Chapter 13

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     It takes everything for Skylar not to turn her hot red car around and tase that "motherfucker", her words, not mine, after I tell her what happened. At first, she gives my entire body a once over, searching for any wounds. 

     "What happened to your hand?" She asks, dark eyes swelling with tears. 

     "I punched him." I mutter, slightly embarrassed by my action. 

     "Good. The bastard deserved it." Now, she's angry. The entire ride to urgent care, she's coming up with all the ways we can get Mr. Fitzpatrick back, most of them consisting of creative ways to murder him. A part of me worries that maybe I exaggerated the entire thing. Could my reaction have been rash? The second Skylar reacted, I felt at ease. My reaction was valid. 

     As I listen to Skylar rant, threatening to burn his entire building down, I realize that i've made a friend for life. There is no one like Skylar Jamille. She is a one of a kind gem that I never want to lose. After all my years in Georgia, I can say for a fact, that i've never had a friend like her. In such a short amount of time, she has gone from a stranger to a sister. And even if my internship doesn't work out, I know coming to Seattle was the best choice i've ever made. 


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     The next day, I'm wary for the work day ahead. After my personal meeting with Mr. Fitzpatrick, should I expect I will walk in, only to walk back out, my belongings in hand? However, I decide to face my demons. Better to face the reality than to live in a fantasy.  My fractured thumb and it's splint are resting lazily at my side as I head inside the building. Upstairs, I have a look of determination across my features, or so I hope. I'm wearing black dress pants and a dark blue blouse, blonde hair thrown into a bun besides the loose strands that tickle my cheeks. 

     The second my eyes find the tall Mr. Berkshire, my bravery fades away as quickly as paint on a canvas under a rain storm. The look of determination in those warm eyes as he marches towards me, sends shivers down my spine. Yup, I messed up. Before I get the chance to plead my case, he's talking. 

     "Mr. Fitzpatrick wants another meeting. Probably wants to change his fucking photo on the sleeve again." He said with a shake of his head, using the palm of his hand on my lower back to lead me back towards the elevator. "He's lucky he's one of our most important authors." As expected with his frustration, he rolls his neck.

     "Mr. Berkshire." I say, ready to tell him what he should expect during this meeting. Yet again, i'm interrupted. 

     "What happened to your hand?" I follow his gaze to my hand. I inhale a big breath, hoping that I will find courage. 

     "I-" The elevator doors suddenly open, revealing the meeting room. Immediately, a disheveled Mr. Fitzpatrick is across the room, shoving his finger in my direction. 

     "I want her fired!" He screams. Now that he's closer, I see his swollen eye surrounded by vibrant purple and blue bruises. I bite my bottom lip as I look between the wild man and Mr. Berkshire. There's a hint of confusion in his eyes, but it isn't long before it's replaced with recognition.  His eyes dance between my hand and Mr. Fitzpatrick's face a couple of times before he steps to the side. 

     "We're letting you go." He states in an authoritative tone. 

     Those are the last words I want to hear from him. I'll never regret this experience, but I wish it could have lasted. There are plenty of things that could have gone wrong. I never expected not getting along with one of the authors would be a problem. I want to turn and run faster than I ever have, but Mr. Berkshire deserves an apology. Finally, I look up, expecting to find his cold gaze on me. However, i'm thoroughly shocked to find that his glare is not on me, but instead on the author, who has his jaw hanging low. 

     "Excuse me?" His manager speaks up, glaring daggers at Mr. Berkshire. 

     "You heard me. We're letting Mr. Fitzpatrick go." The two are beyond shocked. I can only imagine the shock displayed across my own face. 

     "But, you can't-" Mr. Fitzpatrick speaks up, but is silenced by Mr. Berkshire's hand lifting in the air to stop him. 

     "Would you like security to escort you out?"

     "You'll be hearing from his lawyer." The red headed woman says before shoving between Mr. Berkshire and I, making a beeline for the elevator with Mr. Fitzpatrick stamping angrily behind. 

     "Roman-" My mouth is dry and words are impossible to find. 

     "Don't tell me what happened." I don't know if I would feel better if he looked at me or worse, but I know that he's avoiding my gaze and it's slowly killing me inside. Mr. Fitzpatrick was there biggest author, the company's money maker, and now he just left because of me. 

     "But-" He shakes his head, completely silencing me. 

     "Don't. I'll kill him." He hisses harshly. By the tick in his jaw and the harshness in his eyes, I know he's not joking. I want to believe these are words he's spilling out in anger, but I know in my gut that he's capable of such things. 

     I gulp, my throat suddenly feeling dry. His eyes search mine, a million words passing through them. I return the look, sharing many unsaid words. If only we spoke the same language. 

     "Time to get back to work, Ms. Calloway." He says, interrupting the silence and returning to the elevator with me beside him. 









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