sorted a hundred times.
“Look, Ali,” he says, removing them gently from my hands to put them back in my briefcase, which he snaps shut with sharp emphasis. “You made out with the wrong boy, but you—”
“I shouldn’t have made out with any boy,” I say. “That’s the problem. I was there to work .”
Philippe runs a hand through his blond-tipped auburn curls and sighs. “It was a party.”
“But it wasn’t supposed to be a party for me. It was my job . I went to meet the staff and get a feel for Adam Blackwood.”
Philippe chuckles and shoots me a look. “Well, you did get that feel. And you, um, met his staff .”
I put my face in my hands. “Don’t remind me.”
“Stop that. You’ll smudge.” He pulls my hands away from my face and captures them in his own. “So, you got a little tipsy and had an adventure. Big deal.”
The word “adventure” makes me picture Adam, sitting in the gazebo. Something in the way he held himself and in the sound of his voice—hesitant, relieved—when he told me his one true thing. I felt the weight of every word, and I wanted to pull more from him, let him know that I would be careful with what he gave me.
But this is business. I have to redeem myself with my parents, prove I can be trusted again. Especially with alcohol and boys. Right now, I’m down on both counts.
“I just . . . I didn’t want to screw up again,” I tell him. “My dad’s trusting me with something huge. And I haven’t given him many reasons to trust me lately.”
“That’s not true. You’re brilliant, Ali. And hard working.”
“And I almost flunked out of college. In my senior year. Who does that?”
Only Philippe knew that I’d failed a whole semester’s worth of classes, burned friendships, and made such a colossal mess of things that it had taken a sizable endowment to the college to allow me to walk at graduation and make up the classes during the summer. Instead of backpacking around Europe, I got to plod through online courses. I’m still waiting for my real diploma in the mail.
I look down at my hands. Already, my French manicure ischipped, just a fraction, at the edges. I wanted everything to be perfect today, and nothing is.
“You’re so hard on yourself.”
“Apparently not hard enough.”
Glancing over at the bank of elevators, I catch sight of a familiar figure and realize it’s Mia, rushing across the marble floor to catch the elevator doors before they sweep shut.
Oh, God. Does she know about this? Adam promised he’d keep it to himself and said he trusted his employee—that terrifying woman, Cookie—to do the same. But how do I know they’re not having a huge laugh over it right now?
No. I won’t have that. I’m tired of having my bad choices define me. Worse, derail me. There’s no reason I can’t get in there and take charge of the situation. After all, I’m the one whose father has twenty million dollars to invest. Adam Blackwood needs me more than I need him. I just have to get in there and prove that. Not let the situation rattle me.
I take a deep breath and smooth my hair back from my brow, tidying the few escaped wisps back into my chignon.
“Flawless,” says Philippe.
Far from it, but I just tell him I’m glad he’s with me. Nancy and Simon, the accountant and lawyer on my team, have worked for my dad for years and still treat me like the little girl who used to do horseback riding tricks for them at my father’s parties. It’s nice to have a real ally.
“I’m sure Graham would have preferred to hire a nice intern for you. One who knows the first thing about business.”
We get up from the table and head to the elevator. Inside, I give his waist a quick squeeze. “You know more than you think.”
“Ditto.”
I nod. Now, I just have to own it.
Inside the bright modern offices of Boomerang, Philippe asks where we can find Adam.
Just his name makes anxiety spark inside my chest. But I don’t let it show. It will be
Translated by George Fyler Townsend