Page 41 of When Hearts Ignite

“Grace Peyton, a senior from NYUC.”

He frowns and shrugs. “I don’t recognize her name. If she’s good, keep her contact information for next year.”

A cold front whips through me, sharpening my senses. I lean forward on my desk. “What do you mean? She’s getting one of the offers this year. I know two of them are already spoken for because they’re recommendations from our largest clients, but this last one is hers. She’s the best of the group.”

Sean waves me away, a shiny lock of blond hair falling over his face. “No can do this year. I just found out Greg Marley’s niece is one of our interns. His widow called and asked if we could offer her a position. The family has been devastated with his passing and this would mean a lot to them.”

Fuck this shit.

Grace never told me, but I sense she needs this job more than anyone else in the group.

“What about the other two openings then, can’t we give one of them to her? She deserves it, Sean. She’d be an asset to the firm.”

Shit. Why am I arguing with Sean? What he’s saying makes sense. You know that, Steven.

Sean leans back, his lips flattening in apparent displeasure. “What’s the matter with you, Steven? This is unlike you. You’re a man of logic and common sense. The other two offers as favors to keep our largest clients happy are no-brainers. This intern, whatever her name is—”

“Grace. Her name is Grace.” I grit my teeth together as I fight to keep my facial expression neutral.

“Grace is a nobody. The other three are somebodies. And we can give Grace an offer next year and double the signing bonus. She’d be a fool to say no then.” He stands up, straightens his jacket and stalks toward the door.

Pausing before he turns the handle, he looks back at me, his steely gaze cold. “Steven, you’re after the COO promotion. You want to run the TransAmerica deal, do what you do best, and use your fucking common sense. I’m not having this conversation with you again. Give the three interns their offers on Friday.”

He lets out a laborious sigh, as if this entire conversation is tiring him. “I support you, Steven. You’re the man for the job. Just do the right thing.”

Sean walks out the door and disappears around the corner, leaving me reeling with the implications. My chest clenches, a burning anger crawling up my spine. I release a breath and rake in another. And another.

The right thing.

It’s funny how that has changed in the last few weeks.

Logic and common sense, Steven. Grace can always get another job. I’ll give her a recommendation. It’ll be okay. She’ll understand.

She’ll hate you.

My thoughts are scrambled, my compass not knowing which way is north anymore.

Emotions are liabilities, all of it. My mind taunts me with Father’s warnings.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

My phone rings, the ringtone of a video call. I frown, picking up the device and staring at the caller ID.

Jess and Emily.

My chest twists as my shoulders tighten. I hope everything is all right. They rarely video me together. My first thought goes to Father, worried something happened to him because of the war zone no doubt at TransAmerica.

His life’s work. The Kingsley family’s redemption—instead of an empty old-money name, we are now synonymous with power. All because of Father.

His sacrifice by staying behind.

The thing he loves above everything else, everyone else. Now I have a chance to save it. I need to save it.

My sisters’ faces flash on the phone screen. I don’t think they’d stop calling unless I pick up.

Emily’s impish face fills the screen. Her warm brown eyes, which she got from Mother, narrow at me, her lips twisting in a scowl. “Why did it take you so long to pick up?”

Sitting back in my chair, I lift a brow at her. We’ve bickered all throughout our childhood and that doesn’t stop at adulthood, apparently. “I’m busy at work, unlike someone.”

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