OFF LIMIT

Chapter 8

The next morning started with a phone call I hadn't been expecting.

I was halfway through my coffee when my phone rang, an unfamiliar number flashing across the screen.

I almost ignored it.

Almost.

"Hello?"

"Good morning. May I speak with Ms. Isabella Sinclair?"

"This is Isabella."

"Hi, Isabella. I'm calling regarding your application for the Project Manager position at Meridian Developments."

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

"Oh."

The woman on the other end laughed softly.

"Is that a good oh?"

"Yes. Definitely a good oh."

She explained that they had reviewed my application and wanted to invite me for an interview the following morning.

Tomorrow.

I wrote down the time and address, thanked her about three times, and ended the call.

Then I just sat there staring at my phone.

I had actually gotten an interview.

A real one.

Something I'd applied for without my father's name, without Theo's connections, without anyone making a call on my behalf.

Just me.

My MBA.

My experience.

My application.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Then I immediately called Sienna.

She answered on the fourth ring.

"Please tell me this is important because I was sleeping."

"It's nine in the morning."

"Exactly."

"I got an interview."

There was a pause.

Then a scream so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"You got it?"

"I got it."

"Oh my God."

She was suddenly wide awake.

"For what?"

"Project Manager at Meridian Developments."

"That's huge."

"I know."

"You're going."

"Obviously."

"And we're shopping."

I laughed.

"I have clothes."

"No. You have clothes for going out. You have clothes for pretending you don't care what people think. You do not have clothes for convincing a room full of executives that you're competent and terrifying."

"I can be terrifying in my own clothes."

"No, you can't."

"Sienna."

"Be ready in an hour."

She hung up.

I stared at my phone.

"Apparently I have no say in my own life."

Two hours later, I was standing outside a changing room while Sienna held up another blazer.

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I look like someone's secretary."

"You are not a secretary."

"That's exactly what someone dressed like a secretary would say."

She rolled her eyes.

"Try it."

I did.

She was right.

I hated that.

We spent the next few hours wandering through the mall, going from one store to another while Sienna rejected half the things I picked up and forced me to try on the other half.

Eventually, we found it.

A tailored black pencil skirt that fell neatly to my knees, paired with a soft ivory blouse and a fitted black blazer.

Simple.

Professional.

Elegant.

Exactly what I needed.

"I'll take it."

"Finally."

She grinned.

We paid and left with bags hanging from our arms.

Afterward, we found a quiet little café tucked down a side street not far from the mall.

It was exactly the kind of place I loved. Small, elegant and warm, with soft music playing somewhere in the background and enough distance between the tables that you didn't feel like you were listening to everyone else's conversations. The smell of fresh coffee and baked goods filled the air, and sunlight came through the large windows, falling across the little wooden tables.

We had barely stepped inside when Sienna stopped.

"Oh."

I looked at her.

"What?"

She was staring toward the back of the café.

"Is that Dad?"

My stomach dropped.

I followed her gaze.

Theo.

He was sitting at one of the tables near the window.

And he wasn't alone.

There was a woman sitting across from him.

I stopped walking.

Completely.

The woman was beautiful.

Not young in the way I suddenly wished she was.

Mature.

Elegant.

Confident.

She wore a fitted cream dress beneath a tailored jacket, her hair perfectly styled, her makeup understated but flawless. She carried herself like someone who knew exactly who she was and had no need to prove it.

She was the kind of woman who belonged beside a man like Theo.

The thought came so quickly I barely had time to stop it.

Oh.

Something cold settled in my stomach.

Theo and the woman were deep in conversation. He was listening while she spoke, occasionally saying something that made her smile.

Then he laughed.

A genuine laugh.

I stared.

Sienna lifted a hand to wave.

"Hi, Dad."

Theo didn't notice.

She waved again.

Still nothing.

He was too absorbed in whatever they were discussing.

My mind had already started doing what it always did when it came to him.

Is she his girlfriend?

Are they dating?

How long has this been going on?

I hated myself for wondering.

But I couldn't stop.

She looked like exactly the kind of woman Theo would want.

Sophisticated.

Experienced.

Beautiful without trying too hard.

A woman who belonged in his world.

A woman his age.

A woman who didn't have to hide the fact that she wanted him.

My chest tightened.

Of course he'd never look at me like that.

Why would he?

I was Isabella.

His best friend's daughter.

Sienna's best friend.

The girl he'd watched grow up.

Whatever feelings I had for him existed entirely inside my own head.

They always had.

"Come on," Sienna said, already walking toward the table.

I didn't move.

"I'll wait here."

She looked at me strangely but didn't question it.

I walked toward an empty table a short distance away and sat down, placing our shopping bags beside me.

From where I was sitting, I could still see them.

Sienna reached Theo's table and finally caught his attention.

His entire face changed when he saw her.

"Sienna."

He smiled.

Then his eyes moved past her.

Straight to me.

For a second, I forgot how to breathe.

His expression softened.

He lifted a hand.

"Isabella."

I managed a smile and a small wave.

That was all I could give him.

Sienna was already introducing herself to the woman.

"This is my best friend, Isabella."

The woman smiled warmly.

Sienna pulled out the chair beside her and joined them, and within seconds the three of them were talking.

I watched from my table, trying very hard not to.

The woman was laughing at something Sienna had said.

She seemed completely at ease.

And somehow that made the ache in my chest worse.

I looked down at the menu even though I wasn't reading it.

A few minutes later, Sienna finally returned to our table.

"Kayla is so sweet."

"Kayla?"

"Yeah. That's her name."

"Oh."

"She's really nice. We were talking about you."

"Me?"

"Yes. Dad told her you'd just come back home."

"Right."

I took a sip of my coffee.

It tasted like nothing.

Sienna continued talking, completely unaware that I was barely listening.

Kayla this.

Kayla that.

She was kind.

She was funny.

She had apparently worked with Theo on something before.

I nodded at the appropriate moments and tried to convince myself I didn't care.

I failed.

"You okay?"

I looked at Sienna.

"Yeah."

"You've been quiet."

"I'm just nervous about tomorrow."

It wasn't entirely a lie.

Sienna immediately softened.

"You're going to be amazing."

"What if I'm not?"

"You are."

"What if they don't think I'm good enough?"

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.

"Then they're idiots."

I laughed quietly.

"Seriously, Bella. You worked hard for your MBA. You know what you're doing. You don't need Dad's company. You don't need anyone's name attached to yours. Go in there and show them who you are."

Something in my chest loosened.

"Thanks."

"Always."

We stayed for another hour, although I only half noticed the time.

Eventually, I glanced toward the other table.

Theo and Kayla were standing.

My eyes followed them before I could stop myself.

Theo said something that made her laugh.

Then they headed toward the door together.

My stomach twisted.

I looked down at my coffee.

I didn't watch them leave.

At least I told myself I didn't.

Before leaving, I stopped by the café's counter.

I bought a box of little cakes for myself and several pastries for Mom.

She had a sweet tooth.

Unfortunately, I'd inherited it.

Sienna dropped me home, and I thanked her before heading inside.

For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to forget about Theo.

It didn't work.

Instead, I sat at my desk with my laptop open, reading everything I could find about Meridian Developments.

Their projects.

Their leadership team.

Their recent work.

Their values.

Their expansion plans.

I took notes.

I researched the position.

I went through possible interview questions.

By the time evening came, I was feeling confident again.

Nervous.

But confident.

Then my phone buzzed.

Theo: Good luck tomorrow.

I smiled before I could stop myself.

Isabella: Thanks.

A few seconds later:

Theo: Where is it?

I narrowed my eyes at the screen.

Isabella: I'm not telling you.

Theo: Why?

Isabella: Because I know you. You're going to call them.

Theo: I would never.

I raised an eyebrow.

Isabella: You absolutely would.

A few seconds passed.

Theo: Fine. Maybe.

I laughed quietly.

Then another message appeared.

Theo: You're always welcome to work at Kingsley Group, you know.

I stared at it for a moment.

His company.

My father's company.

The company they had built together.

The company I'd deliberately stayed away from because I wanted something that belonged to me.

Isabella: Maybe later.

Theo: Fair enough.

Theo: Don't stress about tomorrow. Get some proper rest.

Isabella: I'll try.

Theo: Not try. Do.

I shook my head.

Isabella: Goodnight, Theo.

Theo: Goodnight, Isabella. Sleep well.

I put my phone down.

For a few seconds, I just stared at the ceiling.

His messages shouldn't have meant so much.

They did anyway.

I woke before my alarm the next morning.

My stomach was already twisting.

Interview day.

I got out of bed and reached for my phone.

A notification appeared.

Theo.

Theo: Good morning. Don't be nervous. Eat properly before you go. I have confidence in you. You'll do great. Good luck.

I read it twice.

Then a smile slowly spread across my face.

I needed that.

More than he probably realized.

I got ready carefully, keeping everything simple and professional.

The black pencil skirt, ivory blouse and fitted blazer I'd bought with Sienna were laid out neatly on the bed.

I added small gold earrings, a delicate watch and black heels.

I looked at myself in the mirror.

Professional.

Put together.

Ready.

Or at least, pretending to be.

Downstairs, Mom took one look at me and immediately said, "Sit."

"Mom..."

"Breakfast."

"I'm nervous."

"Exactly why you need to eat."

I laughed and sat down.

She pushed a plate toward me.

I ate because arguing with my mother before an interview seemed like a poor life choice.

I left earlier than necessary.

The office was only about twenty minutes away without traffic, but traffic had never cared about anyone's plans.

I wanted time.

I wanted to arrive early.

I wanted to breathe.

When I finally reached the building, I parked where the security guard directed me and walked toward the entrance.

The building was enormous.

Glass.

Steel.

Clean lines.

People moving through the lobby with the purposeful expressions of people who knew exactly where they were going.

I took one breath.

Then another.

Inside, I approached reception.

"Good morning. I'm here for an interview."

The receptionist checked her list.

"Name?"

"Isabella Sinclair."

She looked down at the list.

Then smiled.

"Yes. You're expected. Please take a seat in the waiting area."

I thanked her and walked over.

There were already several candidates waiting.

Men and women.

Some older.

Some younger.

Everyone looked prepared.

Everyone looked confident.

Suddenly, my palms were sweating.

I sat down and crossed my legs, keeping my hands folded neatly over my bag.

You belong here.

I repeated it silently.

You belong here.

A few minutes later, a door opened.

"Ms. Sinclair?"

I stood.

"Yes."

"Please come in."

I followed him inside.

There was only one interviewer.

A man who looked to be in his fifties.

He gestured toward the chair opposite his desk.

"Please, sit."

I sat.

The first few questions were normal.

My qualifications.

My MBA.

My previous experience.

My understanding of project management.

Why I wanted the position.

I answered confidently.

He nodded several times, taking notes.

For the first few minutes, everything felt completely normal.

Then his gaze changed.

It lingered.

Not on my face.

Lower.

I shifted in my seat.

He smiled.

"You know, Ms. Sinclair, you're beautiful."

I gave him a polite smile.

"Thank you."

"And you know what?"

He leaned back in his chair, looking me over without even trying to hide it.

"You have a very nice body."

My smile disappeared.

"I believe my qualifications are what should matter for this position."

He chuckled.

"Of course they do."

His eyes travelled over me again.

"But let's be honest. A woman like you knows exactly what she has."

My stomach turned.

I sat straighter.

"I'd prefer to keep this professional."

He laughed.

"Professional?"

He looked directly at my legs before meeting my eyes again.

"I've been looking at your ass since you walked through that door."

My face burned with anger.

"Excuse me?"

"That skirt looks f*****g good on you."

I stared at him, completely disgusted.

He didn't seem remotely embarrassed.

"If you want the job, Isabella, you could make things very easy for both of us."

I slowly stood.

"I think we're done here."

"Sit down."

"No."

I picked up my bag.

He smiled.

"You really want to walk away from this?"

"I'm going to report you."

"Report me?"

"Yes."

He stood.

"I'm the boss here."

Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl.

I stepped backward.

"Stay away from me."

He came around the desk.

"You don't have to be difficult."

"I said stay away."

I moved toward the door.

He caught my wrist.

"Let go of me."

I pulled against his grip.

He tightened it.

"Come on. Don't make this harder than it needs to be."

"Get your f*****g hand off me."

He ignored me.

His other hand reached toward me, and panic shot through my entire body.

I reacted before I could think.

I drove my knee up his d**k with everything I had.

He doubled over with a strangled cry.

I tore my wrist free and ran.

I didn't look back.

I didn't stop for my car.

I didn't care about my bag or the interview or the job.

I just needed to get out.

I walked.

Fast.

My heart was hammering against my ribs.

My hands were shaking.

I could barely breathe.

The sounds of the street blurred around me.

I kept walking until my legs finally gave up.

I sat down on the edge of the pavement, pulled my phone from my bag and stared at the screen through blurred eyes.

Gabriel.

I called him.

Once.

No answer.

Again.

Nothing.

My throat tightened.

I didn't know who else to call.

Then I saw his name.

Theo.

My thumb hovered over it.

I hesitated.

Then I pressed call.

He answered on the first ring.

"Isabella?"

I tried to speak.

Nothing came out.

He heard my breathing.

His voice changed immediately.

"What happened?"

I swallowed hard.

"Theo..."

"Where are you?"

"I..."

My voice broke.

He didn't ask anything else.

"Tell me where you are."

I gave him the location.

"I'm coming."

"Theo..."

"I'm coming, Isabella."

The call ended.

I sat there with my arms wrapped around myself, trying desperately to stop shaking.

I didn't know how long it took.

It felt like forever.

Then a car pulled up nearby.

The door opened.

"Isabella."

I looked up.

Theo.

The moment I saw him, whatever control I'd been holding onto disappeared.

I stood, and he barely had time to react before I crossed the distance between us and threw my arms around him.

He caught me immediately.

I buried my face against his chest.

And I cried.

I cried harder than I had in years.

His arms tightened around me, steady and protective.

"Hey."

His voice was low.

"I'm here."

I couldn't stop.

I tried to speak, but every time I opened my mouth, another sob came.

He didn't rush me.

He just held me.

One hand resting firmly between my shoulder blades, the other around my shoulders.

Eventually, I managed to whisper through the tears.

"Please."

His voice softened.

"What?"

"Take me away from here."

His jaw tightened.

"Okay."

He held me a little closer.

"You're coming home with me."