Page 123 of Make Me Yours
With a smirk, he grabs his keys. “Waffles is in the kitchen, glaring at her bowl. Pretty sure she’s demanding a tuna breakfast.”
I laugh as her faint meow echoes down the hall. “She’s so dramatic. Wonder who she gets that from.”
Steele winks on his way to the door. “Text me if you get bored. Or lonely. Or hungry. Or if you need a refill on that wine you like.”
“I’ll see you when you get back.”
He’s halfway out when he tosses a grin over his shoulder. “Damn right you will.”
The elevator doors close, and just like that, the penthouse is quiet again. It’s me and Waffles. The kitten hops onto the bed and settles beside me for a catnap.
An hour later, I’m dressed and looking through Steele’s upcoming schedule when my phone buzzes with a message from Ashley, my old assistant from the law firm.
Ashley:
Hey! Sorry for the short notice, but we have a box of your stuff here. Any chance you could swing by to pick it up?
My heart flip-flops. I haven’t been back since walking in on Devon and Marissa.
Me:
Yeah, sure. I can come by this morning.
There’s a pause before the typing dots reappear.
Ashley:
It’ll be waiting for you at the front desk.
I stare at the screen for a second as a little sting hits me.
Ouch.
Guess I’m no longer welcome upstairs.
After feeding Waffles a little bit of tuna and then pulling myself together, I grab my keys and head down to the garage. My Audi has been parked here at Steele’s building ever since I left Devon’s apartment, and it’s weird how quickly I’ve started thinking of this place as home.
The drive to my old office is short, but my thoughts are loud.
By the time I park and walk through the front doors, my stomach is churning. It’s strange being back here. Strange knowing this part of my life is officially behind me.
Ashley steps out of the elevator, a small cardboard box cradled in her arms. Her eyes widen when she spots me.
“Lilah,” she says, hurrying over and giving me a slightly awkward one-armed hug. “I’m so sorry about everything. I didn’t know what to say.”
“It’s okay,” I tell her gently. “Really.”
She hands over the box. It’s the last of my things. A few books, some pens, a paperweight shaped like a gavel. The kind of stuff that feels heavier than it should.
“So,” Ashley says, biting her lip. “What firms have you applied to?”
I shift my weight. “Actually… I don’t think I’m going back. Not to law. At least, not right now.”
Her brows rise. “Really?”
“Yeah.” I glance down at the box in my hands. “I think I want to do something different. Something that makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning.”
As the words leave my mouth, I realize just how true they are. And for the first time in a while, theyfeelright.
