Stand-In Saturday (Love For Days #2) - Kirsty Moseley Page 0,99
back is the old fun-loving, daring Lucie who, at fourteen, made a deathbed promise to her nonna to always live her life to the fullest and to never be afraid to jump because what if I can fly, but I never found out because I was too scared to take the leap.
I forcefully shake my head. “You’re so wrong, Lucas. I’m not nothing without you. I’m me without you. And you know what? That’s good enough.” Saying the words out loud is empowering. This is the closure I should have been seeking, not to hurt him with jealousy, but this—me standing up for myself and knowing that he has no power over me anymore. This is everything.
And the fact that his whole body stiffens and his eye twitches? Well, that’s just the icing on the cake.
I confidently raise my chin. Now that the weight of Lucas’s domination is off my shoulders, my mind flicks to Theo. Adorable, lovely, magic-performing Theo, who likes me just the way I am—belly tops, sass, snorty laugh, no make-up, big bum, and messy hair. He likes all of it. He thinks I’m perfect—every part of me.
What am I even doing here? Why am I wasting time arguing with Lucas when I could be dancing with Theo right now? He told me he likes me, and I left him hanging. What is wrong with me?
“You should get some help, talk to a professional, fix this problem you have with control before you ruin your next relationship with your toxic traits. Goodbye, Lucas.”
I awkwardly step around him and head for the door, wincing because my ankle twinges, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of seeing me limp. As I reach for the door handle, he calls my name.
I turn, seeing his arms arrogantly crossed over his chest.
“I hold all the cards here, sweetheart. I could ruin you. One word from me, and you’ll never PA for any decent firm in London. Didn’t you ever wonder why, even with your experience, you couldn’t get another PA job?” One side of his mouth kicks up into a wicked smirk.
My back straightens at his words.
He shrugs. “So far, I’ve only thrown out a few scattered kernels of a lie whenever anyone has come to me for a reference, but if you walk out of that door now, I’ll pull in every favour I’m owed, and I’ll spread the word to every company in London that you’re an incompetent, untrustworthy, useless assistant who fucks up even the simplest of tasks. They won’t touch you with a bargepole.”
The penny drops. This is why I had trouble finding a job when I first started applying to places. So many of them, I was confident I had aced the interview and impressed them with my ideas and achievements from the last eight years. I walked out of so many job interviews, certain I had it in the bag—I even had a few winks and the telling I’ll speak to you in a couple of days phrase with my goodbye handshakes—but then a week or so later, a letter would arrive, telling me I’d been unsuccessful but wishing me luck in the future.
“You messed up my references? Why would you do that?”
“Because I wanted you to come back to work for me. I thought you’d see sense when you couldn’t find anyone to hire you, and you’d come grovelling back. You and I are meant to be, and we both know it,” he replies. His voice is calm and reasonable, as if that were a perfectly legitimate reason for messing with someone’s life.
But the thing is, I’m not even angry. I never wanted to PA in the first place. He was the one who set it up for me to work for him, likely because he wanted to keep me close, I now realise. Not being able to find another secretarial job pushed me to re-evaluate what I wanted, to take a chance (and a significant pay cut) and put myself forward for the intern programme at the publisher when Aubrey came home and told me about it. I’m working towards my dream job right now, and it seems I have Lucas to thank for it.
Lucas cocks his head to the side and takes a step towards me. The glint in his eye tells me he thinks he’s won. “Here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to go tell that arsehole that you’re sorry but you don’t ever want to see him again.