Page 18 of Pretty Little Threats

Is this all I’m meant to be?

Aside from my infrequent trips to the gym, all my recent happy hours were business related. The majority of my life revolves around work. I don’t even know the last time I hung out with anyone besides Cassia.

The fewrelationshipsI’ve had were born out of lust and killed by reality. Boredom. Wandering interests. Incompatibilities. Dad warned me early and often that fairy tales don’t exist.

Every man I’ve ever dated has proven him right.

Trying to find love definitely hasn’t worked out for me.Even if I find someone, the relationship won’t be some grand escape from all my obligations. Like it or not, I’ve done everything my dad wanted, and now I’m deep in the corporate world.

My reflection frowns back at me, but I force myself to smile until I can pretend to believe that this corporate life is everything I’ve ever wanted.

JD Miller & Co is housed within the second tallest building in the financial district of New York City. The dark gray granite slabs with white veining gleam from a fresh cleaning. Sunlight spills through the windows lining all four walls of the lobby, highlighting the pretty floor-to-ceiling mural behind the general receptionist’s desk. The walls, a creamy white, are accentuated with elegant silver fixtures. Freestanding plants are scattered throughout, bringing a sense of calm to the building full of people whose only mode is rushed.

The main elevators are right off the lobby, but those specific to the executives of our company are set off to the side. I make it through security without incident and grin when I see Irene, wearing her knee-length black dress and name tag.

“Morning, Ms. Miller.” The elevator attendant is in her early sixties, with streaks of gray in her otherwise dark brunette hair, and wears her smile like it’s a weapon. She always has a spare bagel ready for me, and she was the first person I remember who truly cared about how I was doing after my mom died.

“Good morning, Irene.” I take the food she’s offering. “You spoil me.” Irene definitely holdsa special place in my heart, and the bagel tradition gives me hope that I hold space in hers as well.

“Have to keep my favorite Miller fed and happy, now, don’t I?”

“How’s your morning?” I take a bite and hum in approval.

“Can’t complain.” She brushes her hands down her starched uniform. “Your father arrived about an hour ago.”

“Mood?”

She presses the call button for the elevator. “Neutral. It’s going to be a good day,” she predicts. She’s worked for JD Miller & Co long enough to know the deal, and her insight always helps me prepare for the day.

If Dad shows up grumpy, there’s a good chance the day will suck.

I grin. “Let’s hope so.”

The elevator arrives with a ding. “Don’t work too late,” she calls as I step on. Last week, she asked me if I ever went out with my friends. I’d lied and said yes because I didn’t want to admit that it’s been years since I’ve taken a break for anything fun.

“I won’t.” My stomach grumbles, and I say, “Thank you for feeding me,” before taking another bite.

“My pleasure, Ms. Miller.”

I narrow my eyes at her, but there’s no use in telling her to call me Rose. She’s refused to use my first name for years. I thought I could wear her down, but she’s stronger than me. “Have a good day, Irene.”

She grins and dips her head in acknowledgement.

Once the doors are closed, I pull out my phone and text Cassia. Irene’s words compounded my worries that I’m wasting my youth.

Rose

Hey—do you want to do something tonight?

Cassia

We could have drinks at my place? I can order Thai food.

Perfect! See you tonight. I’m heading into a board meeting.

That sounds terrible, honestly.

My best friend, a freelance IT specialist and moonlight hacker, is definitely not made for the corporate world.

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