25

I’ve been hit by the same haze that took over me when Aspen told me that my “wife” brought cupcakes and was talking with the three fuckers. Logical thoughts were the last thing on my mind when I barged in there. I knew she didn’t like it when I refused the internship, but I didn’t think she’d show up and negotiate her way into one. Behind my back. I’m well aware of her half-jogging behind me as I march to my office, but I don’t look at her. I’m charged up enough as it is without being distracted by the sight of her. If I had enough decency, I would slow down and let her catch up, but that term doesn’t fucking exist in my dictionary. As soon as we’re inside, I shut the door, lean against it, and face her. Gwyneth stands in the middle of the office, catching her breath. But then she glares at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “I don’t want to intern with you.” “Good thing you don’t have a say in it.” “But you said no the other time. What made you change your mind?” Her going to so