Page 66 of Worth the Wait

"I saw the photograph in your drawer," I admit. "You looked happy."

Something breaks in her expression—a hairline fracture in perfect porcelain. "I was," she says, the simple admission carrying the weight of years of regret. "We both were. Rising stars at Miller & Walsh, engaged to be married, partnership track ahead of us."

She turns back to the window, as if the memories are easier to face when not looking at me directly. "We were careful. Professional during office hours, discreet about our relationship. But careful isn't always enough."

"What happened?" I ask, though I can guess the outline.

"Senior partner worked late one night. Walked in on us in David's office." Her mouth twists bitterly. "Nothing even particularly scandalous—just a kiss, his hand in my hair. But that was enough."

She runs a perfectly manicured finger along the edge of her desk, the gesture somehow making her seem more human than I've ever seen her. "The partners called it a 'character issue' in my review. Said they were concerned about my judgment, my professional boundaries. Meanwhile, David received a formal warning and made partner six months later."

The familiar injustice of it tightens my chest. How many women have similar stories? How many careers derailed while their male counterparts flourished?

"I'm sorry that happened to you," I say, meaning it despite everything she's done.

Her head snaps up, eyes narrowing. "I don't want your pity, Tarryn. I want you to understand what you're risking." Her voice drops, becoming almost gentle. "I'm not your enemy. I'm what happens when women like us forget that in this world, we don't get to have everything."

The sadness in her voice strikes deeper than her previous threats ever could. Because part of me knows she's right—the world does judge women more harshly, does create impossible standards, does force us to make choices men rarely face.

"I know about you and Jackson," she continues, voice hardening. "But do you know he offered to support my bid for senior counsel when Miguel gets ousted if I'd overlook your… indiscretion?"

The accusation landslike a physical blow. "I don't believe you."

"Why wouldn't you? Men protect their interests first, Tarryn. Always." She moves closer, her expression almost sympathetic. "He gets the promotion, you get a few nights of passion, and when it falls apart—which it will—your reputation is the one that suffers."

My hands clench at my sides, anger surging through me. "You're lying. He already told me everything."

"Am I? Ask him about our conversation in his office last week." Her smile is tired now, resigned. "He's using you, just like David used me. The difference is I'm trying to save you from my mistakes."

"I'm done with your games," I say, finding strength in my rising fury. "I'm going to Miguel."

Christine's laugh is cold, brittle. "With what? Accusations about me trying to protect your career? Complaints that I caught you nearly kissing in the copy room?" She shakes her head. "Good luck. He'll never believe you over me."

She moves to the door, opening it with deliberate slowness. "This isn't over, Tarryn. When it all falls apart—and it will—don't say I didn't warn you. Now do us both a favor and get the hell out of my office."

I step out into the hallway as she slams the door behind me. I remain standing there, my heart pounding against my ribs. The confrontation didn't go as I'd planned. Instead of exposing her manipulation, I find myself questioning everything—Jackson's motives, my own judgment, the possibility that Christine might be right about some things even as she's wrong about others.

My hands shake slightly as I pull out my phone, typing a message to Jackson.

Me: Need to see you tonight. My place after work. Important.

He responds immediately.

Jackson: Of course, I'll be there.

I stare at his reply, wondering if I've just made everything worse. Christine's poison has found its target, seeding doubt where certainty once grew. Tonight, I need answers—not just about Christine's claims, but about what we're really fighting for in this increasingly complicated game.

Is it the promotion?Our careers? Or something deeper, more fundamental, that's worth the risks we're taking? The question follows me back to my office, settling into my bones like a chill I can't quite shake.

Chapter 16

Jackson

The evening air chills my skin as I stand outside Tarryn's apartment building, waiting for her to buzz me up, her urgent text from earlier still echoing in my head.

Need to see you tonight. My place after work. Important.

The buzzer sounds and I make my way up inside. She opens the door, looking both exhausted and anxious as hell.

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