Page 72 of Take What You Want

His words lash me, leaving stinging wounds in their wake that not even the dew on the grass can balm.

“You can’t love me?” My voice cracks, right alongside my heart as he looks away from me, shaking his head once again.

And with that simple motion and silence, he sends everything we have and could have had crashing to the ground in shattering, irreparable pieces.

18

JANE

Carter: What are you guys wearing tonight?

Scar: all black

Carter: Shocker

Carter: Jane?

Me: I have this new lavender mini dress I’m thinking of…or else might also join in with Scar in all black

Carter: A dress? Is this club fancy?

Me: Idk I just like wearing dresses

Scar: i will not be in a dress

Carter: You guys aren’t very helpful

Scar: ask your bf

Carter: He’s just lying on the bed watching me get ready asking if he can come with

Me: No boys allowed tonight!

Scar: lol Walker’s doing the same

Jane: Tell my brother he can sacrifice one night for the sake of his favorite sister

Ifinish with the last section of my hair and flip my head over, shaking out the curls before I hair spray them into place. My makeup is a little heavier than my usual routine during the week, but I like the way the darker shadow makes my eyes pop. Plus, club lighting is always dim, so going more bold doesn’t hurt.

The margarita I made sweats against the marble countertop, and I take a few sips, needing to speed things up as I check the time. I’m supposed to be meeting up with Carter and Scar in twenty minutes and I still need to get dressed.

As I lean over the counter and swipe on a coat of gloss, my phone buzzes and I glance down to check the caller ID.

I accept the call and say, “Hi, Mom,” while I finish the last touches of my makeup.

“Janie, it’s good to hear your voice,” she says, her voice dripping with familiarity and comfort. While it’s been good to get away from the East Coast, I miss being able to see her whenever I want.

“How are you doing? How’s work going?”

“I was calling to ask you the same thing. How’s Arun treating you?”

I press my lips together to evenly spread the pigment before I cap the gloss and toss it into my bag for the night. “He’s treating me well,” I say. “I’m already working directly with four of his clients.”

Just this past week he had me take over the workload for one of his newest clients, a singer who toes the line between pop and country who recently had a video of her performance go viral online. Arun snatched her up and I’ve been handling contract negotiations with the record label trying to sign her.

“That’s great, hon. Have you heard from your boss at all? I’m sure they’re missing you back home.”

I choke down the scoff that works its way up my throat. “Not really.” I grab my phone and head over to my closet, grabbing out the new dress I was planning on wearing tonight. I quickly change as I fill my mom in. Since I’ve been here, I’ve gotten exactly one email from Chester and it was to let me know that his partners working on the LA expansion would like to meet with me to discuss connections I’ve made. When I responded back with my availability, I never heard back.

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