“Nothing has happened. I’m a thousand percent sure he doesn't even know I exist.” I can hear her smile from over the phone, but I don't press.
“Well, if he ever comes to his senses, make sure to tell me so I can have a talk with him.”
“Ella! That’s disgusting.”
“Lizzie, I wasn't talking aboutthat, but now I’m thinking I should…” I trail off, mentally noting to do that if she ever introduces anyone to me.
“You’re worse than dad. Why are you guys so embarrassing?”
“It comes with the territory. We care about you, that’s all. And I’ve been in enough relationships to know all about them, so listen to me over Dad.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. What are you up to?”
“Well, troublemaker, I’m currently working on a campaign for an author that goes live on their social media tomorrow.” I smile, loving what I do as a freelancer. I’m glad that, even though my office job might be making me feel like shit lately, I still havesomethingthat brings me joy.
“Can you tell me who it is? I know I prefer movies to books, but I always love hearing your voice when you talk about this. You’re always so ecstatic, and I like hearing you like that.” My heart drops a little bit, because no matter how hard I try to keep my shit together, it kills me to know people, especially my sister, worry about me.
“Lizzie, I’m okay. I promise. But yes, I do love doing this. It’s fun combining my love for books and my degree. I’m working on a series of snippets for this one mafia author Paige and I both love. She’s the sweetest human ever, and I’d do this for free if she’d let me.”
“I think she knows how valuable you are, sis. She knows your worth.”
A smile overtakes my face at my sister knowing me a bit too well. “Thanks, Lizzie. Now, it’s late. You need to go to sleep. Get some rest.”
“Ella, it’s summer! You worry too much.”
“Forgive me for being a bit overprotective. I was a teenager once,” I say, knowing I didn't have the same experiences a normal teenager would. Part of me is melancholic for missing out, but I’m glad Lizzie is able to enjoy these years. After all, everything I did, I did to make sure she and my dad were okay—even if that meant sacrificing my entire childhood. I tell myself it’s fine, but my throat feels a bit heavy as I try to swallow. “Just be careful, especially if you go out at night with friends. The buddy system is important!”
“I know, sis. Have a good day tomorrow, and tell Alissa and the girls I say hi.”
“I will. I love you.” I smile, loving how close my sister is with my friends despite having only met them a few times.
“I love you, Ella.”
I end the call and stare at my laptop for a few seconds to decompress before I get to work. I have a bunch of content to make for an author I had a call with a few days ago. She hired me to make some videos and stagnant posts for her next release—a queer romance novel, to which I screamed at her how excited I was to read it.
I’ve been trying to get myself out there more with authors online, and my goal is to one day do this full-time, but for now, I have my day jobandthis side hustle.
I’m fucking exhausted, but if there’s one thing I’ve learned over the years, it’s that it takes a lot for me to quit something. I want this future for myself. I want it badly. And if it means working myself to death, then so be it.
Tuesday Morning
“I forgot the hotnew hire started yesterday.” Rae storms into my office before I’ve even sat down. “I’m so excited for some new eye candy. I didn’t get to see him Sunday and scope him out.”
Don’t make a face. Do not make an annoyed face at the fact that she called your worst nightmare hot.“Where did you hear that?”
“Adam told me, and I hear you’re the lucky bitch Imogen selected to train him.”
I roll my eyes. It’s an automated response every time I think, hear, or breathe near Leo Zimmerman. “I don’t know if lucky is the correct word,” I tell her as I slump in my chair. Today is the beginning of the worst time of my life. I’m sure I can’t get lower than this—having to work with him again. It was bad enough during our internship, but I’ve already promised myself I’m going totryto be professional with him.
But I know when I see him, all my professionalism is going to fly out the window.
Rae raises both of her eyebrows as she leans forward in her chair. “Is this an open or closed door conversation?”
“Closed.”
“On it,” she says as she kicks my door closed with her foot. “I assume this isn’t a good story based on the look on your face.”
I smooth down my cream-colored pantsuit before I try to be as nice as possible. “We went to college together, and he is my worst nightmare.”