian. But I know I can’t work in the company. I didn’t just flop my interview; I made out with Sebastian just the night before my interview.
He probably thinks that I did it to win his favor so that I’ll be hired as the company’s new marketing strategist. I try to take my mind off everything, pushing my apartment door open as I hold the heavy bag of trash in my hands. The humid evening air hits me, thick and suffocating. I take two steps towards the dumpster when the world suddenly tilts. A wave of dizziness hits me, and it’s so violent that my knees buckle. The bag slips from my grasp, spilling onto the pavement. I grab for the brick wall, my heart hammering against my ribs.
My head spins.
“Lena!”
Avery’s voice cuts through the roaring in my ears, and she rushes over to me, her arm sliding around my waist, concern etched on her face. “Are you okay?”
I shake my head, and my palm touches my now sweaty forehead.
I almost lose my balance, but Avery is quick to help me.
“I think we need to go to the hospital.”
The emergency room is a sterile, fluorescent purgatory. The wait feels endless, every tick of the clock a hammer blow to my nerves. I’ve been nervous since Avery mentioned that my palms are white and casually asked if I might be pregnant.
When the doctor finally comes in, her face is kind. “Well, Lena, the bloodwork is back. It’s severe stress and a touch of dehydration. You need to rest.”
“What? I’m not pregnant?” I ask, surprised.
“I’m sorry to disappoint you if you were looking forward to the news of a pregnancy,” the doctor says, her voice penitent as she looks from Avery to me, but I immediately wave a hand.
“No! I…uh… I’m relieved.”
The relief is so profound I almost feel tears in my eyes. “Thank you,” I whisper.
As we walk out into the cool night air, the weight feels momentarily lifted. Sebastian is trouble. Avery was right all along. The last thing I want is to be entangled in any mess.
My phone pings with a new email. I almost ignore it, but something makes me look.
“SUBJECT: Lancaster Industries—Second Stage Application”
My breath hitches. I open it, my thumb trembling.
“Dear Ms. Lena, Thank you for your initial application. We are pleased to inform you that you have been shortlisted for the Junior Marketing Strategist position. Given an unexpected vacancy, the role is available immediately. All shortlisted applicants are required to be present tomorrow to make a presentation of their pitches. Kindly confirm your acceptance. Good luck.”
I stare at the screen, the words blurring. Tomorrow? It feels less like an opportunity and more like a trap snapping shut.
“What is it?” Avery asks, peering over my shoulder. She reads the email and lets out a low whistle. “Well, I’ll be damned. Is this fate, or one hell of a plot twist?”