He glanced at me in the reflection and tilted his head. “Christ, you’re pale. You really thought I’d explode, didn’t you?”
I was feeling a bit clammy. “You’ve never wanted me there. I figured you’d blame this on me.”
“Why would I?” he asked, putting the comb away. “You didn’t ask for the job, and it’s not like you’d ever take it.”
I frowned, my heart rate slowing. Putting aside the fact that I deserved the opportunity for the way I was turning Modern Man around, why shouldn’t I want to advance my career? What made Sebastian so sure I’d turn it down? “I never said whether I accepted it,” I pointed out.
“Yeah, but I know you well enough now. You wouldn’t do that to me.” He turned, leaning against the dresser as he crossed his arms. “You’re one of the sweetest, most caring women I’ve ever met, Georgina. You’d never take my job, especially after last night.”
I wasn’t sure what to say to that. Especially after last night almost sounded dirty, as if sex had somehow secured my loyalty to him above anyone else, even myself. Vance’s offer was more than an enormous bump in salary—it was vindication that I’d done a good job after all the resistance Sebastian had given me. That I was necessary. That my work mattered. Sebastian had just assumed I’d put him above all that? Of course he did. He thought I was “sweet.” “Caring.” And, I couldn’t forget—easily run over.
My face flushed. With this news, Sebastian had only considered what I was doing to him. Not what this opportunity had meant for me. He’d expected me to limit my career to help his.
“Well, I guess you’re right,” I said, irritation hardening my words. It occurred to me that while there’d been no good time to bring this up, it certainly wasn’t while I was naked. “Can you hand me a shirt from the first drawer?”
He opened it and pulled a faded black, extra-small Jem and the Holograms t-shirt from the top of the pile. “Is this yours?” he asked, holding it up.
“It’s from when I was a kid,” I snapped, gesturing impatiently for it. I made a mental note never to sleep with a guy on laundry day again.
He tossed it to me, narrowing his eyes as I struggled to pull on the too-small shirt while shielding myself with the sheet.
“Is . . . something wrong?” he asked.
“Yep.” I yanked the hem down. “Did you even stop to consider what this could mean for my career?”
“Um . . . no.” He furrowed his brows. “I’m at risk of losing my job, Georgina.”
“A job I’m far too ‘sweet’ and ‘kind’ to take—do I have that right? Too ‘caring’ to put my career above yours?”
“It’s a compliment, for Christ’s sake. I’m trying to say you’re not the kind of person to fuck me over like that.”
In other words, someone like me would never put herself first. I’d heard some version of that before. “I’m too much of a doormat is what you mean.”
“Oh, god.” He ran both hands over his face. “Not even remotely what I said.”
I easily tugged the top sheet free of the mattress since it’d come untucked during last night’s activities. Bruno jerked, jumped off the bed, and ambled away, most likely to the kitchen since it was breakfast time. “You didn’t have to say it,” I said. “I can read between the lines.”
“Let’s keep a little perspective here, shall we? You wouldn’t even be at Modern Man if it wasn’t for my fuck-up.”
“Right, so why’s it so surprising that I’d be the right person for the job?”
“Because it’s not yours. You didn’t kiss ass and bust ass just for a chance at an internship. You weren’t there from day one when the whole operation was an organizational disaster. You didn’t spend countless late nights over several years to bring it back from the brink.” His knuckles had whitened from balling his hands. “You did a good job of getting us back on track, I admit, but you don’t have what it takes to weather the long-term.”
I pulled back. After the last couple months, did he honestly think that? “I don’t have what it takes?”
“No, because you don’t know what it takes. I built our readership from the ground up.”
“And then you jeopardized it.”
His jaw ticked. “Do you think I need that pointed out to me every damn day, or do you just enjoy holding it over me?”
“I didn’t bring this up to debate who would be better at the job. I wanted to be honest with you.” I stood and wrapped the sheet around my waist. “I’m going out on a limb and putting my reputation on the line to prepare you for what’s coming.”
“Oh, then I suppose I should thank you. Thank you for diminishing the work I’ve done so you can feel good about being offered a job you’re not qualified to do.”
I winced and immediately wished I hadn’t shown how much his opinion meant to me. “Do you think I stumbled into your office by accident?” I asked. “I’ve done my homework. I studied the mistakes you made, researched what failed, and came to you with solutions—solutions that worked. Subscription rates are finally starting to rise. The female demographic is growing. College educated, high-income readers that we lost are returning. Don’t you dare tell me I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re good at your job,” he said steadily. “But no way in hell are you the best person for mine. I am.” He paused, his expression cooling. “Wait. Are you trying to tell me you’re actually considering it?”
“That’s not the point.” I started to pick up the sheet to storm off, but apparently I had more to say. “You just assumed I wouldn’t take it and never considered what this could mean for my career.”
“Your career? What about mine?” He pushed off the dresser and gestured behind him. “This is my job, and you wouldn’t just take it. It’s not who you are.”
Who exactly did he think I was? Because it was starting to feel as if he saw me the way Neal had. Weak. Agreeable. Pushover. “A job you said was no longer fulfilling.”
He studied me, shaking his head. “Is this why you were encouraging me to reconsider going to Boston? So you wouldn’t feel guilty accepting Vance’s offer?”
I gaped at him. What a slap in the face after the way I’d been nothing but supportive while he’d finally shared his background with me. “Of course not. I was trying to help. You said you were feeling complacent.”
“Great,” he said wryly, stooping to pick up the pillow I’d thrown earlier. He tossed it on the bed. “Now you’re going to use my fucking words against me.”
“I’m just pointing out that maybe leaving Modern Man wouldn’t be such a bad thing.”
“Well, that’s convenient, isn’t it?” He grabbed my dress off the floor next. “I’m starting to regret that I opened up to you.”
“Oh yeah? Me too. Here’s a fairy tale pun for you—Hansel and Regretal.” I gathered the sheet in my arms and took off for my bathroom. How had I let myself get so wrapped up in Sebastian mere months after I’d been through this with Neal? I spun back. “I assume I don’t have to tell you to leave.”
“Georgina, come on.” He sighed, still gripping my dress. “What’d you expect me to say? Congratulations?”
“I expected you to react like the rational, supportive person I thought I was getting involved with. You can’t tell me the possibility of losing your job never crossed your mind.”
“Of course it has. Why do you think I’m not more surprised? I knew my ass was on the line.”
“Then it must’ve also occurred to you that Vance might replace you with me.” Still stung that he’d thought I might try to use our heart-to-heart the night before against him, I added, “So how do I know you didn’t plan yesterday so I’d feel loyal to you?”
He looked taken aback. Good. Now he knew how it felt to have his intentions doubted. “Are you kidding me?” he asked.