Inside, the quiet is a welcome relief from the music and chatter. I step up to the sink, turning on the water and splashing coolness onto my face, letting it chase away the tightness in my chest. My hands grip the edge of the counter as I stare at my reflection.
What am I doing? Where do I fit in Rory’s life, really?
I press my fingers against my temples, willing the unease away. Maybe I just need to let go of the idea of having Rory all to myself tonight. He has responsibilities, and I know that.
The bathroom door swings open, and I instinctively still at the sound of heels clicking against the tile.
“Honestly, Callie, you should go for it,” Miranda’s voice carries through the room, light and teasing. “You and Rory would be perfect together.”
I tense.
Callie laughs, the sound warm and amused. “Oh, come on. He’s barely looked at me twice that way. If anything, he seems more interested in his assistant.”
My heart clenches.
Miranda scoffs. “Clary? Please. She’s got bigger dreams than settling with her boss.”
I suck in a sharp breath, my fingers curling against the counter.
I know Miranda doesn’t mean anything cruel by it. She’s never known about my feelings for Rory—never known about us. To her, I’m just a driven, ambitious woman who’s neveronce mentioned wanting a relationship, let alone one with my employer. She’s probably just looking out for me in the way she thinks is best.
But it still stings.
I swallow down the lump in my throat and force myself to breathe evenly. There’s no reason to let this get to me.
But their words linger as I wait for the two of them to leave the ladies’ room.
Would Callie be a better fit for Rory? The thought worms its way in, unwelcome and insistent. She’s sophisticated, graceful, charming, and poised—everything I’m not. And Rory does seem interested in her, always quick with a compliment, always admiring how effortlessly she fits into this world.
And me? I’m just his assistant. His pet.
I touch the cool metal of my collar, my fingers tracing the smooth edges of the pendant. He gave this to me, locked it around my throat like a claim. But what if that’s all it is? A claim, nothing more?
Rory has always been clear about what he wants. He doesn’t do relationships. He doesn’t make promises. But Callie… Someone like her… She could stand beside him in ways I never could. She could be the one on his arm at events like this, the one who seamlessly belongs at his side.
And me?
Would I always be kept in the shadows? Always just a mistress on the side while he built a life with someone else?
The bathroom door swings open again, and I listen as their voices fade into the sounds of the gala. Only when I’m sure they’re gone do I let out a slow breath, staring at my reflection in the mirror.
What am I even doing?
Before I can dwell on it any longer, I turn on my heel and slip out of the bathroom, determined to push the doubts aside. Thehum of conversation and soft strains of music fill the ballroom as I step back inside, my eyes instinctively scanning the crowd for Rory. But before I can spot him, a figure moves toward me.
A man.
Long overcoat. Black cap pulled low over his face.
He walks with purpose, cutting through the clusters of guests like he belongs. My breath catches, unease prickling at the back of my neck. He doesn’t belong.
Before I can step away, he’s in front of me. His arm presses against mine, and then…
He shoves something into my hands.
I stumble back a step, my fingers tightening instinctively around the handle of the object. A briefcase.
My pulse spikes. I lift my head to ask,What the hell?But he’s already gone, vanishing into the crowd like smoke.