The Promotion

Chapter Three

My eyes fluttered open and I blinked at the unfamiliar angle of the room before it clicked. I hadn't even bothered going to bed last night—I'd crashed on the couch. Daylight seeped through the window in thin strips. I didn't feel hungover, which meant I hadn't overdone it. I checked my phone.

Eight o'clock.

Groggy and heavy-limbed, I sank back into the cushions. Maybe going out on a work night hadn't been my brightest idea.

Yesterday came rushing back in fragments—my anger at Calum... and the conversation with the stranger at the pub. The guy whose name I never even got. He barely knew me, yet he'd listened like he had all the time in the world, as if my problems mattered.

I'd probably blabbed like an idiot.

It wasn't like me to spill everything to a random stranger. And yet... something about him felt different. I couldn't put my finger on what it was, but I couldn't stop replaying his words.

My mind drifted back to the promotion. Apply or don't apply. Pros and cons. Logic versus guilt. I was stuck in a loop.

The bedroom door creaked open.

I turned my head and saw Calum stumble out, half asleep, hair sticking up, eyes barely open.

"Oh," I said dryly. "You're up early. Off to work, are you?"

He mumbled something I couldn't make out, then shuffled over and dropped onto the couch beside me, resting his head on my shoulder as if nothing had happened.

I kept my voice calm. "About yesterday... what happened? Why didn't you go? Jackie spoke to me. I was really embarrassed."

Calum let out a slow sigh. "I was going to go."

"So why didn't you?"

"I went out for a bit," he said with a shrug, staring down at his lap. "Lost track of time. Before I knew it, I was late."

I closed my eyes, disappointment washing over me. I didn't even have the energy to argue. There was no point. So I left it.

I pushed myself up and went to make coffee. Work wasn't optional, no matter how much I wanted to stay home. As the kettle boiled, my thoughts circled back to the job again—and against my better judgment, I decided to bring it up.

"I... erm... I've been thinking about applying for a new job," I said, keeping my tone casual. "It's kind of like a promotion."

"Oh." Calum perked up instantly, as if the subject change erased his missed interview. "A promotion? That's good. What job?"

For a moment, relief warmed my chest. His interest made me hopeful—like maybe we could talk properly. Like adults.

"It's personal assistant to the guy who owns AP Enterprise," I said, unable to keep the excitement out of my voice. "Alexander Pierce."

Calum was silent for a beat. Then he snorted.

"So you're going to be someone's bitch? Fetching him stuff and wiping his arse because he's too lazy?" He laughed like he'd said something clever.

My stomach twisted.

"What?" I scoffed, the heat rising instantly. "I don't know where you've got that idea from, but it's actually important. You're involved in business decisions, corporate events, and you get to oversee a department of your choice. But you wouldn't understand that, would you? You have no clue about the working world."

The calm in the room evaporated. The air turned sharp, tense—familiar.

"Will you give it a rest!" Calum snapped. "Working, working, working. That's all you ever talk about. I'm sick of it."