VOLUME TWO: HER SIEGEI shove my head deeper into the couch pillow, hating the fact Vincent purchased it and yet relishing in the softness. The pillow is so malleable I could shove my face in farther and use it to suffocate my memories away."Mackenzie, it was a misunderstanding," Ashley says, sitting at the end of the couch and pulling my feet into her lap. She has her blonde hair pulled back into a high bun and she's wearing a pair of gray sweats.I cover my ears, not wanting to hear her logic about the situation. This is definitely no misunderstanding. When I came home from a devastating day and broke down telling Ashley the details of the illicit affair I've had with my billionaire boss, I expected her to be on my side. To trash him with me and talk about how horrible men are. I didn't think she'd try to calm me with logic.Best friends jump on the wagon and drive the tractor to man-hater island. Vincent hired me to fill in as his assistant while his real one was on materni
My ex-boyfriend Henry texted, and in a moment of weakness and dismay, I agreed to see him for lunch. When the hour came, I sent Vincent an email to explain I wasn't feeling well and left for the rest of the day. The lunch with Henry sucked—I've made one terrible choice after another lately—and then I spent two hours crying in my room. Ashley found me later on the couch flipping through Netflix and looking like the saddest person this side of the Grand River. But trust me, no expression on my face could match the hurt in my heart."Why would you quit?" she asks."To save my dignity." My breath releases with a swoosh. What other choice is there?Ashley drops my feet to the floor, leans forward, and pours the last of the wine bottle into her glass. She hands me my half-full one, forcing me to sit up. My muscles ache, my energy reserve gone, but I consider wine the one thing that can help me forget the shitty choices I've made since accepting the job as Vincent's assistant."Oka
The last bits of my ice cream melt, leaving a gooey mess in the carton as it sits on my desk. My bedroom is stationed high above the city on the fifteenth floor of a building Vincent owns. I positioned the desk on a slight angle so I could work on my computer and look out at the city lights. And okay, fine. Occasionally I catch a view of Vincent's building. Now, it stares back at me laughing after taking away the positive I saw in my future. He's not shoving ice cream in his face all weekend.I need to toss the ice cream, but the small trashcan by my desk is full. The other two pints from this weekend cause it to overflow. Thursday night I spent on the couch with Ashley, drinking and eating my sorrows. Friday morning she emailed blaming my missing work on a migraine. It wasn't far from the truth. I woke up that morning with ice cream dried to my shirt and a hangover headache that would have killed a lesser woman.The entire weekend became a haze of ice cream, fried chicken, and win
I'll do as Ashley said. Get a great night of sleep, wake up refreshed and hot as fuck, take a shower, put on a smoking hot outfit, and go back to work tomorrow morning as if nothing happened.Men are not the only people who can play this game.Screw quitting. No, I'll make sure by the time I finish with him, Valiant will regret using me to cheat.With vigor I'm not sure I've fully mustered yet—but will fake—I bust through my bedroom door, storm down to the hallway, and hit on Ashley's closed door with the side of my fist."Ashley, come and make me look hot!" I yell, knowing she'll hear me.On cue, as if she's been waiting in the rafters waiting for my grand entrance, she pops her head out of her room. A smile stretches across her face and her eyes glitter with excitement. "Hell yes! That's what I'm talking about. It's on, bitches."...MONDAY MORNING COMES MUCH TOO fast and even though I fell into bed determined to be a young female ready to stake my claim on the world, I
I can barely see over the top of the flowers and I lean over, hiding myself behind them as I rip open the envelope and pull out the card.Two business card sized pieces of paper come free. The top is white and plain with a simple note that reads:"Knock him dead and if he asks these are from your new secret admirer.—Ashley"I smile thinking of the wonderful friend who would do something like this. It means more they came from Ashley than any man. I flip the card over and the one behind has hearts decorating the sides, the note written in a hasty handwriting not matching Ashley's elegant font."It was a wonderful getting to know you.—Daniel"I tuck Ashley's card into my purse and display the Daniel message in the bouquet, but then I immediately take it out and place it on my desk.Hmmm.Displaying his private message would be too obvious. It's better if my new admirer has sent a message as a private communication between the two of us. I didn't wake up this morning plannin
--------TO: Mackenzie MarshalFROM: Vincent ValiantI need those Wienhowser copies on my desk in ten.Vincent ValiantCEO of Valiant Industries…My fingers drum lightly on the keys, getting ready to reply, but I'd rather see his face as I drop the stack in front of him. I grab the copies from the corner of my desk, which have been sitting there all morning—I've had the copies done since Wednesday afternoon—and then without looking back cup them in my arm and storm into his office without knocking."You know I'm right here. You don't have to email your requests," I spit out as he looks up.With steps that are too long to be natural and make me look maybe a little crazy, I make it to his desk and drop the copies on the top. The created wind tunnel effect causes a few top papers fly to the side.Vincent looks up and scowls. "If you had them done, why did I need to email in the first place?"My eyes widen in anger and I visualize him getting a serious paper cut from
"Ashley it's been three days, and he hasn't come crawling back asking for forgiveness. At this point it's safe to say he's not planning on a grand gesture." Or any gesture at all. My best friend met me at the door to our apartment eager to find out what it happened at work.My report is lackluster at best. Just like the last two days when she'd done the same.It broke my heart to tell her once again nothing happened. I open the fridge door and find a half-eaten sub from four days ago. Eww. It isn't even worth unwrapping. The smell would kick me in the teeth if I tried. I grab the rotten food and spin, tossing it in the trashcan where it lands beside an empty bottle wine.Ashley tips her head into the kitchen. "Are you sure you're reading his body language the right way?"I grab the empty wine bottle from the trashcan and hold it up to her. "If you're going to continue to finish bottles of wine, at least recycle them." Although I didn't remember leaving a bottle half-empty.As
I CLICK SEND ON an email promising I will have an updated finance report for the new project in Chicago on the lawyer's desk by Monday afternoon and then close out of my email program for the day. It's been an entire week of slamming doors and jelly sandwiches, and Vincent hasn't said anything. Nothing. Nada. Zip.He's been nothing but ice cold—worse than when I started this horrid job.We are really and truly done.Not that we were much in the first place.Regardless, it feels as if my heart is missing from my chest. Damn Vincent turning me into one of those love-sick women.Nothing I did to piss him off has worked. He hasn't apologized or yelled. Worse, he has done nothing.I don't know what it takes for a girl to lose her job around here, but now I've begun questioning whether our entire short relationship ever happened. I dreamt it during a long weekend. It's the best explanation for how in the course of a morning we've reverted to our original roles of poor assistant a