Page 33 of The Authenticity Clause
Leo forced his lips to move, to form the shape of a smile. It felt like a grimace. “Wow,” he managed, his voice sounding thin and reedy to his own ears. “That’s… that’s incredible, Sarah. I’m… speechless.”
You’re horrified,his brain screamed at him.This isn’t a job offer; it’s a life sentence. The lie is no longer a temporary fix; it’s your entire future.
He somehow managed to extricate himself from the conversation, mumbling something about needing some air. He stumbled out of the conference room, the laughter and celebratory chatter feeling like a physical assault. The office, which had felt like a playground for the past few weeks, now felt like a prison.
He found Maya at her desk, blissfully unaware, sipping a glass of champagne. She saw his face and her smile vanished.
“Whoa,” she said, her brow furrowing. “What’s wrong? You look like you just saw a ghost.”
“Worse,” Leo croaked, collapsing into the chair beside her desk. “I just saw my future.”
He quickly, quietly, told her everything. The success. The praise. The job offer. The title. The corner office.
When he finished, he expected sympathy. He expected a comforting hug. He did not expect the look of blunt, unadorned pity on Maya’s face.
“Oh, Leo,” she said, her voice devoid of its usual cheer. “You are in so much trouble.”
“I know,” he whispered, his head in his hands. “What am I going to do? I can’t take the job. The lie will be permanent. They’ll do a background check, they’ll call the Scrimshaw Institute, they’ll find out everything.”
“You’re right,” Maya said, her tone sharp and direct, a splash of cold water in the face. “You can’t take the job. Not like this.”
“But I can’t turn it down, either! What reason could I possibly give? And if I turn it down, I lose everything anyway. I lose this, I lose…” He couldn’t bring himself to say Julian’s name.
“Then you have one option,” she said, her gaze unflinching. She leaned forward, her voice low and urgent. “This has gone on long enough. It was one thing when it was a temp gig, a funny story for later. But this? This is real. This is fraud. And more importantly, you are falling in love with a man who thinks you’re someone you’re not.”
Every word was a nail in his coffin.
“You have to tell him,” she stated, not as a suggestion, but as an order. “You have to tell Julian the truth. All of it. Before you accept the offer. Before he finds out some other way. You have to tell him now.”
The room felt like it was tilting. The idea of confessing, of willingly taking a match to the beautiful world he had built, was unthinkable. It was suicide. He imagined the look on Julian’s face—the confusion, the hurt, the betrayal. The quiet pride he had seen in his eyes today curdling into cold, hard contempt. He would lose him. He knew, with an absolute certainty that was a physical pain, that he would lose him.
But Maya was right. The lie was a poison, and it was no longer just in him; it was infecting everything. It was infecting Julian. He had to choose. He could live the lie and lose himself, or tell the truth and lose the only man he had ever loved.
He looked at Maya, his eyes wide with a dawning, abject terror. He was trapped. Utterly, completely trapped by his own success. The joy of his victory felt like ash in his mouth.
“Okay,” he whispered, the word tasting like defeat. “Okay. I’ll tell him.”
Chapter 23: The Certainty Principle
The champagne from the previous day’s celebration had worn off, but the euphoria had not. It had settled deep in Julian’s bones, a warm, steady hum of satisfaction that was a far more potent intoxicant. He walked into the V&S office on Friday morning feeling a sense of pride so profound it was almost a physical presence. The Northwind project wasn’t just a success; it was a landmark victory, and it was a victory he had achievedwithLeo.
He had the official offer letter sitting in a sleek, gray folder on his desk. Sarah had drafted it, but Julian had insisted on being the one to present it. This wasn’t just a corporate formality; it was a personal milestone. It was the moment he could formally acknowledge the brilliant, chaotic man who had fundamentally altered the trajectory of his agency—and his life.
He watched Leo walk in, a splash of bright, happy color in the morning light, and his heart did a slow, steady roll in his chest. It wasn’t the frantic, anxious rhythm of their early encounters. It was a calm, resonant beat of recognition.There you are.
Leo’s eyes found his across the room, and the smile they shared was easy, intimate, a secret language all their own. The change in their dynamic was no longer a secret, not really. The whole office seemed to operate with a new, unspoken understanding. The tension between their two lead minds had resolved, replaced by a harmony so effective it had resulted in the biggest client win in the agency’s history. No one asked questions. They were just happy the cold war was over.
Julian waited until mid-morning, letting the initial flurry of work settle. Then, he sent the Slack message.
Julian Thorne [10:15 AM]My office when you have a moment.
It was the same message he’d sent a hundred times before, but today it felt different. It was weighted with significance. A moment later, Leo appeared in his doorway, a questioning, slightly nervous smile on his face.
“Am I in trouble for using the wrong shade of blue in the footer mock-up?” Leo asked, his tone light and teasing.
“Worse,” Julian said, his own expression serious, though he couldn’t keep a faint smile from playing on his lips. “I’m afraid this is an official HR matter.”
He gestured to the chair, and Leo sat, his playful demeanor fading into curiosity. Julian slid the gray folder across the polished surface of his desk.
