Chapter 58
The meeting dragged on for another two hours. Julian kept glancing at me like he wanted to say something, then his jaw would tighten and he'd look away.
When James finally announced we were done, I gathered my things and followed Julian out.
Outside Sterling Global, Julian handed me his keys. "You drive."
I slid into the driver's seat of his Audi.
Julian got in, made a few work calls. When he hung up, the silence stretched.
"Miss Bennett," he said quietly. "About earlier. The lunch thing. I was just trying to—"
"Joke around," I finished. Kept my eyes on the road. "I know, Mr. Garrison. It's fine."
"I didn't mean to—"
"Really. It's fine." I signaled, changed lanes. "I'm not mad anymore."
And I wasn't. Not really. Compared to some of the bosses I'd dealt with—executives who screamed, men who threw phones, the ones who thought their money bought them the right to treat people like garbage—Julian was practically a saint.
Sure, he had a reputation. The playboy thing, the revolving door of women, the jokes that sometimes landed wrong. But he paid well. He didn't micromanage. And when I needed to leave early for Amy, he never made me feel guilty about it.
Working meant dealing with shit. That was just reality. If I held a grudge every time someone messed with me, I'd spend all my energy being angry instead of getting things done.
Better to let it go. Move on. Focus on what mattered—keeping this job, keeping Amy fed and safe. Besides, I still had to work with Julian. Making things awkward between us wouldn't help anyone.
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I drove Julian back to Garrison Industries and dropped him off. Then I headed back to the office myself—still had half an hour left on the clock.
I filed reports, answered emails, prepped documents for tomorrow's follow-up meeting. Standard shit. My brain was on autopilot.
When six o'clock finally hit, I grabbed my bag and got out of there.
The drive home was slow—rush hour traffic clogging up Mass Ave. I kept the radio off. Didn't want noise. Just wanted to get home, see Amy, forget this entire day existed.
I parked on my street in Somerville. The October air bit through my jacket as I walked toward my building.
Then I saw him.
Adam. Standing under a streetlight, cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled around his face.
I could've turned around. But my feet kept moving.
"Mr. Sterling," I said as I passed. "You should quit smoking. Bad for your health. Bad for everyone around you too."
He looked up. Those gray-green eyes locked onto mine. "You're worried about me."
"I'm not."
"Liar." His mouth curved—not quite a smile. "You always cared too much."
Typical. Men always think they know what women really feel.
I kept walking toward the entrance. My heels clicked against the pavement.
"Julian confessed his feelings to you, didn't he?"
I stopped. Turned around.
What?
How the fuck does he know?
"He was joking," I said. "Julian jokes around. He doesn't actually—"
"Doesn't he?"
Adam pulled out his phone. Tapped the screen. A recording started playing—two male voices, slightly muffled but clear enough.
"Did you hear? I heard Julian tried to put a ring on Maya Bennett. Wanted to marry her."
"Wait, seriously? Little Garrison wanted to marry his assistant?"
"Yeah. Old man Thomas shut it down. They had a huge fight in the office—loud as hell. But Thomas won. Told Julian to keep her as his assistant, set him up with the Hartley girl instead."
"So Bennett's just stuck in the middle?"
"Stuck or playing both sides. Everyone says she and Julian have been hooking up since Cleveland. That's how she got promoted to headquarters."
Adam stopped the recording. The silence felt like a punch.
"Caught that after the meeting," he said quietly. "Couple of your company's employees gossiping in the hallway." He pocketed the phone. "Still think he was joking?"
I couldn't speak.
I knew. I fucking knew Julian meant it.
When his eyes had gone soft and desperate, some part of me had recognized the truth. But I'd let him call it a joke. Because I needed this job.
"Adam, why are you telling me this?" My voice came out flat. "Why can't you just let me pretend I don't know?"
His face went cold. Hard. "Maya, what the hell? You're planning to play dumb? Stay by his side and act like nothing happened?"
"This job pays my rent. It pays for Amy's daycare."
"Bullshit." He stepped closer. "With your experience? You could work anywhere. Pick a company. I'll make a call. Come to Sterling Global—name your position."
My laugh came out sharp. "Adam, you don't understand."
"I don't understand? I don't know what you're hesitating about?" His jaw clenched. "Even if you quit, you've still got me. I can take care of you. I can take care of Amy."
I looked up at him. "Mr. Sterling, we don't have a relationship anymore."
I'd never depend on him. Not now, not ever. Even if we got back together—which we wouldn't—I'd never let myself rely on a man for survival.
People left. They always did. You could only count on yourself.
Men said pretty things. I'll take care of you. I'll provide. You'll never have to worry. But the second you stopped fighting for yourself, the second you got comfortable? They'd pull the rug out.
My own mother hadn't wanted to raise me. Why would I trust a man with no blood ties to stick around?
Feelings fade. Promises break. Money doesn't lie.
The numbers on my paycheck didn't care if I gained weight or said the wrong thing at a party. My bank account didn't wake up one day and decide I wasn't worth it anymore. My salary didn't ghost me without explanation.
That money was real. Concrete. Mine.
And only the money I earned myself—the money I fought for, bled for, sacrificed for—could never be taken back.
"It's you who won't give me a chance." Adam's voice was rough. Low. "Maya, I'm serious."
I looked away from his eyes. "Adam, I'll handle my own business. Amy's waiting for me."
I stepped around him. Headed for the entrance.