Page 47 of Infamous Heart

“It’s…” She paused, putting on a performance where she dragged out the tension. I prepared to retaliate, to comment on her lack of style, or comment about her cry for attention with the bright red lipstick. “It’s well thought out, contemporary, but has an edge to it. I don’t know if all our sponsors would approve, but I can think of one or two that would be willing to advertise on an edgier spread.”

Did Rebec—Wraith just compliment me? I expected her to tear me down and leave me the victim of another tongue lashing. But not only did she compliment me, she mentioned sponsors, which meant she saw a future for me in the company. Something was amiss, off, and for the life of me, I couldn’t sort out the rules of this game she played.

“Sebastian?” Damien leaned to the side, looking past me to his art director. “Thoughts?”

I clenched my jaw, preparing to see Sebastian for the first time since he bailed on our date. In my head, I vilified him, holding firmly to the anger I had about him willing to sacrifice Vincent. I feared bumping into him and had fortified my heart for this situation.

He stared at me, but despite the calm facade, I could tell something weighed on his mind. Rebecca thrust my portfolio into his chest, forcing him to take a look. With a slight shake of his head, he started scanning the pages.

I held firm as he struggled to keep his jaw from opening. He gave a slight nod, not letting on that the superpowered person I shredded in the article was him. Rebecca knew, and by the growing smirk on her face, she was more than satisfied that the door between Sebastian and I had slammed shut.

“It’s solid work.”

“Come, Sebastian. I’ve never heard you short on criticism,” Rebecca goaded him.

It dawned on me, Damien and I were the mundane humans in the room. Unless Sebastian had been ignoring his texts, he and Rebecca knew the other’s identity. If a fight broke out, things would get messy. The owner’s prodding didn’t help Sebastian’s demeanor.

“The article needs to be given to a journalist. As for the design work, it’s innovative. It pushes the boundaries of what we’d permit in the book, and that’s part of our trademark. I think we’d be foolish to let the Beacon’s most talented designer slip through our fingers.”

I was about to say thank you for the compliment, but he ruined it by adding the modifier. Rebecca had been terrorizing Beacon employees and now Sebastian mentioned poaching me from the magazine. All this time, I had thought they were valuing my work, but they had an ulterior motive. One piece at a time, they were attempting to dismantle the Beacon, and I had fallen victim to their twisted game.

“Welcome to the staff, Mr. Smith.”

Damien extended his hand and out of politeness, I accepted. The pack of wolves had closed in and slaughtered their sacrificial lamb. I needed to get out of here and put space between me and whatever scheme I had stumbled into.

“You start tomorrow. For now, I need to speak with Rebecca and Sebastian about our largest sponsor to date.”

And with that, I was dismissed.

* * *

I exited the elevator into the lobby. A single woman sat behind the counter of the oversized room. There were a few people milling around, eating lunch on a bench. I had been awarded a senior graphic design position, the very thing I’d been after for the last year. Yet, in my heart, the victory was hollow, and stung almost as much as failure.

“What have you gotten yourself into?”

I meandered through the lobby until I reached the revolving door. With a push, I stepped inside and exited into the courtyard, greeted by the late morning heat. It was either from the lack of clouds or the abundance of layers I wore, but the sweating started quickly. There was nothing more miserable than an overheated Griffin Smith.

I pulled off the jacket, loosened the tie, and unfastened the top button. It wasn’t my usual self, but anything was better than feeling stuffy in my own skin.

“Now, do I celebrate with Alejandro, or do I commiserate with Xander? Bernard.” I fished out my phone and texted Bernard, seeing if he’d be free for dinner later tonight. Korean tacos, cheap beer, and a healthy dose of sagely advice. I couldn’t go wrong.

Hecleared his throat as I pressed the send button.

“Griffin,” the fortress I built for my critique had lowered just enough that hearing him say my name caused my heart to race. “What are you doing?”

I ground my jaw, forcing myself to relive the embarrassment the other night. I wasn’t prepared for a one-on-one with Sebastian, but after showing me his true colors, I had enough fuel to keep myself on fire.

“What do you mean?” I turned to confront him. If there was any chance of my heart melting and throwing myself into his arms, it vanished at the sight of his furrowed brow and snarling lip.

“No warning? Nothing? You just threw together this little project without thinking I deserved a heads up? That stupid spread nearly exposed me.”

“Oh, I didn’t think you’d care. That must only happen when it serves you.”

“You have no idea what I’m dealing with. Rebecca knows my secret. The crazy bitch would have killed you if I hadn’t stepped in to save you.”

I tried not to laugh, but failed. “You only stepped in because I forced your hand. You’d have let her kill Vincent if I didn’t throw myself into danger.”

His eyebrows lowered and the tension in his jaw eased as his mouth gaped. “You played me? You manipulated me into exposing myself to the world?”

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