Chapter 1
Phoebe's POV:
The design review had dragged on for 4 hours. I'd gotten up early without eating, and my blood sugar had dropped so low that my vision kept going dark.
Under the table, I pulled out my phone and texted my boyfriend, who sat at the head of the table.
Phoebe: Mr. Holloway, my blood sugar is low. I'm about to pass out. Could you ask reception to bring me a hot chocolate with extra sugar?
Grant Holloway's phone lit up as he listened to the presentation beside the projector.
He glanced at it without a flicker of emotion, then went on pointing out structural flaws in the drawings.
Only 40 minutes later did he signal for his assistant to close them.
"Thank you, everyone. Since we missed lunch, I had admin order refreshments from the Valennian bakery next door. Caramel nut tarts and mochas for everyone."
My fingers tightened around my phone.
I was the only person at the firm with a severe nut allergy. Even breathing in a trace of nut dust could make it hard for me to breathe.
Our exhausted coworkers perked up at once. Someone even nudged Vanessa Pierce, who sat beside me.
"Vanessa, you mentioned wanting their nut tarts this morning, and Mr. Holloway remembered!"
Vanessa lowered her head with a shy smile and twirled a strand of hair around her finger.
"Don't be silly. Maybe he just likes that bakery."
My phone vibrated. Grant had sent me a money transfer, followed by a message.
Grant: If you don't feel well, buy yourself something else. I run this team. I can't plan everyone's refreshments around your preferences alone.
I stared at the transfer without accepting it.
I still felt sick from low blood sugar.
And suddenly, I knew it was time to end the relationship we'd kept secret for 6 years.
My empty stomach burned. I barely had the strength to stand, much less go downstairs for food.
I struggled back to my desk, opened the bottom drawer, and found an emergency protein bar that had expired 2 weeks ago. I bit into it mechanically.
From the materials sample room next door, I heard my coworkers talking in low voices.
"Phoebe Sutton acts like she's above everyone, but she can't take her eyes off Mr. Holloway. Does she think we can't tell what she's after?"
"Exactly. He obviously can't stand her. He won't even meet with her about a project unless someone else is there. He wants nothing to do with her."
"Remember that downpour? His car had plenty of room, but he let Vanessa ride up front and drove her to the subway station. Phoebe was standing by the road getting soaked, and he acted like he couldn't see her. He couldn't have snubbed her more if he tried."
"Vanessa, that one permanent assistant architect position has to be yours. He's always so nice to you."
Vanessa answered softly, "Everyone here is talented. Phoebe's actually better at the work than I am. Please don't say that about her."
I looked down at the internship evaluation form on my desk.
My design had been nominated for an industry gold award. My attendance was perfect.
Vanessa had submitted drawings with safety flaws twice. Coming in late and leaving early were routine for her.
Yet during the hiring process, Grant had personally crossed my name off the list, all to avoid any hit of favoritism.
"Phoebe, I don't allow office romances. They compromise my professional judgment."
I hadn't been willing to give up. "Grant, I had the best design skills of any applicant. We don't have to tell anyone we're together. I'll just be your employee."
He had refused coldly, "I can't make an exception. To make it up to you, I hired Vanessa, who came to the interview with you. I thought that might make you feel better."
In the end, another partner had admired my drawings enough to insist on hiring me over everyone else's objections.
I'd never expected Grant to pull strings for me. I hadn't expected his determination to avoid favoritism to turn into cruelty directed at me alone, either.
The nut tarts arrived, filling the air with their cloying sweetness.
My throat began to itch. I dropped the dry protein bar into the trash with barely a bite taken out of it.
Grant happened to walk past with a file. He spotted the protein bar wrapper in the bin and frowned at the expiration date.
"Take a 30-minute break. Put your work aside."
I stood to go splash some water on my face in the restroom, but the moment I took a step, a violent wave of dizziness hit me.
As I lost my balance, I instinctively looked at Grant beside me.
The fingers at his side jerked. His hand even started to rise.
Then he stopped himself and put it in his pocket.
I hit the floor hard. My elbow struck the sharp corner of a desk, sending pain through my arm.
Grant even took half a step back, as though he couldn't let my fall so much as disturb his tailored suit.
"Someone help her up," he said, cold and distant.
Paige Dunn, another intern, ran over and grabbed my arm with obvious distaste. She lowered her voice.
"Phoebe, this little pity act is pathetic. You think he'll scoop you up just because you fall down? You've watched too many romcoms."
I pulled my arm free. "Don't bother. I can stand up myself."
Bracing myself against the wall, I limped into the sample room.
It was empty.
Ignoring the dull ache in my arm, I reached for a tape measure on the top shelf.
A clean, slender hand reached past me from behind, took it down with ease, and held it out.
I turned to find Grant looking grim.
"Still sulking? Skipping lunch now? Who do you think you're punishing?"
