Page 14 of The Toy Collector

Lena freezes mid-sip. “Wait… what?”

I let the whiskey sit untouched, the fury too loud to taste anything but her humiliation as I listen intently while my toy explains how the interview went down, and what was said to her advisor.

The idea of anyone making her feel small sends something ugly crawling beneath my skin. I sabotaged her, yes—but I never asked Lauren to call anyone, that was her own initiative. One I’m not appreciating at all. Clenching my own glass tighter, I feel the heat of her humiliation like it’s mine.

“… basically, she said that I was difficult,” Piper finishes. The words fall from her lips like something she’s repeating rather than believing, but I hear the hitch in her voice. The flicker of something cracked.

“She said all that to your advisor?” Lena asks, her tone sharp like she’s angry on Piper’s behalf.

More buzzing from my phone.

My toy nods. “Yeah. Luckily, Mrs. Ellis said she believed me. But still…”

“She’s a fucking psycho,” Lena declares heatedly. “No one even likes Lauren Chase. She only got her position because her dad donates buildings.”

“She made me feel…” Piper pauses. Breathes. “…stupid.”

No, my little toy. You’re not stupid. You just don’t know you’re being nudged toward your rightful place on the board. I take another sip of whiskey, slower this time, letting the burn crawl down my throat.

A few minutes pass in silence while the second round of drinks is ordered and prepared. Piper finishes her first one slower than Lena, but it’s gone before the new ones hit the table. Her fingers tap restlessly on the glass stem until she catches herself and stops.

“I just… I worked so hard to get here,” she finally says, staring at the soft pink drink in front of her like it might hold an answer. “It’s not supposed to fall apart like this.”

It’s not falling apart. It’s being redesigned.

“Maybe she’s threatened by you,” Lena suggests, taking a sip of the fresh drink.

Piper huffs a laugh. “By what? My rapidly shrinking career options?”

“I’m serious.” Lena’s voice sharpens. “You’re smart. You’re well-spoken. And you don’t suck up to women like her. That’s threatening.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“I keep thinking maybe it’s me,” she whispers, her voice barely audible over the hum of conversation and low music. “Maybe I just don’t belong in this world.” She wipes under her eye before anything falls. Just a flick of her thumb—so fast, so casual, anyone else would miss it. But I don’t. I see the crack.

My jaw flexes as I lift my glass, letting the whiskey coat my tongue before I swallow. The flavor doesn’t register. All I can taste is the bitterness in her tone. The fact that she’s sitting there, thinking she’s not enough for a world I’m actively reshaping to fit her into.

She’s cut out for all of it. She just hasn’t been handed the right tools yet.

“Hey!” Lena snaps. “None of that, Pipes. Lauren Chase is a stuck up cunt who doesn’t deserve your tears. You got more talent than she does in her pinky.”

“Right,” Piper croaks.

“I mean it,” Lena continues, relentless in her defense of her best friend. “How about we just have some fun? Let loose for once and forgetabout stuck up bitches.”

Piper giggles softly. “Forget about who?”

“Exactly,” Lena cackles.

When my phone makes itself known yet again, I’m just about to pull it out and tell whomever is blowing it up to fuck off. Before I fish it out of my pocket, movement catches my attention from the periphery.

Two men approach, drinks in hand with confidence that wasn’t earned. I’ve seen their kind a thousand times. They carry themselves like they’ve inherited charm instead of building it. One of them holds a full pitcher of Cosmopolitan. The other has the nerve to wear a smirk before even opening his mouth.

They’re approaching too casually, angling toward the booth like it’s already theirs. “Hey sweethearts,” the taller guy drawls. “How about some company?”

His friend chuckles and rolls his eyes. “What my friend here meant to say is hi, he’s Daniel and I’m Chris.”

Lena’s head lifts, always quick to notice attention. Her smile is automatic. “Is that for us?” she giggles, nodding her head toward the pitcher.

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