Page 52 of One More Weekend

But, she knew better now. And this was a compromise I could get used to.

I stepped in front of her. “How do I look?”

Taking a look at my outfit, Sy nodded. “Perfect. Professional, slick, prepared.” Faking a cough, Sy added, “and really hot, obviously.”

I smacked her shoulder as I tucked the food into my bag. It wasn’t exactly what I was going for but the confidence couldn’t hurt.

So I gave her a kiss and headed for the door, slipping on my heels. “Wish me luck.”

“Luck, not that you need it since you’re so obviously qualified.” Sy winked.

She always said the right thing, knowing exactly how to lift me up while validating all of my concerns. After all this time together, I still wasn’t sure if Sy was a superhero or not.

But as I grabbed my stuff and headed out the door, I decided she was neither. She was just Sy. My Sy.

The train ride was quick, unsure whether it was my nerves that made the time pass faster or if it was the insane amount of coffee I’d had.

Hopping off the train in Midtown, I headed to the office's address and stood outside the tall revolving doors. The agency itself was a bit of a resume downgrade from SDO but this would be a permanent position, something I could really grow into.

And right now, the money alone seemed worth it.

I took in a deep breath, steadying my nerves before pushing the revolving door and walking up to the security desk. From there, I followed the nice guard’s directions to the elevator bank and headed to the 15th floor.

As soon as the doors swung open, I felt all of my confidence disappear. The lobby was filled with applicants, all of them with laminated resumes and fancy outfits.

Trying to shake the insecurity, I headed for the front desk and signed in.

There was almost no point taking a seat because as soon as my ass met the acrylic chair my name was called by the assistant who periodically popped her head into the lobby.

I stood up quickly and followed her to the back.

In my mind, I rehearsed my resume. Every place I’d ever worked flashed behind my eyes, all of the lessons I’d learned, and every question was ready with a prepared answer.

The assistant swung open the clear doors of a conference room where two agents leaned back in desk chairs.

“Hi, I’m Jenna Chambers. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.” I stuck out my hand and gave them both a firm shake before taking my seat. Sliding my resume across the table, two pristine copies ready for them, I started to walk them through what they were reading.

The more I spoke, the more I saw their eyes light up with recognition. My confidence soared through the roof as they set the paper back on the table.

“Well, Ms. Chambers. This is quite an impressive resume for someone your age. What makes you excited to work here atCowell and Proctor?” The older of the two men asked, his eyes narrowing at the question.

Because if I work here, I can stay in the city I love and date my best friend.

Clearing my throat, I nodded. “As a boutique agency, you provide a unique client experience that prioritizes the individual over the bottom line.”

Fucking nailed it.

35

SY

I hadn’t stoppedpacing around the apartment from the second Jenna walked out the front door. For a while, I managed to do some anxiety cleaning.

I knew there were thousands of outcomes.

And none of them guaranteed that we’d keep seeing each other. I mean fuck, if she did stay, she might call the whole thing off just to make sure our living situation stayed as viable as possible.

Don’t get your hopes up.

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