Page 98 of Savage Lover

He says they were always just friends.

He says that she seemed good for me.

He says that I should call her.

I didn’t tell him that she’s called dozens of times since I left, and I just watch the phone ring. I’m not sure I’m ready to admit to that level of masochism.

I flip open the folder my secretary set on my desk and glance over the first few resumes. She wasn’t kidding when she said she put some good ones on top. I see the name of one of our partner’s sons. The guy knows me well enough to send his own kid through the usual channels, without asking for a favor. He’ll get an interview for that, probably a summer internship.

The next resume catches my eye for a different reason. Harvard law, academic honors, Peace Corps, volunteering to read to the blind. I scan from the bottom up, and when my eyes reach the name at the top of the page, I smile to myself and toss the folder back on my desk.

Leaning back in my chair, I laugh.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Victoria

“I’m going to miss you so much!”

I give hugs all around the fitness center as the students from my very last class file out the door. It’s been a great few months here at The White Sands. I learned a lot about running my own classes, handling client injuries, and working with people on their goals. I know I have a handful of fantastic references for my resume as well.

That’s what secured me the teaching position in New York. One of the managers here on Faraday made a few calls and got me a spot at Lotus Studios, a rehabilitation and Pilates center in Brooklyn. I’ll be starting as a junior instructor, but the center has its own education program, so I’ll be able to take classes and move up. They certify instructors to do the exact kind of work that helped me come back from my injury, and I’m excited to finally get to help others who really need it.

Ainsley helped with the apartment. We made a deal that day on Merit—he would go back to New York if I would go too. I have a sneaking suspicion he was already planning to start classes that semester, but I don’t mind. It was the push I needed to take the big leap and finally go after what I want in life.

To help people.

And to get Ben back.

Part of my deal with Ainsley was that I had to try. When Ben left me on Merit that day, I felt completely helpless, like I had no way to get him back. He made the decision to end our relationship and that was that.The fact that I probably deserved exactly what I got didn’t help with my feelings of hopelessness.

One of the parts of being with Ben that I loved so much was how empowered I felt. He seemed to be learning from me. He was coming out of his sheltered little life and having fun. I helped the perfect, almighty Ben. But that feeling came to an end when he walked away. I was blindsided by just how powerless it made me feel. The only future I could see had me running off to the next chapter in my life with my tail between my legs.

Hoping I could manage not to screw up the next thing.

Ainsley gave me the kick in the pants I needed to get off that train and start thinking about what I really want. And he gave me the confidence boost I needed to actually go for it.

I guess the guy isn’t so bad after all.

I don’t have much to pack, so a golf cart is able to take me and a few other guests to the water taxi together. I watch the resort get smaller and smaller as we bump down the dusty road toward town. This has been a grand adventure for me. Wonderful, hard, and really eye opening. I’m leaving this island a different person than I was when I arrived.

And maybe that kind of growth is all one can hope for.

When I say Ainsley helped with the apartment, I mean that he used his connections to secure me a spot and fronted the first and last month’s rent and the deposit. For the most part, I’m still on my own. The city is cold, loud, and busy—a far departure from my little island home. But it’s where I need to be. And, if I play my cards right, I’ll be back on Merit with Ben before long.

My tiny walk-up came furnished with a single bed, small dresser, and a desk. It’s stuffy and smells like it's been empty for a while, but I pull up the lone window and the fresh air rushes in. There's a tree outside the window and a small coffee pot on the counter. Things are going to be okay.

As I'm putting my clothes away in the dresser drawers, worrying about whether my fitness outfits will be up to par at a big city studio, my phone rings.

“Hello, is this Victoria Easton?”

“Yes.”

“Hello, Victoria. This is Cynthia from Covington, Schwab, Bartlett, and Adams. How are you doing today?”

My breath catches in my chest as shock rolls through me. When I sent that resume into Ben’s firm, the most I expected was for him to finally return one of my calls or texts. I hardly expected an interview for a position I’m in no way qualified for.

But then a sinking feeling settles in my gut. This is a secretary or assistant calling me. Was I a total fool to think that a senior partner would even look at law clerk internship resumes? This poor woman probably chooses all the candidates and thinks she found a great one in me.

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