My heart breaks a little. Not for the reasons those girls seem to think—not because I’m dumb or naive or blinded by love. Not because they think my looks somehow dictate how intelligent I am. That doesn’t bother me. I’ve dealt with that my whole life. I know that my 3.92 grade point average had nothing to do with the fact that I can fill out a bra nicely. I earned it. It was not given to me because I batted my eyelashes and giggled. I don’t need to defend myself to them and I definitely don’t need their approval. I know who I am. That’s all that matters.

But they don’t know Asher. And frankly, I don’t either. But I know there’s more to him than what he shows people. He built up his walls and hardened his shell for a reason. And maybe I’ll never know why, but I’ll sure as hell be by his side whether he wants me there or not. He deserves to know that there’s someone on his team.

So I slip my hand seamlessly into his. We don’t look at each other. We’re trapped in silence. And I meet his gaze out the window and into the city.

We’re alone together.

6

To: Loveridge & McGowan Employee Network

Cc: Ana Loveridge-Herrera, River McGowan

From: Olivia Langley

Subject: Holiday Trivia & Pajama Day!

Friendly reminder that tonight is holiday trivia at Rose Tavern! Winner gets a paid day off!

On Wednesday, don’t forget to wear your pajamas to work! And snuggle up under a blanket for our rooftop viewing of The Santa Clause! Popcorn and heating lamps will be provided!

Also, I find it very offensive that someone would eat all the chocolate out of my advent calendar.

Yours truly,

O. Langley

Social Media Intern & Santa’s Executive Helper

Loveridge & McGowan International

98 W 52nd St, New York, NY 10019

[email protected]

P.S.: Asher, I know it was you.

* * *

Celeste calls out sick on Sunday.

“It’s your lucky day, Olivia.” Ivan comes up behind me and slides his hands up and over my shoulders, giving me an unsettling squeeze as he lowers his mouth against my ear. “You get to close tonight.”

“Okay.” I hope that my quick response will get him away from me, but he lingers, thumbing over the faint outline of my bra strap. He smells like expensive cologne and stale cigarettes. I hold my breath until he leaves. I can feel his hands on me for the rest of my sixteen hour shift.