Page 11 of Ansel

It was the empty space where Neha should have been. The office felt colder without her, and the days stretched too long without her quick wit, sharp mind, and quiet care.

Fucking hell! I missed her.And not just as my assistant.

I let my insecurities—my fear of not being good enough for this career—push me away from the one person who had worked tirelessly to ensure that Iwasmore than good enough.

I had no one to blame but myself.

“Come in,” I called when there was a knock on my door.

“Ansel, would you like me to bring you lunch from the café?” Joanna asked.

I nodded. “Thanks, Joanna. I’ll have the steak salad.”

She beamed.

“Ah, with the chimichurri dressing,” I added because she wouldn’t know. And just like that I was back to the words that were running themselves ragged inside of me:Neha would know.

I’d have to pay attention to things in a different way now because I didn’t have Neha to take care of me.

She took care of me. Day in and day out.

What had she said?

“You somehow figured out that I had feelings for you.”

Well, she probably didn’t have the same loving fuzzy ones she used to, I thought sardonically, wanting to kick myself.

It wasn’t how she felt about me that made me uncomfortable, it was howIfelt abouther.

I wanted Neha.

My eyes tracked her all the time. I looked forward to her bringing me coffee every morning. I had fallen for her, and I’d resisted it because that wasn’t something you did if you wanted to have a successful career. Having a relationship with your assistant was a damned cliché.

What I regretted most wasn’t that I had let her go—it was how I did it. I had humiliated her first.God, I couldn’t even remember all the shit I had said to Vanessa—but I knew it hadn’t been good. I’d basically dismissed Neha as not capable enough to continue working for me. And it hadn’t just been words because I had acted on it—gone to HR and had her severance contract drafted.

I buried my face in my hands and measured my loss, the one I deserved.

6

PLAYED LIKE A FOOL

ANSEL

“Honestly, you’re an assholeandan idiot,” Charlie informed me when we met for drinks at The Dead Rabbit, since Sterling employees didn’t usually frequent it.

The bar was a far cry from the sleek rooftop bars where most finance guys liked to throw their weight around, which was why I liked it.

The ground floor, the Taproom, was casual and packed with people unwinding after work over pints of Guinness, so we went to the Parlor upstairs, where the cocktails were legendary, and the noise was just low enough for a conversation that, judging by my friend’s expression, was going to be unpleasant for me.

“Tell me something I don’t know.” I swirled my old fashioned, the scent of orange and whiskey rising as Charlie gave me a look that said he was about to enjoy tearing into me.

“How could you fall for Vanessa’s bullshit?”

“We’re friends…were friends,” I mumbled.

“She’snotyour friend. You know she wanted your promotion.”

“Well, we’re peers so, yeah.”

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