Page 78 of The Write Off

“If he does decide to sue the company, will we have to testify?” Alix asks, shyly.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Zoya responds. “You can sign an affidavit, but you will not be forced to testify.”

“I want each of you to know that I’m so sorry that this happened, and I’m grateful that you came forward. I need you to understand that you won’t face repercussions in any way. We will be a better company because you came forward.”

“Thank you. For not taking the easy way out.”

She smiles thoughtfully at me. “The easy way out is usually only easy for some. I want this company to be a great one, not only for those on the top floor, but for everyone who walks through the doors. It’s going to take work, but we’ve got to start somewhere.”

Hands are shaken. A teary Alix hugs me and I not only let her, I return it. We were expecting round two of a boxing match, only to have our “opponent” throw their gloves at our feet and promise to fight for us.

I exit the office feeling much lighter than when I entered it, but the last couple of weeks have been draining, and the emotional hangover has yet to fade away. All I want to do is go home.

Logan is pacing in his office. He doesn’t notice me in the doorway at first, too busy walking back and forth behind his desk, eyes downcast and expression serious.

I allow myself a moment to watch him unnoticed. This man has been more than a rock; he’s been an entire fucking island through all of this. He’s never told me what to do or how to feel, just stood by my side, supporting me in any way he could, giving me whatever I needed.

After a minute he glances up and spots me standing there. His eyes sweep over me, as if they’re making sure I’ve come back in one piece.

“Hey,” he says softly, walking around his desk and coming towards me. “How did it go? Are you okay? What can I do?”

I sigh as I step into his arms, knowing he’s dying to help in any way he can.

“It went well, I’m better than okay, and you can take me home.”

Chapter40

Logan

“You’re eating your Skittles in order.”

She’s right, I am.

While I’m not organizing them by color, I have started eating them in order of my least favorite to favorite flavor.

“Guilty. It really does make sense. This way my last mouthful is all the best flavor: orange.”

She snorts. “Orange is so not the best flavor. They are from the weakest branch on the citrus tree.”

“What about grapefruit?”

“Oh, you’re right. Grapefruits are worse than oranges.”

“Did you just admit that I was right and you were wrong?” I lean into her neck and nip her ear playfully.

“Don’t get used to it.” She shifts her weight on the couch so she’s leaning into me. I tighten my arms around her and kiss the top of her head.

The last few weeks have taken their toll on her; how could they not? Even someone as fearless and formidable as my girl could buckle under the pressure she’s been under. But she hasn’t. She held her head high and met every challenge hurled her way.

The relief I felt when she’d told me about her meeting with Alyson had been immeasurable. I like my job and I didn’t particularly want to find a new one, but I’d been prepared to do just that if the company didn’t support Rilla and the other employees who came forward against Bryce.

I’d already typed my letter of resignation, but I’m glad I didn’t need it.

It turns out the people of Thompson And Daye weren’t the only ones fed up with Bryce’s actions. Ingrid, who apparently has eyes and ears everywhere, told us that not only will no other company go near him, his family is furious over his behavior and have threatened to cut him off. It’s safe to say that he will not be suing anyone.

Rilla snuggles in closer. I inhale her sweet scent, a mixture of the maple syrup she had with her pancakes and the colorful candy we’ve been sharing.

When I asked her how she wanted to celebrate surviving recent events, she had three requests: pancakes, candy, and couch.

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