Chapter 8

That way, I also discovered that he didn’t break the barriers of my heart as I thought he was capable of doing. I only saw a lifeboat in the middle of the sea waving at me, and I clung to it as if my life depended on it. But when reality pulled me back, I understood that Ashton was just another pastime. He is like all the others who have been in my bed and were nothing more than sex.

The crack where my heart should be remains open, and I keep looking for someone capable of closing it. Because it’s desperate to feel that the days of pain are endless while the happy ones always have an expiration date.

Even though I have good memories stored away, it’s the bad ones that dictate how I live my life and how I feel about everything and everyone.

As soon as the elevator doors open, I follow the guys to the right and then to the left. Finally, we’re standing in front of a large room, which I can peek into through the slightly open door. The meeting table is almost entirely occupied by The Reckless team and Magdalene’s — including herself, already seated — waiting for the other band members to start.

I walk toward Magda, and the moment her eyes land on me, probably analyzing my knee-high leather boots, the tight black dress reaching mid-thigh, and the white blazer, her expression turns into disapproval. I’ve worked with her long enough to know when she’s judging me, but I don’t care.

I pull out a chair to sit beside her.

“Excuse me.”

Magda clears her throat, raising her voice, drawing everyone’s attention to me.

“You can leave. You won’t be participating in the meeting.”

She studies me from head to toe, and embarrassed, I glance around.

As if mocking fate, Ashton has his dark eyes glued to me. The bruises from the fight are all over his face—mouth, nose, chin, and eyebrows. However, the blood is gone, and a few butterfly bandages cover the cuts.

“Why?” I murmur the question, avoiding a scene.

Magda removes her glasses and sighs, spinning in her chair.

“You’re late. You know I hate delays.”

“I arrived on time. I was just talking to…”

“It doesn’t matter who you were with. If you can’t take our commitments seriously, you don’t even deserve to be here. You know our policy, and the priority is always the clients.”

My jaw tightens. I feel the pain in it, and a sudden urge to cry makes the burning behind my eyes unbearable. I have a response ready on the tip of my tongue, but I need to cling to this job with all my strength and at least try to gain something from it. I can’t answer her the way I want to.

Magdalene Saylor is one of the most influential designers. Having worked for her on my resume will open countless doors for me.

I repeat to myself like a mantra that this is temporary until my tears succumb to the determination to make this job work. I straighten my posture, pull myself together, and look at her with a smile that hides the discomfort on my face.

“You’re right,” I whisper, and even though I try to control where my eyes go, they land on Ashton, who studies me with a furrowed brow. “I’m sorry, Magda. I’ll wait outside.”

“Go back to the atelier and confirm our other meetings. If you do well, I might let you participate in one of them.”

“I’ll do that.”

I push the chair back into place and begin to walk away, hoping no one notices how embarrassed I am or how my throat feels like a sponge suffocating me as I approach the door.

“Is she your apprentice?”

I hear the rough voice over my shoulder and, before reaching the door, I turn on my heel, glaring at the owner of the voice with anger.

“What?” Magda says in an amused tone.

“It says here that she’s your apprentice.”

Ashton flips through some papers on the table, keeping his focus on Magdalene.

“Why are you treating her like someone disposable on your team?”

Wrinkles crease his forehead as he confronts her.

Shut up! Shut up!

That’s what I want to scream at him, but this boy’s impulsiveness is unbearable on catastrophic levels, and I think that if I try to stop him, I’ll only provoke him further.

Ashton hates being contradicted, but even more, he hates being challenged.

“She wasn’t late. She arrived with the other members of The Reckless. So why the hell are you sending her away?”

“Ashton.”

Jared, the manager, reprimands him from the head of the table upon hearing his language.

“I’m just asking,” he justifies succinctly, not taking his eyes off Magdalene.

Every muscle in his face seems tense, and even though I’m ready to leave, I can’t take another step. He’s going to ruin the rest of my week if he pisses her off.

“That doesn’t matter. It’s up to me to decide how to handle my team, not you,” she challenges. And from what little I know about them, my chance of gaining any visibility working with The Reckless is going down the drain.

“Why? Did she sleep with you too?”

At that moment, my stomach churns, and Ashton’s stormy gaze locks onto mine.

“It wouldn’t surprise me, considering her reputation and yours.”

Magda relaxes, leaning back against her chair.

“Gravity is talented, but she has a bad habit. Just this month, I had to fire two of my best employees because she couldn’t keep her legs closed.”

The heat rises, and I feel myself flush from the base of my neck to my head, where a sharp pain spreads quickly, and shame consumes me. His eyes still weigh on me.

“And if she did?”

“I’d tell you we can’t work together. I don’t mix work with relationships.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.”

Shoving the chair back, Ashton stands up, marching toward me with his chest puffed and his gaze burning with rage.

I step aside when I realize he has no intention of swerving or stopping because I’m in the way. Without looking at me, he walks through the door with an impenetrable mask on his face.

The others seated at the table also rise, and I hear Jared and Avalon muttering apologies to Magdalene, saying they need time to talk with the team and will get back in touch.

I’ve been in a few other meetings with Magda, and we all know that it doesn’t matter who’s sitting on the other side of the table—if they don’t close the deal that day, the first chance is gone, and a second one is unlikely.

I remain frozen in place, watching everyone leave, passing by me.

When it’s Magdalene’s turn, my thoughts are sluggish, and I’m definitely trying to come up with an excuse for her, but I don’t know which one would be most acceptable.

What Ashton did has nothing to do with defending me or opposing an abusive attitude—it’s about venting his anger over what happened moments before this meeting. He’s taking out his frustration over Sawyer’s attack on me.

Ashton’s collateral damage always affects the people closest to him, and today, unfortunately, that person is me.

Magda stands stiff and upright in front of me.

“Magda, I’m sorry. We know each other, and maybe he…”

“You’re fired.”

“What?!”

The disbelief lowers my voice to a stunned whisper.