Chapter 8
834 Words
-Everly-
What a mess, I thought, what had she even expected would happen by coming here? Did she honestly believe she could fool me?
And yet, it wasn’t anger I felt. If anything, I found her rather brave. If she’d come here pregnant, fighting for this position, there had to be a reason. What reason, exactly? My eyes drifted down her body, lingering on her stomach.
“You’d be going on maternity leave in a few months,” I said.
Calliope nodded, another wave of her sweet scent reaching me. Why was that? What perfume was she wearing?
“How could I hire someone who’ll be leaving so soon?” I pressed, hoping her answer would reveal the truth.
“I-I didn’t really plan to—”
“To keep it?”
“N-No. I mean… I mean, I didn’t plan on taking any leave,” she stumbled, glancing at me.
“And just give birth here in the office?” I quipped lightly.
She didn’t laugh. Instead, her expression darkened, sadness clouding her features.
“Calliope?” I prompted.
“You’re my only chance,” she whispered.
“What?” I was caught off guard.
When she looked up, I saw someone who looked… broken.
“No one else will hire me,” she said quietly. “And I really need this job.”
The emphasis she put on need struck me. Whatever she was dealing with, it was serious. I looked away. Normally, I wouldn’t let something like this affect me. I was a shark. But with her…
“I see,” I said carefully. “Can you tell me why?”
She hesitated, then placed a hand on her stomach. “Because I’m pregnant,” she admitted. “And if I don’t get this job, I won’t be able to feed my child.”
F*ck. That was serious. But did that mean she was alone?
“You don’t have anyone else?” I inquired.
She shook her head.
“What about the father?” I pressed gently.
“Dead,” she replied flatly.
“Oh. I… um. I’m sorry,” I said.
She shook her head again. “We didn’t get along,” she explained. “I just want to focus on myself and my child now. And this job could help us so much.”
She looked at me with a mixture of desperation and hope, and suddenly I felt cornered. What is it about her that affects me so deeply?
“I really am a hard worker,” she assured me. “And if I get this job, I’ll be eternally grateful and prove to you, over and over, just how thankful I am.”
My thoughts went somewhere they shouldn’t, imagining how she might show that gratitude. Goddess, what is this wolf doing to me? Is this the beginning of some bad porno?
“Listen, Calliope,” I began.
She looked at me with those wide, desperate eyes, and suddenly the words, I can’t hire you, refused to leave my lips. I tried, truly I did, but instead I heard myself say, “You’re… hired.”
“I am?”
What the f*ck did I just do? I sat there, stunned, replaying the words in my head, unsure how it had even happened.
“Oh, thank you, thank you!” she repeated.
She stood and reached for my hand, which rested on the table, shaking it enthusiastically. I snapped myself out of my trance and quickly straightened, pulling my hand back, though not before noticing the way my skin tingled afterward. I discreetly shook it out.
“I’m taking a chance on you, Miss Grey,” I reminded her, mostly to reassure myself. This was strictly professional.
“Of course. I understand,” she said quickly. “I’m just so happy, Miss Colt. I won’t let you down!”
“Just Everly,” I said, then immediately regretted it. Hadn’t I just decided to keep things professional?
“Oh… uh…”
“But Miss Colt is fine,” I corrected.
Calliope stood there, still smiling from ear to ear, and I rose as well. I guided her toward the door, and she followed obediently. She was certainly testing my resolve.
No mixing business with pleasure, I reminded myself. But she made that difficult, standing there beaming at me.
“Thank you!” she repeated.
“Yes, you’ve said that,” I replied, gesturing toward the open space beyond the door.
“Right. Have a good day,” she said, nearly running off.
“You too,” I replied. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
Calliope nodded and headed down the hallway toward the elevator, almost skipping.
It was… adorable. I shook my head and walked over to Jen, who sat at her desk, looking rather confused as she turned to me.
“So?” she asked.
“I really wish you didn’t have to go.”
“Why?”
“Because I make stupid decisions.”
- Writer
