Page 10 of In Love and War
I could tell my father wanted to believe him, I was just not entirely convinced he did. But he nodded and accepted the explanation anyway before turning his attention back toward me.
“Darling, I know that you are upset.” His eyes were a little sad when he looked at me. “But please know that I am only doing this in an attempt to set you up for success. I am not taking anything away from you. The company will be yours if you can prove that you’ve earned it and that you truly want it. Because right now, I don’t think you really do.”
I was tempted to keep arguing, but I knew my father well enough to know I was fighting a losing battle.
“Fine, but I just have one request.” And it was nonnegotiable. “Zac will have nothing to do with my interview or hiring process.”
Thankfully, he agreed.
“Zac, before you leave—Jasmine told me about your mother. I’m sure you had a rough night, and I’m surprised you made it in. I don’t expect you to be working, so if you need some time off to be with her, please take it. And let me know if there is anything I can do to help.”
Zac didn’t say anything. He simply nodded before turning around and walking out.
My father gave me a look before I left, but it wasn’t going to work. I pushed any feelings of sympathy I had toward Zac down into a box, the same one I’d stuffed the last traces of the romantic feelings I’d had for him two months ago, and closed the lid.
This was war, and Zackary Evans was going down.
5
Here’s the thing about grudges: if you let them grow big enough and remain unchecked, they can consume your whole life.
They can impact your goals, relationships, major decisions, and everything else in between. Not to mention they can last an obscenely long time.
For some people it becomes an obsessive cycle of failures and misdirected blame. Others thrive on it; hatred becomes fuel to succeed, and sweet, satisfying revenge is the endgame. Either way, it’s toxic as hell. I knew it was toxic then, and I knew the same seven years later. But it didn’t change anything.
“Finished your undergraduate degree in three years, graduated top of your class, MBA from Columbia University while working at Yuval Digital, and then an additional two years full-time at the firm after graduation. This is a very impressive resume, Milly. Yuval is the top advertising agency in New York. Not to mention every single one of your references there gave you glowing reviews.” Margaret, the hiring manager at Bloom & Co. Advertising had, in fact, looked impressed. “Can you tell me why you’re looking to leave?”
“I agree that Yuval is a fantastic firm, and I remain on good terms with both the team and management. Overall, it has been an invaluable experience as the lessons I learned and relationships I developed there will, I’m sure, remain with me the entirety of my career. However, Toronto is home. The plan was always to come back.” I had been sincere in my response. The plan had always been to come back.
The rest of the interview went just as smoothly, and I received a call with my offer not three hours after it ended, exactly as I’d anticipated. I’d worked my ass off for seven years to ensure they would all but beg me to accept the job when I applied.
It had all gone according to plan so far, and I was almost at the finish line. There was just one other thing I needed to do. Unfortunately, it was also the part I was dreading the most, but it was “absolutely necessary and nonnegotiable” according to my father. So here I was, one week before my official start date.
“He’s ready for you now, Milly.”
The voice brought me back to my current reality. Andrew, who was now Zac’s personal assistant, finally stood up.
It took every last ounce of my self-control to not roll my eyes as I got up from my seat. I’d been sitting outside of Zac’s office, now on the eighteenth floor of the building and twice the size of his old one, for almost an hour. We both knew he wasn’t actually too busy to see me. He just wanted to make me wait.
“Thanks, Andrew,” I said.
I could tell he felt bad about it. He’d brought me tea and sugar cookies while I waited as a silent peace offering. My stomach was in too big of a dread-fueled knot to touch any of the cookies, but the tea had helped.
I really didn’t want to be there.
“Amelia,” Zac acknowledged as I walked into the room, barely looking up from his phone. “I see the acne medication finally took.”
Wow. Fuck this guy.
“Zackary.” I smiled. “You’ve aged.”
“Like fine wine, I’m sure,” he said almost absent-mindedly, still looking down, as if I wasn’t worth his attention.
Dismissive had always been his go-to attitude toward me. It was infuriating.
“Or milk…” I retorted instinctively, though quietly enough that I thought for a second he might not have heard.
But then the corners of his mouth twitched up. Whether in amusement or annoyance, I couldn’t tell. Maybe both. Either way, he finally put his phone down and looked directly at me.
