Willow did the right thing—leaving.

She can’t make real connections here. Everyone eventually recognizes her as Loren Hale’s sister, and in London, she has a chance to fall under the radar.

My phone vibrates.

It’s now almost 3 a.m. Which means it’s almost 8 a.m. in London.

Excitement thrums my veins, thinking it’s her, but when I see the text, it’s worse than a balloon pop. It’s like someone shot a bullet at a blimp.

The person who texted me… It’s my boss.

Connor Cobalt: Meeting tomorrow. 11 a.m. My office.

He attached a screenshot of the drug test I took my first day on the job.

It came back positive.

Fuck.

3 PRESENT DAY – September

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

GARRISON ABBEY

Age 20

He shouldn’t have given me this job. It’s what I know as I face the twenty-nine-year-old business titan. Connor Cobalt is the CEO of Cobalt Inc., a company that has a hand in just about everything you can think of. Magnets. Paints. Diamonds. The list goes on and on. One big company owning smaller subsidiaries.

So the day Connor looked at me and said he wanted me to create something for him—I should have rejected the offer. There’s no way this is going any other direction than south. Fast.

I don’t even look like I should be working here.

He fixes the cuffs to his thousand-dollar Armani suit.

I’m wearing black jeans and a hoodie. Though, he did tell me on the first day that I could wear whatever the fuck I wanted. So that’s on him.

His blue eyes collide with mine as he reaches for his coffee. Intimidating is probably too delicate a word to describe this guy. He oozes I’m fucking better than you charisma. And don’t ask me how it’s charismatic. It should come across like he’s an asshole, but it actually doesn’t.

I don’t get it.

Supreme confidence. That has to be it.

He sips his coffee. Silence lingering, and his eyes focus on me even harder.

It feels hot in here all of a sudden. I push up the sleeves of my hoodie.

“Garrison,” Connor says after a tense beat. “I don’t want to waste your time. I don’t think you want to waste mine.” He sets down the coffee cup and slides a printed piece of paper across the table. I recognize it instantly as the attachment he sent last night.

My failed drug test.

Awesome.

I read the small details quickly. The chart has a spike for increased levels of THC. Marijuana. I smoked a blunt a couple days before Willow left for London. If I’d known there was going to be a drug test at Cobalt Inc., I wouldn’t have smoked—but this is my first corporate job.

The only other place I’ve worked is Superheroes & Scones, and the employees there were all nerds, geeks, or broken toys needing a home. No one even needs a reference to get hired at S&S.

“You’re firing me,” I assume.

Connor is a hard book to read. Face impassive. He could bluff his way out of any poker hand. It makes this interaction more uncomfortable. I shift in my seat.