Chapter 2

“So, Miss Michaelson, it says here you worked at Thorne Automotive Group as an executive assistant?”

The interviewer glanced up at me, skepticism already written across her face.

And at that moment I regretted putting it on my resume.

I had wanted to leave that part of my life behind me. Completely.

But after months of searching with no results, I didn’t have much of a choice.

I didn’t attend a prestigious school.

I didn’t have impressive work experience before or after TAG.

No one was willing to give me a chance.

Until now, after I added it to my resume.

I forced a smile. “Yes. I worked there for a year.”

“Mm-hm.” She flipped through the file.

“So which of the executives were you assisting?” She then stared squarely at me as opposed to how casual she sounded.

I smiled politely.

“I signed an NDA there so I can't give details about my work there, but I really did work there.” I said, the lie rolling freely, I really did sign an NDA but that didn't stop me from mentioning the executive I worked for.

“Mmm, okay then this should be easy. Where’s your reference letter from Thorne Automotive Group?”

My heart dropped.

Of course, she needed a recommendation letter. I thought as heat crept up my neck as panic slowly settled in.

What lie could I possibly tell now?

If I didn’t get this job, it was back to scrubbing vomit off toilet floors, and battling with drunk customers… I swallowed, gathered every last ounce of courage I had left and gave her my best smile.

“I… I don't have one at the moment,”I said quickly, my voice already losing its earlier confidence.

Her expression didn’t change.

“But I can get it as soon as-”

“Sorry, Miss Michaelson, let me stop you there.” she said flatly, cutting me off. “It’s hard to believe you held a position like that with these credentials and yet you can’t provide something as basic as a reference.”

“It’s not what you think,” I rushed. “I can do the job. I just need-”

“We cannot employ you at this time,” she cut in, her tone sharp now.

The finality in her voice made my stomach twist.

“Ma, I can-”

“Please don't make me call the cops and have you arrested for impersonation.”

The words hit harder than they should have.

I stood there for a second too long.

Then I nodded and walked out.

The cold air hit harder than earlier as I pulled my thin and already worn-out coat tighter around myself and hurried toward the train station.

How was I going to survive this horrible winter? I thought to myself, I definitely can’t survive on my measly minimum wage, waiting tables at Enzo’s.

I exhaled slowly, steadying myself as dizziness crept in.

Reaching into my wallet, I checked.

Ten dollars.

That was all I had left.

I couldn’t afford a taxi from the train station home.

I had never been lucky.

Not once.

No family or friends, no safety net.

No one to fall back on.

Growing up alone had taught me one thing, survival.

And then TAG happened.

That job had felt like a miracle.

A once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

And just as quickly as it came, it was gone.

If that night hadn’t happened, if I hadn’t taken that drink… I shut my eyes tightly.

“No,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t go there, you already feel like shit, no need to rub it in.”

Be optimistic.

Be strong. I chanted to myself all through the train ride and the long walk home.

I had to be, that was the only way out of the horror I was living in.

“Hey, shawty.”

A rough voice snapped me out of my thoughts.

I ignored it and kept walking faster.

My building ahead of me came into view.

Calling it terrible would have been generous.

The noise.

The smell.

The people loitering outside.

If nothing else motivated me to get a job, my current living situation did.

At this point, I didn’t care what it was.

I would take anything, even if it meant taking the graveyard shift at the bar.

By the time I got inside, I was exhausted.

I dropped my bag and headed straight for the bathroom.

A hot shower would help.

At least, that was the plan.

I turned the tap only for cold water to slowly pour out, before completely stopping.

I froze.

Then let out a quiet breath.

Of course.

Electricity first, now water.

I leaned against the wall, closing my eyes.

Everything was slipping.

Slowly.

Piece by piece.

A knock sounded at the door.

I frowned, knowing I wasn’t expecting anyone.

No one even knew I lived here.

Probably someone junkie.

I ignored it.

The knock came again.

Louder this time.

My chest tightened as a thought crept in, what if it was the building manager?

I moved slowly toward the door, thinking of another excuse to give as to why I was late on rent.

Each step heavier than the last.

I shouldn’t open it.

Every instinct told me not to.

But I did.

I reached for the handle, turned it.

And pulled the door open, slowly lifting up my head as the lie formed in my tongue.

“Good-” I froze when I saw who it was.

August Thorne.

The one man I had spent the last three months trying to forget along with the memories from the night that changed everything.