we could find some proof, we could potentially intervene with legal action, but so far, we’d turned up nothing. Through the course of the week, we’d hired ten new people, and so far, three had started without losing anyone yet. We’d had to outbid other companies several times, but we’d retained our new hires with the promise of money and perks. Worth every penny, as far as we were concerned.
Whatever this was, it wouldn’t ruin us.
But we were still in the lurch left by our diminished staff and the new employees who weren’t yet fully trained. So us Bennets had to pick up the slack. Wasted Words gave Jett and me freedom to work at Longbourne—my job could be handled remotely, and Jett’s was easily covered. So he’d thrown himself into the masses of paperwork, bookkeeping, and account management that had piled up, and I’d jumped into our halted advertising and marketing. Now that I was through with De Bourgh, I could really make some headway.
Wyatt had texted me several times since I’d seen him last, but I’d been hesitant to respond. Today, I’d ignored him completely when he let me know he was on his way back, looking to secure a time to see each other. But my life was more complicated that Saturday morning than ever, and Wyatt was only good for more chaos.
I didn’t have long until my solitude ended, but the last thing I wanted to talk about was what’d happened last night. How could I admit it aloud? How could I explain how I’d been so foolish as to give in to my desire, knowing he would only hurt me? And how would I ever forget the way it felt to be his for a moment, how the memory of his touch still kissed my flesh, the press of an aching bruise? How would I ever deny how absolutely right he felt before he erased me completely?
It was impossible. But Jett was about to walk through the door, and there would be no avoiding some level of admission. He’d been at Wasted Words for a hero-villain mixer when I got home, and when he came home, I made sure to appear asleep in my room. This morning, I’d gotten out of bed with the sun and left before he was awake. But I’d avoided telling him for as long as I could. It’d been hard enough keeping it from Jett this long. He was the human equivalent of my diary, but when it came to the matter of Darcy, I couldn’t seem to tell him everything. Not the complete truth of it. Not the fact that part of me wanted Liam. Or that so much of my fury was because I wanted him to want me too, even though he found new and painful ways to cut me over and again. Worse—I’d kept going back for more.
But last night was the final straw.
I was through being hurt by him. Murderous rage was exhausting, and I was officially tapped.
And that was where half my mind was as I worked on scheduling social media posts and checking our social ads, updating my calendar to set meetings with our larger advertising contacts and to gather a team to create some fresh content. A new campaign brewed in the back of my mind, and I let it roll around there like churning ice cream, making itself into something delicious. Next week, once it solidified, I’d get a schedule together for it, see if I could plan out a few months of marketing with a fresh look. That way, when we had a team in place again, I could just pass it off to them and get back to my life.
With a gentle nudging of my heart, it occurred to me that being here, working for Longbourne, felt good. As much as I loved the bookstore, I knew my family business better than anyone who had touched their marketing since I’d left. This was where I felt at home, where work felt easy. Where I could use all that I’d learned for the sake of my family. It was the joining of my two worlds, and I wondered why I’d never truly considered it before.
But at the beginnings of imagining, I shook the thought away. At the thought of flipping my life in the direction I’d avoided for so long had me slamming the shutters closed so I couldn’t look out upon that possibility. Not now, at least.
Not yet.
I was