“I—oh my God. Tiana.” My voice cracks. “He hired me.”
Tiana’s jaw drops, her mascara brush freezing mid-air. “Wait—what?”
I thrust my phone towards her with shaky hands. She snatches it, scans the email, and then looks back at me like I just announced I won the lottery.
“You’re startingtomorrow? At nine a.m.? Oh my God, Mya!”
I nod frantically, barely able to contain the giddy scream bubbling up in my throat. “I can’t believe this. I was sure I didn’t get it. And it’s Sunday night! He sent it from his own personal email! Who even does this?”
“Worth-freaking-Miller does this,” Tiana says, her grin splitting wide across her face. She sets my phone down and grabs my shoulders, shaking me.
“Girl, I guess we’re celebrating tonight!”
8
WORTH
“What do you mean you offered her the joblast night, Worth?”
Andrée’s voice cuts like glass. She’s the only person in this building—other than Henson and Griffin—who dares to call me by my first name, and when she does, it’s never good news.
And she’s right. I fucked up.
When I woke up this morning and realized what I’d done, I nearly launched my phone across the room.
I had been set on my decision. HR had already made the calls to the new hires, and Mya was not one of them. That should’ve been the end of it. But last night, after one too many glasses of Lagavulin, I pulled her résumé back out of my drawer.
The more I stared at it, the heavier that knot in my chest grew. Guilt. I don’t know why. I don’t know her. I don’t owe her a damn thing. But the way she spoke about her father in that interview, and how raw and unpolished her grief was when I saw her again at Willow’s—it stuck.
And the mouth on her. Most people fold when I cut them off. But Mya didn’t. She pushed back, and her sass landed low and immediate, right at my crotch. My control almost slipped.I had no business feeling that pull of arousal in the middle of a boardroom.
But underneath all that, Mya has grit that you can’t teach and could be a great asset to the team.
It made me wonder if I had made a mistake.
And then, tipsy and restless, I opened my personal email and offered her the job. Starting today.
Andrée’s eyes are practically shooting lasers at me now. “That was so reckless, Worth. You can’t just email an applicant from yourpersonalaccount, at eight o’clock on a Sunday night, telling her to report here thenext morning. Do you realize how unprofessional that looks?”
I rub my temples, my skull throbbing in agreement. “She never even responded. So either she didn’t see it, or she doesn’t want the job. It’s not a big deal, Dre.”
Her brows shoot up. “Not a big deal?” She glances at her watch. “What if she shows up in twenty-five minutes?”
I lean back in my chair, letting out a humorless laugh. “Then we have HR draft her paperwork and find her a desk.”
Andrée doesn’t laugh. She just crosses her arms, eyes narrowed. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
It takes me a second, then I get what she’s implying. I straighten in my chair. “No. There’s nothing else to share.”
Her expression doesn’t soften. “It’ll look bad on both of you if this is anything more than professional.”
I inhale slowly. “I know.” I swivel back to my computer, jaw tight. “I have work to do. Let me know if she shows.”
Dre studies me for another beat, clearly unconvinced, then shakes her head and walks out of my office.
I stare at the blank email draft on my screen, but I can’t focus. My fingers drum against the desk. The truth is, this already looks messy. And if Mya walks through those doors today…
I pull my phone out and scroll to my best friend’s name. If anyone’s going to give it to me straight, it’s Griffin. He’s the only one who knows when I’m bullshitting myself.