She huffed out a small laugh. “Look like what?”
“Edible. That’s the word. Edible.”
She shook her head. “I’m not edible, okay? Stop keeping me in suspense. We don’t want this to end, but your mother was very clear. It’s either you or my job. And I just, I’ve worked so hard, Owen.”
“I know. I know. Look, I met with a friend. My mother loathes her, but she works for Teen Vogue. She’s a senior editor there. I’ve arranged for her to give you an internship.”
Tanith blinked slowly. “What?”
“Yeah. I’ve known her for a while. She’s been trying to get me to leave Preston. Offered me several jobs. And she and my mother? They had a falling out. Anyway, I told her that I wasn’t available, that was going to cause the kind of war she wasn’t ready for. But I had another option for her. Someone even better than I was.”
I waited for it, the clapping, the squealing, the excitement that would light her eyes and the way she would look at me as if I were the most important person in her life. Someone who had saved her, someone who had fixed everything.
But that wasn’t the look she was giving me. Instead, she kept doing a slow blink. Blink. Blink. Blink. “You went to Teen Vogue about me?”
I nodded. “It’s all managed. You can even have your same schedule. She’s waiting for you to call her. Once you do, it’ll be all set.”
“You arranged it? I would call this woman and I would just start an internship somewhere else?”
“Yes. My mother can’t control us.”
“Your mother?” Her brows furrowed as she spoke softly.
“God, she’s the worst. She’s always been controlling. Selected my friends, determined who I could see, who I couldn’t see in a way that left me no room to grow. And if I didn’t do things exactly as she wanted, there were consequences. If I ever fought back, she’d use her influence to get that person out of my life. I’m bloody sick of it. She’s not going to run you off. No way. No how.”
“So you called in a favor and got me a job, doing God knows what, somewhere else?”
Why didn’t she look happier?
“It’s publishing. I explained to her your duties, what you did for my mother. She was excited because clearly you know what you’re doing. She doesn’t have to train you. You can hit the ground running.”
“I can hit the ground running.”
She kept repeating what I said. But then, also, the tone. It was off. Then I really looked at her. Watched her warily. She was unhappy. There were no bright eyes. No secret smile just for me. There was no climbing into my lap and giving me kisses like I had envisioned.
“Are you happy?”
She shook her head slowly. “No. Oh no, I’m decidedly not happy.”
My brows dropped down. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because you . . . after everything you said to me about everything we’ve been through together, about how much you cared about me, about how you can’t stand to be apart from me. After all that, the one thing I needed you to do, you didn’t.”
I shook my head. “What’s your problem?”
“My problem? Owen. God, how are you so brilliant but you can’t see it?”
“What? You’re angry with me?”
“Yes, Owen. I’m ticked the fuck off.”
“What is your fucking problem? You should be ecstatic. We’re together. You have the same exact job. Same responsibilities.” I frowned at her. “Unless you don’t want to be with me. Unless being with me was a ploy to get to my mother.”
More slow blinking. “Wow. So now being with you is a ploy to get to your mother?”
Fuck. That was a miscalculation. “Okay. I’m sorry.” I ran my hands through my hair. “I’m just frustrated, and I don’t understand what the problem is. I got you what you wanted. You wanted your job and me.”
“Yes. I want my job. The one I earned. The one I busted my ass for. Not one that you deemed would be good enough.”
“It’s fucking Teen Vogue. Do you know how many people would kill for that job? And I walked in there and got it for you.”
She stood then. “That’s the problem, Owen. You walked in there and got me a job with some chick you probably have shagged seventy-five million times.”
I frowned at that. “You’re jealous? Oh my God. Look, I’m sure Isabella would, but I’m not shagging her just to get back at Mum.”
“Are you shagging me to get back at your mother?”
I pushed in my feet then, too, towering over her, glaring at this girl whom I’d just wanted to make fucking happy. Why wasn’t she happy?
“Take it back.”
She didn’t back down, didn’t step away. She was forever my goddess, unafraid. “No, I won’t. Because what you should have done is gone to your mother and told her how you felt about me. Told her that her attempts to bully me to control you were not okay. What you should’ve done was fight for me, Owen. Instead, you slunk off into the shadows to try and squirrel me away so that maybe she wouldn’t notice I was still around. God, what is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me? I’m not trying to hide you. God, you should be grateful. We get to be together. You get to do the same job that you had before.”
“A job I didn’t earn!”
“What, you think your fellowship and the work you’ve done doesn’t factor into doing something for Teen Vogue?”
“Oh my God. What I’m telling you is that all that work that I’ve done earned me a job at Preston. I walked in there and I pitched myself. Stood on
