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Since my first run in with Marcus, I knew he was going to be a problem. I thought Mark was a nuisance? His son is just like him, except younger and with a lot more stamina to be a pain in my ass. Marcus is like Mark if he shotgunned a pack of Red Bulls every morning.

The reporters, along with Marcus, have not let up their hunt for the latest comments on the scandal with the Attorney General. One of them- and I have a pretty good idea who- got word from an inside source that Vince came to the office one day to meet with me. Since that piece of information got out, the rumors have only spiraled. I even read one magazine that claimed Vince was having an affair with me.

Harry ripped it from my hands after I read that part out loud.

"Violet, what did that stapler ever do to you?" Phoebe asks hesitantly as I slam my hand down on the cold metal repeatedly.

"I'm sorry." I groan and hold my papers up to look at the hole I managed to rip in the corner. I crumple them up and toss them in the bin next to my desk, scribbling a note for myself to make more copies.

"Violet, look at me." Phoebe says softly, making me snap my head up. She leans forward in the chair on the other side of my desk. "What's going on with you?"

I throw the papers and pen in my hands on the desk and lean back against my seat. "I'm frustrated."

"Clearly." She raises an eyebrow at me when I level my stare at her, but doesn't back down. "Give me more, before I come across this desk and smack it out of you."

"Everything feels so..." I pause, exhaling a harsh breath through my lips, "different."

"Violet." Phoebe snaps when I don't elaborate further. "I swear to god-"

"Ever since we got back from visiting home," I cut her off and she looks at me expectantly, "all we've been doing is working, arguing and sleeping just to wake up and do it all over again. Nothing is getting resolved. It feels like we just keep digging ourselves into this hole that we can't get out of."

"What are you fighting about?" She asks casually, and the question catches me off guard for some reason.

"The relentless flock of reporters outside and my inability to keep my nose out of the magazine articles they publish about me." I admit with a heavy sigh. "And we're disagreeing on the direction to go with the new build going up on the east side. And after our little run in with Marcus in the park, Harry's been even more neurotic and doesn't let me out of his sight. I'm going fucking crazy, Pheebs."
She smiles at me softly and I cross my arms over my chest at the smug look on her face. "What?"

"There haven't been any fights about your relationship and where it stands?" She asks knowingly. I drop my arms and tilt my head to the side, thinking.

"No."

"That's so fucking good, Violet!" She says happily and I gape at her.

"Did you not hear anything I just said?" I ask dumbfounded. "We barely see each other and when we do, we argue, fuck, or sleep. That doesn't really seem like a stable relationship to me."

"Violet, be fucking serious." She rolls her eyes at me and my brows shoot up my forehead in surprise at her tone. "It's been a few weeks since you got back, right?"
I nod my head, wondering where she's going with this.
"I assume the last argument about your relationship was on that trip, and before that, the two of you were going at it every other day, constantly fighting about where you stood. Correct?"

"You better have a real solid point, Anderson." I warn. The use of her last name causes her to pause, and I smirk knowing it would irritate her a little.

Even If It Hurts -H.S. AUWhere stories live. Discover now