shove it up your ass if you think I'm going to—"
"Hello, Eve," Sebastian Night says, standing in my hallway with a pissy expression on his god-like face. "I see your outburst in the office isn't a one-off."
"I thought you were someone else," I say, my wine-addled brain sluggish. "What are you doing here?" I cross my arms over my chest, feeling suddenly self-conscious in my cat slippers and matching robe.
He hands me an envelope. "I was sent to give you this."
"What is it?" I ask, taking the envelope. As I do, our fingers touch, and that sense of an earthquake rocking my insides overwhelms me again, though not unpleasantly. It's just intense. Passionate. Buried passion. He flinches at the touch, so I assume he feels something, too, but isn't thrilled with it.
"It's a job offer," he says, ignoring whatever is going on between us.
"Are you serious?" I ask, completely shocked. "After that interview, why would I work for you, and why would you want me to?"
He shrugs, avoiding my eyes. "It wasn't my decision." He turns to walk away, then pauses, glancing at me over his shoulder. "But if I were you, I'd burn that paper and pretend you never heard of The Night Firm. Stick to the light like your father said."
I watch until he disappears around the corner, then close my door, locking up once again. Back on the couch, I stare at the thick cream envelope, stamped with a wax seal. How pretentious, but kinda cool, too. I break open the seal and unfold the letter. It's handwritten in calligraphy, so formal it feels like a summons from a king, not a job offer from a law firm.
The Night Firm would like to offer Miss Eve Oliver the job of Manager of Operations, to begin immediately, or as soon as Miss Oliver can avail herself of the position. It is a full time, live-in position, with generous compensation and benefits. We await your decision.
It's signed with each of the four brothers' names and signatures and stamped with an "N" matching the wax seal.
There's a second page, this one indicating a generous signing bonus, salary, benefits and spending budget for wardrobe, food, and more.
The numbers make me gasp.
I sit there in a daze, staring at the letter to make sure it's real and not something I'm imagining.
This is enough to get caught up on my payments and then some. Though I realize that since it's a live-in position, I wouldn't actually need this place anymore.
Tears burn my eyes. This job could save me from bankruptcy and homelessness.
Two years ago, if you'd told me this is what my life would look like right now, I never would have believed you.
I was happy, at the top of my career, in love with who I thought was a great man, living in a luxury apartment in the heart of New York's posh neighborhood. I had it all.
Then I lost it all the day my brother called with the news.
I didn't know it at the time. Not yet.
But certain events in life have the ability to strip you of everything so slowly you don't realize it's happening until it's too late.
Now I'm single, deeply in debt, unemployed, and as unhappy as I've ever been in my life.
I glance down at the thick parchment, shaking my head. This could solve all my problems.
I can't even believe I'm considering it. That place was insane. Even if I was only imagining parts of it.
After all, the strange things I saw did happen after my explosive headache. I've never had one that bad, but even in the past I've had moments of seeing things that aren't there. This might have felt more real, but that's likely due to the severity of the episode.
So, what's really the problem with taking the job? I reach for my wine glass but realize I never finished opening the new bottle. Damn.
The worst thing is a few of the brothers clearly don't want me there. Especially Sebastian.
So what? I climbed to the top at my last job despite men like that, not because of them. I could do it again. Would do it again.
I consider waiting until morning, but I realize this is now my new work day, if I really am going to do this. Am I really going to do this?
Apparently I am.
I dial before I change my mind. The female twin answers. "This is Eve. May I please speak with Derek?"
I decide to use his first name since