Page 87 of That Moment
But the second I allow myself that thought, guilt crashes over me.
“I don’t want you to wake up one day wondering if you missed your chance at something bigger, something that’s yours,” she says softly. “You deserve to at least think about it.”
I nod slowly, biting down on my bottom lip, unable to stop the swell of emotion. Flattered. Overwhelmed. Torn. Her hand squeezes mine once more before she lets go. “That’s all I wanted to say. Just… consider it.”
I can only whisper back, “Thank you. For believing in me and even considering me for an opportunity like this.”
Her eyes glisten for a second, a pretty rare sight for the impenetrable Celeste Slade, before she pulls me into a hug. Her perfume wraps around me, crisp and familiar, the same scent I clung to when I was a little girl sneaking into her office to watch her work.
For a moment, I let myself rest against her, grateful for the calm in the middle of the chaos. When she pulls back, her smile is gentler. “Now, before your uncle drives Trent and Axel insane with his hovering, I’d better go wrangle him.”
I laugh softly, the sound a little shaky. “Good luck.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it,” she winks, raising her hand and offering a playful smack through the air, “gotta keep those men in line.”
The door clicks shut behind her, and silence settles heavy around me. I’m still sitting there, mug in hand, staring blankly at the spot she’d just occupied.
Junior partner. In LA.
It doesn’t even feel real. This is the scenario I dreamt of for years. The chance to move away, prove myself outside of my Slade name, and explore a different kind of life. It’s like she cracked open a window into some alternate version of my life, and now I can’t unsee it.
I press my palm against my chest, trying to slow my racing heart. I should feel nothing but honored, right? A firm like thatwould be a dream for most people. For me, once, too.Harvard Adrienne, Northwestern Adrienne.The girl who couldn’t get enough of the late nights, the high-stakes debates, the thrill of proving she belonged in rooms full of men twice her age.
But that girl also came back here. To family. To Slade Industries. To this office where my mug of tea sits beside contracts and party notes scribbled in my neat handwriting.
This is the life I built. This is the life I chose.
Except now I’m not sure if I chose it… or just stayed.
I stand abruptly, carrying my mug to the credenza just for something to do. My reflection stares back at me in the window above it. My strawberry-blonde hair falling in perfectly styled waves, silk blouse pressed, makeup flawless. On the outside, I look like I have it all together. But inside? My stomach’s knotted.
Celeste’s voice echoes in my head:You shine when the stakes are high. You love the challenge.
God, she’s right. I did. I do!
There’s a part of me that still craves the sharp edges of that life. The adrenaline, the ambition, the sense of always pushing higher.
But then another memory pushes in. Boston winters, yes, but also Boston loneliness. Chicago’s thrill, yes, but also Chicago’s ache. Always smiling, always succeeding, alwaysalone.But there was always one face, in the back of my mind, that kept me coming back home. One smile that kept me on the edge of my seat all Christmas break, hoping I’d catch a glimpse of it. Hoping it would be aimed at me.
I sink back into my chair, dropping my forehead into my hands. My throat tightens, the sting behind my eyes sharp. Because I know what this is really about, it’s not just LA. It’s not just Slade. It’s me, never knowing what I truly want.
Keegan flashes in my mind like a cruel reminder. On paper, he was perfect: successful, handsome, the kind of man my familycould brag about at dinner parties. The kind of man who fits right into my family. But the night I thought he was about to propose? My stomach dropped so fast I could barely breathe. My whole body screamedno, even as my brain whispered,but he’s perfect.And then he walked away, deciding for me.
I wipe at my eyes with the back of my hand, frustration bubbling. Is LA the same shiny distraction? Another box that looks good from the outside but leaves me empty?
The truth scares me. Because what if it’s not about cities or jobs or men at all?
What if it’s me?
I lean back, staring at the ceiling, forcing deep breaths until the pressure in my chest eases. Celeste believes in me enough to hand me this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. That matters. But she also knows me better than anyone. She saw me lit up once. She saw me thrive. And maybe she’s right. Maybe I’ve dimmed since coming back.
I press my palms flat on my desk, grounding myself. “I’ll think about it,” I whisper into the quiet, as if she’s still here to hear it. Because I owe her that. And maybe I owe it to myself, too.
Still, when I close my eyes, it isn’t skyscrapers or corner offices that flicker in my mind. It’s the way Scotty looked at me this morning in his truck. The way he’s always looked at me, like even when I feel like I’m falling apart, I’m still enough, just the way I am.
And that thought terrifies me more than LA ever could.
The office feels too quiet after Celeste leaves, like she sucked all the oxygen out with her perfect opportunity on a silver platter. I sit at my desk, staring out the window at the slow roll of Colorado sky, and let the silence press in.
