Page 39 of Forever Not Yours

“Faye Michaels.” She looked straight at me, head held high. “I know this isn’t the done thing,” she continued, “but I’m coming to you in confidence, because you seem like the only decent person around here, the only one who is not part of all this bullshitting.”

“I don’t know about the bullshitting part, but I know what you mean,” I said, my head spinning a little. This was new, but admirable. I liked it. Straight talk. Honest talk.

“I realise that, keeping in mind I’ve been here for almost six weeks, and you still don’t know my name.”

Bullseye.

“Faye…can I call you Faye?”

“Absolutely.”

I wanted to say it out loud,good girl, but even thinking it made me blush.

I missed him.For fuck’s sake, Bash.

“Faye, I get what you’re saying, and I dread to think what the current gossip doing the rounds here is all about. Especially when it comes to Juliet, who is not only our boss but also a very decent person.”

“Well,” she said, “I didn’t get a first in international economics to serve some dude in a shirt green mush in a glass.” She snorted, side-eyeing said green mush in a glass. “Neither did I get it to stand around the breakroom listening to people dish the dirt on the boss. I know this company back to front. I know thebusiness. And I also see Juliet Delaware for what she is. Smart. Strong. Fair and decent.”

I nodded, half impressed, half…terrified about what was about to come out of her mouth. Then I motioned for her to continue. Get those words out. And for a second, it hit me. She was as terrified as me, but at the same time? Back straight. Eyes on me. No fear there.

“I got that first so I could turn up here and demand an internship with Juliet Delaware. That’s why. And I got it, and here I am, and I am not going to let some oversexed twat put an end to my career or negotiate defamatory gossip. I’m here to work, and to work hard.”

“You sound like me a few years back,” I said. “Only then, this place was run by Frank Howard, who I worked under for about a week before he put himself in a hospital bed and never returned. I wanted to work for him, but he turned into Juliet, and here we are.”

“See? I know you’re solid. Straightforward and professional, and I’m more than satisfied being your green-slush provider—for now. Butthings have to change, or I will walk. I don’t want to walk, but at the same time, I won’t put up with this.”

“Neither will I,” I assured her. It was a lie, because I hated confrontation, but perhaps that had to change too.

She said nothing. I winced, moving in my chair.

“Thatgym injuryneeds looking at,” she said sternly.

“It’s fine.” I tried to get comfortable. “Completely self-inflicted and deserved.” For once, I believed my own words, and I also agreed with Faye. So much had to change.

“Can I bring you a paracetamol or two?”

I grinned. “You could, but I would much prefer if you could write something down for me, a proposal for how we create a better colleague environment that would make the things you mentioned unacceptable. I mean, these things have always been unacceptable, but they need to be addressed, and people reminded of the consequences. Mental health, harassment in the workplace, et cetera. You know these things, I’m sure.”

“Did my master’s dissertation on HR practices in financial institutions,” she said flatly.

“So perhaps a clause in our colleague guide, something that explicitly calls out the issues at hand—no names, no specifics, but enough that everyone will feel the bite. Also, you should have a meeting with Juliet, set one up for later. Tell her all of this. The works.”

“The works? I won’t have a job by morning.”

“You will. Trust me.”

She shook her head at me, as I tried to get up. Thegym injurymay all have been made up, but the way he’d held my leg in the air when he’d fucked me the other day had seriously done a number on my hip. I could still feel it, if I closed my eyes. Stupid, but it was right there, following my every movement in my head whenever I let my guard down. I had to sit back down and admit defeat, sore, uncomfortable, aching all over.

“Good weekend then?” she asked, like she could read my internal cringe fest. Musings. Sexual disasters. Oh God. Not disasters. Bone-crunching, skin-blistering, gorgeously brutally life-destroying sex.

Jake.

“Busy,” I managed to get out of my mouth. “What about you?”

Small talk? Me?

“You don’t want to know.” She smiled, likeshewanted me to know.

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