Page 22 of Best In Class
“It was so…it was….”
“Forgive him, Luna. He was a kid. He fucked up.”
Stella is one of the only people whom I told about what happened with Dom, why we ended, and why I’m so frosty with him.
“He cheated on me.”
“So the fuck what? That was over ten years ago. Move on. Give him a chance. He obviously wants one.”
“He’s dating Camy,” I bellow.
She drives into the parking lot of Minton Holdings and parks her Jaguar I-Pace with some force. “She hangs on his arms. But he’s not dating her. Hell, Luna, I don’t think he’s been with anyone since he got here. Noah and the guys give him a hard time for following you around like a puppy.”
“Savannah is a small town; it’s perfectly normal to bump into people.”
“You know what’s not perfectly normal?” she hisses.
“Leave me the fuck alone.” I open the passenger door and am out before she is.
“You are hanging on to something that happened when you were kids,” she finishes.
I wait until she opens the trunk so I can get my backpack. Once I sling it on one shoulder, I look at Stella, letting her see the turmoil inside me. “Would you forgive someone for cheating on you?”
Stella rolls her eyes. “Hon, I forgave Noah for showingour sex tape to my father. Look, do you think the Dom you see today is the kind of man who’ll cheat on you?”
“I don’t know.”
She sighs. “Now you’re just being contrary. Dom is a good guy, and you know it. We all made mistakes when we were kids. You did as well. Just because you wrecked your daddy’s car when you were fourteen doesn’t mean you shouldn’t have a driver’s license today, does it?”
“It’s not the same thing.” I throw my hands up in exasperation.
She gives me a withering look.
My shoulders slump. “I won’t become my mother.”
“Hon, that’s not going to happen. Two reasons. One, you’renotJenn. Second, and importantly, Dom isnotyour father.” Stella pulls me into a quick hug and kisses my cheek. “Come on, let’s go kick some ass, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
The glass-walled conference room at Minton Holdings is an architectural crime—an overpriced attempt at modern minimalism that misses every mark.
The drywall is faux-industrial, meant to look edgy and artistic, but ends up looking like a bad stage set. The fluorescent lights, clearly chosen for theirdesigner appeal, clash violently with the steel fixtures and cast a cold, sickly glow that makes everyone look slightly undead.
The room screams money but loudly whispers a lack of taste.
If the cold interior isn’t bad enough, the thermostat is set somewhere between a meat locker and arctic death. Which isironic, considering we’re here to design a hospital focused on environmental sustainability and patient-centric healing spaces. No one’s healing in this space. In fact, it feels as if it’s been purposefully designed to make one feel uncomfortable.
Tommy Minton sits at the head of the table, flanked by two of his suited clones; white, male, and about a decade past needing to retire. Jason Marquez, our very inept coordinator, who has at least stopped hitting on me, is also at the meeting.
Camy ishangingoff Dom’s arm. She’s sitting on his left while I’m on his right. I have no choice but to sit there so I can see the slide deck as he progresses through the presentation. Shecansit elsewhere, but she won’t.
Dom is intently looking at his laptop screen, going through the presentation we’ve been working on for the past week. He told me he wants me to present, and he’ll only step in if there are questions that he’s equipped to answer better.
For all my grumbling and bitching and moaning, Dom is the perfect partner. He stays in his lane and is incredibly considerate. I’d have more of a reason to continue to bark at him if he was a mansplaining asshole like Jason.
After the obligatory small talk, we finally dig into the substance of the meeting. Tommy’s eyebrows twitch when Dom opens the presentation and he learns I will be presenting, but he holds his tongue.
Again, Dom’s deferring to me.
