Chapter 40 Chapter Forty
Lena’s POV
Sebastian doesn’t even look up when I step into his office. He’s seated behind that massive desk like a king carved out of frost and expensive wood, tapping something on his tablet with a controlled, irritated rhythm. I’m still catching my breath from practically speed-walking here after Tessa summoned me like a fire alarm.
When he finally raises his head, his eyes cut straight through me.
“We’re having a work trip,” he says, as if he’s announcing a verdict and not, you know… a normal sentence.
My brain stutters.
“A… work trip?”
“Yes.”
The word is a stone dropped in water. No ripples. No elaboration.
I swallow. “Who’s going?”
He doesn’t blink. “What do you think?”
The coldness snaps through the air, sharp enough that I flinch. I clamp my lips shut. Of course he’s not going to explain anything. That would be too humane.
I try again. “So… the whole marketing team and you?”
He just watches me like I’ve said something mildly stupid. And maybe I have—because the answer is obviously no. Because nothing about him is group-project energy. He’s too in control. Too private. Too… Sebastian.
My stomach knots.
That means Sienna might be there.
Oh God.
I picture her face—smug, fake-sick, very naked under Wes just yesterday. My chest tightens. Panic threatens to spike up my throat, but I force my expression neutral.
He doesn’t know she’s not sick.
And I’m not going to tell him.
There is no universe where I voluntarily trap myself with her on a work trip.
“The trip is in two days,” he continues. “Prepare accordingly.”
Two. Days.
Two days is nothing. It’s barely enough time to emotionally recover from finding my ex inside Sienna. It’s not enough time to pack properly, fix my hair, shave my legs, redo my nails, reassemble my dignity, mentally prepare myself for close proximity to Sebastian, AND function like a working adult.
“You have the liberty to close early today,” he adds. “Put things in place.”
“Okay.”
My voice comes out flatter than intended.
“We’ll leave very early the day after tomorrow.”
I nod, even though my insides are screaming.
He already looks back at his tablet, done with me. Like the conversation is over. Like I’m a file he has closed.
I walk out stiffly, keeping my inhale locked inside my lungs until the elevator doors close behind me. The moment I’m alone, I finally exhale shakily, pressing my hand against my chest.
What is wrong with him?
Actually—no.
What is wrong with me?
I can’t keep doing this—feeling thrown around by every flicker of his mood. One minute he’s cold. The next minute he’s devastatingly thoughtful. Then he’s biting. Then he’s gentle. Then insulting. Then something that feels like… danger. Attraction. Something I do not have the emotional stability to identify.
I shouldn’t care.
I tell myself that approximately ten million times a day.
But the truth presses against me anyway.
I am falling for him.
I hate it.
And I deny it. Over and over. Because the plan is NOT this. Falling for my boss? Falling for him? The man who can’t decide if he wants to kiss me or fire me?
No. Not happening.
Not allowed.
Absolutely not.
I leave work early like he said—not because he told me to, but because if I stay one more minute thinking about him, I might actually combust.
By the time I arrive home, my key is barely in the lock before—
“Surprise, surprise!”
Avery’s voice explodes from inside our apartment.
I scream a little. Only a little.
Then I drop my bag and launch myself at her like a koala tackling a tree.
“Oh my God!” I choke out, hugging her tight. “You’re alive!”
She laughs in my ear, squeezing me so hard I swear my ribs shift. “Barely! I missed you so much! I feel like I’ve been gone for ten years.”
“It feels like it.”
Emotion hits my throat for a second—something warm and desperate and relief-shaped. “I missed you so much, Ave.”
She pulls back, mock-offended. “I texted!”
“Once. With an emoji. A cactus, Avery. What does a cactus even mean?”
She shrugs brightly. “He was cute.”
Typical.
I drag her to the couch, overflowing with questions. “Okay, talk. Why haven’t you been in touch? What’s happening? Why are you glowing? Why do you smell expensive? Why—”
“We’re dating!” she cuts in, unable to hold it in any longer. “Me and my Latino guy.”
I blink.
“No introduction? No preamble? Just—boom—relationship?”
“Yes!”
She’s practically vibrating. “And Lena… he is… magnificent. God took a day off to build this man.”
I groan-laugh. “Avery…”
“His accent? His mouth? His—”
“Please don’t ruin my furniture with details.”
She ignores me completely. “And he’s so good in bed—I swear I nearly cried. Actual tears.”
I cover my face. “Oh my God.”
“I’m serious! He’s incredible. Everything fits—like we’re puzzle pieces.”
I want to be disgusted, but her happiness is a sunbeam. It warms me despite everything.
“You look really happy,” I say softly.
She softens too. “I am.”
But then she pauses, tilting her head, eyes narrowing as she studies me like a detective from a telenovela.
“…You’re not,” she says.
“What?”
I laugh too quickly. Too high-pitched. Definitely suspicious.
“Lena.”
One eyebrow rises. She shifts fully toward me, folding her legs under herself. “What happened? Something’s off.”
I hesitate.
Because where do I even start?
Sienna.
Wes.
Sebastian.
The whiplash.
The mood swings.
The attraction I keep pretending isn’t there.
The work trip I’m not prepared for.
My entire emotional infrastructure collapsing like a bad Jenga tower.
“I just…” I sigh, pressing my fingers to my temples. “Work has been… a lot.”
Avery snorts. “Work is always a lot.”
“No, like… a different kind of a lot. Sebastian has been—” I stop.
She pounces on the name. “Sebastian? Mmm.”
“No. Don’t start.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You thought something.”
She leans back with a sly smirk. “You’re talking about him with emotion… that’s new.”
I glare at her. “He’s frustrating me.”
“Oooh, passionate frustration. Sexy.”
“Avery!”
She laughs, kicking her feet up. “Okay, okay. What happened?”
I sigh again. “He told me there’s a work trip in two days.”
Avery freezes. “Two days?”
“Yes.”
“As in… forty-eight hours?”
“Yes.”
“And you’re going to be alone with him?”
“We don’t know the details yet.”
“Uh-huh. Sure.”
She crosses her arms. “Lena. That’s intimate proximity.”
“It’s not intimate proximity. It’s work.”
“Work.”
She says the word like she doesn’t believe in its existence.
I bury my face in a pillow. “Why is this my life?”
Avery taps my knee. “Wait, wait. How long is the trip?”
“I don’t know.”
“Is the hotel fancy?”
“I don’t know.”
“Are you going to be in enclosed, emotionally dangerous spaces with him?”
“Probably.”
She gasps dramatically, hand covering her heart. “Girl. You haven’t prepared emotionally, mentally, spiritually, or cosmetically. That’s a crisis.”
“I KNOW.”
She stands abruptly. “We’re making a list.”
“What?”
“A LIST. Emergency-preparation list for your emergency-work-trip-with-your-emergency-boss.”
She grabs a pen and paper like she’s defusing a bomb.
“Okay,” she announces, clicking the pen. “First things first—are you falling for him?”
I freeze.
“Absolutely not.”
She stares at me.
I stare back.
She doesn’t blink.
I don’t either.
Finally, she scoffs. “Lying to your best friend is violent.”
I groan. “I don’t— I just… he’s confusing. And I don’t understand him. And I’m stressed. And it’s not like that.”
She tilts her head, studying me.
“…Are you sure?”
My silence answers for me.
“Oh, Lena.” she whispers, softer this time. “You’re in trouble.”
I hate that she’s right.
I hate that my stomach flips when he looks at me.
I hate that I can still feel the chill of his voice from earlier.
I hate that he gets under my skin so easily.
I hate that part of me actually wants to look good on this stupid trip.
And then—
“Wait.” Avery blinks. “Two days?”
“YES.”
She sucks in a sharp breath. “How the hell are you going to prepare in that timeframe?”
I stare at her blankly.
“I have no idea.”