“I agree that Yuval is a fantastic firm, and I remain on good terms with both the team and management. Overall, it has been an invaluable experience as the lessons I learned and relationships I developed there will, I’m sure, remain with me the entirety of my career. However, Toronto is home. The plan was always to come back.” I had been sincere in my response. The plan had always been to come back.
The rest of the interview went just as smoothly, and I received a call with my offer not three hours after it ended, exactly as I’d anticipated. I’d worked my ass off for seven years to ensure they would all but beg me to accept the job when I applied.
It had all gone according to plan so far, and I was almost at the finish line. There was just one other thing I needed to do. Unfortunately, it was also the part I was dreading the most, but it was “absolutely necessary and nonnegotiable” according to my father. So here I was, one week before my official start date.
“He’s ready for you now, Milly.”
The voice brought me back to my current reality. Andrew, who was now Zac’s personal assistant, finally stood up.
It took every last ounce of my self-control to not roll my eyes as I got up from my seat. I’d been sitting outside of Zac’s office, now on the eighteenth floor of the building and twice the size of his old one, for almost an hour. We both knew he wasn’t actually too busy to see me. He just wanted to make me wait.
“Thanks, Andrew,” I said.
I could tell he felt bad about it. He’d brought me tea and sugar cookies while I waited as a silent peace offering. My stomach was in too big of a dread-fueled knot to touch any of the cookies, but the tea had helped.
I really didn’t want to be there.
“Amelia,” Zac acknowledged as I walked into the room, barely looking up from his phone. “I see the acne medication finally took.”
Wow. Fuck this guy.
“Zackary.” I smiled. “You’ve aged.”
“Like fine wine, I’m sure,” he said almost absent-mindedly, still looking down, as if I wasn’t worth his attention.
Dismissive had always been his go-to attitude toward me. It was infuriating.
“Or milk…” I retorted instinctively, though quietly enough that I thought for a second he might not have heard.
But then the corners of his mouth twitched up. Whether in amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. Either way, he finally put his phone down and looked directly at me.
I’d forgotten how blue his eyes were.
A few seconds passed as he studied me, his eyes wandering from my face down to my nude Louboutins. I fought off the sudden urge to straighten out the front of my white pencil skirt.
“It’s nice to see you again, Amelia,” he lied as his eyes landed back on my face, his expression unreadable. “What can I do for you?”
“My father thought it would be a good idea for me to come here and make amends, now that I’m an official employee of the company. He feels that I was immature in my handling of the situation the last time we saw each other. So, I… am here to apologize,” I said, not wanting to beat around the bush.
The sooner I could get this over with, the better.
“Ah, well, fantastic start.”
How satisfying it would be to walk over and physically wipe the amused, smug smile off his stupid beautiful face.
“I’d say so.” I matched his sarcastic tone, letting out the most genuine laugh I could muster. But it came out as more of a cackle, making me sound like an unhinged lunatic.
This was already not going according to plan.
“Well then, let’s hear it.” He looked like a kid on Christmas morning.
“Hear what?”
“The apology.”
“I already said it.”
“No, you said you were here to apologize. The actual apology part hasn’t happened yet.” He leaned forward in his chair with a smile, the dimple on his left cheek making an unwelcome appearance.
The knot in my stomach tightened.
Just say it. It’s almost over. You’re so close.
“I’m sorry,” I said with what I hoped was a neutral expression while my nails dug into the inside of my clenched fists behind my back.
“For what, exactly, Amelia?”
My eyes narrowed at him, knowing he was egging me on.
“For my poor attitude and lack of professionalism during my internship.” I was 80 percent sure my nails had broken skin and my palms were starting to bleed. “And for calling you ‘an intolerable, arrogant, pompous ass.’”
A tiny smirk escaped as I repeated the last part. It was unintentional and only lasted half a second, but he caught it.
“Water under the bridge. Be sure to close the door on your way out.” His smile seemed genuine, and I would have believed him, but his eyes gave him away.
Good. It would be way more fun this way.
I walked out of his office, leaving the door slightly ajar.
6
The following week went by in a flash. When I wasn’t unpacking or furniture shopping with Kai for my new apartment in downtown Toronto, I was prepping for my first day.
By Monday morning, my place was fully set up and I was ready to leave an hour earlier than was necessary. I took another look in the mirror, a nervous habit I’d picked up over the last couple of years, to make sure there were no new stains or wrinkles on my clothes or mascara goop I needed to get rid of since the last time I’d checked ten minutes ago.
“Can you just sit down and chill for a bit? You look perfect. You always look perfect.” Kai had brought me breakfast and coffee this morning to celebrate my first day on the job. He was sitting at the island in my brightly lit kitchen eating a breakfast sandwich.
“It’s a little weird seeing you nervous, I don’t remember the last time you were this fidgety,” he said as he took a bite.
“I’m not nervous, I’m just…”
“You haven’t been able to sit still since I got here.” He wiped his hands with a napkin and came over to stand next to me as I readjusted the collar of my silk navy blouse.
“Stop. Fidgeting.” He playfully swatted at my restless hands, and I finally gave up, resting them on my hips instead.
“Fine, I’m a little nervous. I just don’t know why,” I said honestly, taking a deep breath.
“The problem isn’t how you look, Mills. You have quite literally gone through the glow-up of the century, and you know it.”
He came up behind me, studying my reflection and playing with my chocolate-brown, shoulder-length curls.
“I’d kill for those lips and that pout…” he mentioned, almost as an afterthought.
Kai and I had met in kindergarten and had been inseparable ever since. He’d always been beautiful. Like really, truly beautiful. Born to a Japanese mother and Irish father, his features were the perfect blend of both delicate and masculine. He was tall, perfectly filled out with a killer sense of style, and looked like he belonged the cover of every major fashion magazine you could think of. He’d actually been scouted a bunch of times but never had any interest in modeling.
I’d lost count of the number of times growing up that girls had asked me about him or tried to befriend me to get to him. Once he’d come out, it switched to boys doing the same.