Page 104 of Scandalous Contract
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
STEFANIE
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AS I TURNED INTO THEdriveway, my bags in the trunk rustled, cans falling over. My gaze drifted to the mailbox. I quickly looked away. I would not stop and check it. My life did not center around that damn mailbox.
I pulled into the garage and pressed the button to lower the door behind me. It took me four trips into the house to bring in all of my bags. And that was with me carrying in as many as I could each trip. I had a lot of groceries.
India’s summer break was starting soon. I had to make sure the fridge and cabinets were stocked with her favorites. To be so small, she sure could eat. I teased her that all that food went to her hair. Like me, she had big hair energy.
I couldn’t wait to have her home. I placed two boxes of cereal on top of the refrigerator. My gaze drifted toward the living room. Should I go check the mailbox? No. No, I shouldn’t. I shook my head and took more items out of my bags.
My gaze drifted to the front door twice more. Each time, I stopped myself. I had things to do. The mail could wait. I opened the refrigerator and put my milk, cheese, and eggs inside. As I closed the door, I looked toward the front of the house.
Nope. Not gonna do it.
I’d just placed a jar of swirl peanut butter and jelly in the cabinet when I sighed, unable to hold out any longer. I needed to check the mailbox. I walked around the bags, through the house, and out the front door.
When I reached the mailbox, I stood there staring at it. Too nervous to open it.Get it together, Stefanie.I pulled the lever open.Nothing. The disappointment was almost a physical ache in my chest.
I peered into the mailbox again, just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. I wasn’t.A week.It had been a week since he’d sent me anything.Damn it.I closed the mailbox a little harder than necessary and stared at it for a second, willing it to produce something.
A letter. A sticky note. Anything as long as it came from Julian. But there was nothing in there from him. Julian hadn’t written to me in a week. And I’d desperately needed one of his letters yesterday.
That day had been hell. My last day at the only job I’d had after graduating from college. I’d shown up at the station expecting hugs, cake, and a nice little farewell celebration. Instead, security met me at the door with a sad smile and a cardboard box. My name was scribbled on the side in Hudson’s handwriting.
“Mark said you could take your last day off,” the guard had said, as he handed over the box. “I’m sorry, Ms. Adams.”
I’d swallowed down the tears as I stared at it, confused, then heartbroken.
“But...” I started. “My coworkers, they’d planned...” I couldn’t even get it out.
He shook his head, apologetic. “Your clearance has been revoked. Mark’s orders. He had me clean up the last items you had left in your desk and put them in this box for you. But I stopped by the front and talked to some of the employees and told them what was happening. The gifts they were going to give you at the party are inside. So are the cookies Courtney made for you. There are some letters from the staff in there, too. My gift is the little blue box.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, accepting the box.
“I’m sorry, but I have to take your badge.”
I’d handed it over, stunned silent.
Then, gently, he asked, “Can I hug you?”
I nodded to the security guard who’d been working at the news station just as long as I had.
As he wrapped his arms around me, he whispered, “You’re so much bigger than this place. You’ve always outshined this job. You’ll succeed wherever you go.”
Those words, kind and unexpected, nearly snapped the fragile grip I had on my control. I refused to cry. I’d already done that because of this job. This place wouldn’t get any more of my tears.
Holding it in, I thanked him for always being kind to me and always opening the door for me when he saw me heading into the building. After our embrace, I left the building of my dream job.
I had no regrets. I’d gone to college and gotten the degree I’d wanted. I’d entered the field I wanted and had excelled at it. Back when I’d first started, it had been a male-dominated field, white males.
Others like me and I had stepped into that field, broken that glass ceiling, and excelled. And now, because of me, Courtney would be next. And because of her, someone else would carry the torch. No, I didn’t have any regrets.
After I’d gotten in my car, I received a text from Hudson saying:It didn’t have to end like this.
