SADIE
I lift my gaze to Trey, my mouth slightly parted. Then back to the box. Then him again.
From the way he casually pushed the phone to my side, I’m almost convinced it isn’t real.
A dummy box. That has to be it.
Except I’m staring right at it, and the thing is brand new. Still sealed. There’s only so long I can continue entertaining my own delusions before they become embarrassing.
Maybe there’s something about employment I’ve misunderstood all these years.
"Sorry." I point at it. "Did you say my new phone?"
"Yeah."
He goes back to typing on his laptop and I gulp, trying to pull myself together.
It’s not like women don’t get expensive gifts. Somewhere in the world, some woman has probably been gifted a skyscraper for waking up pretty. Vivian got one in the last novel I read, although she was married to a billionaire, so maybe that doesn’t count.
This is different.
I believe in earning things. You work, you get paid. You do something exceptionally well, maybe you get rewarded for it. There’s an order to these things that makes sense to me.
I haven’t even started working.
We just picked my tutoring days five minutes ago, and somehow there’s already a brand-new phone sitting beside my employment letter like a signing bonus.
"Um." I poke his arm gently until I have at least some of his attention. "Why exactly do I have a new phone? I’m very grateful, but if this is for the research stuff, I already have a laptop. A perfectly functional one, actually."
He doesn’t look up from his screen. "Your old phone is an eyesore. I don’t like cheap things around me."
"Oh."
That’s all that comes out.
There are several things I could say in defense of my phone. It works perfectly fine. The cracks barely interfere with anything important, and the battery only requires strategic planning on particularly long days.
But I’m also fairly good at reading a room, and this particular room is telling me to shut up and accept the expensive phone.
"Thank you very much."
"Don’t thank me." His fingers keep moving over the keyboard. "Just don’t break this one. Transfer your stuff and throw the other thing away."
Authoritative much? Then again, I suppose a Mercer earns the right to boss you around a little after buying you a whole phone.
The thought makes something almost funny click into place. One Mercer stole something from me this morning. The other is sitting here giving me things.
Did I pick the wrong brother three years ago?
"Now that you have your employment letter, you start today."
Well. That thought can go back wherever it came from.
"Today?"
"I have a paper due in two days."
"Yes. Yes, okay." I nod, still a little distracted by the shiny box in front of me. "I’ll help."
My eyes fall back to the phone, and I can’t stop the smile that pulls at my mouth. Whatever Trey’s reasons are, it’s mine. A brand-new phone that doesn’t need to be smacked against my palm every other morning to remember its purpose in life.
I admire it for another few seconds before reaching for the envelope beside it.
"Finally."
The envelope goes straight to my chest as a long breath leaves me, because as wonderful as a new phone is, this is the thing I’ve actually been waiting for.
Having a job again is already worth celebrating, but even better, there’s now official proof that I work for an Alpha’s son. Surely that has to be enough to get my injections sorted out. If Trey Mercer’s name on a piece of paper can’t convince them, I might as well drag the actual man down there and present him as evidence.
Still grinning, I nudge Trey’s arm with the envelope. "You know what? Bring me all your papers. Every single one. I’ll help you with them. Bring them to—"
You’ll have one week to submit a new project.
Something in my head screeches to a stop.
My smile freezes.
What the fuck?
How did I forget?
I have a project. Not even a project. I have an entire month’s worth of work to rebuild from scratch in seven days.
My stomach sinks.
Between classes, Quiz Bowl and tutoring Trey, there aren’t enough hours left in the week unless I sacrifice something important. Sleep is probably first to go. Food could follow. My remaining sanity has been hanging by a thread anyway.
"Um..." I lower the envelope and turn to Trey, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. "Do you think I could fully, fully start this job next week?"
The second fully, fully leaves my mouth, I grimace. The look Trey gives me makes me wish I could pull the words back in and try again.
"Something came up," I add quickly. "And thanks to someone, I have a project that was supposed to take about a month, but now I have to do the whole thing in one week."
His gaze sharpens. "Someone?"
I bite the inside of my lip. I probably could’ve left that part out.
"Ezra," I mumble.
For a moment, Trey says nothing. The slight tick in his jaw is the only indication that the name means anything to him at all.
Then he scoffs, leans back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest, turning fully toward me for the first time since we started talking.
Oh, great. I know a scolding stance when I see one.
I instinctively lean away. "It’s compli—"
"Let me get this straight. You want to put my work aside because of Ezra?"
"I—no. It’s not because of—"
"Then what is it?" His brow lifts. "Are you that desperate to get him back, or are you an idiot?"
I stare at him.
Did he just—
"What did you just call me?"
Trey doesn’t so much as blink. "I called you an idiot. Keep chasing your ex and I’ll keep calling you one. You start work today. Whatever deal you have with Ezra comes after me."
He leans toward me, his green eyes narrowing. There’s so much anger in them. So much irritation.
"I don’t like sharing my time or anything else with anyone," he warns. "And if you can’t understand that, you’re fired, Sadie."
He barely ever calls me by my name, and this time it sounds like a warning.
There’s no disguising what he means either. Trey Mercer is telling me that for a hundred dollars an hour, he’s bought my time, and somehow, standing beneath that glare, it feels like the purchase extends much further than that. My attention. My choices. My fucking soul if he asks for it. Every piece of me apparently came tucked inside that employment letter, neatly priced and handed over before I even realized I was selling anything.
The fear of losing this job sinks its claws into my stomach, so sudden and cold that the brand-new phone sitting inches from my hand feels like it came from a completely different man. There are dozens of people around us, but none of them make me feel any safer while Trey stares at me.
All because I said Ezra’s name.
I swallow, suddenly very aware of how close he still is.
"I’m not trying to win Ezra back," I say quietly. "I’d rather chew off one of my own fingers. He stole my project, and I blanked out when I should’ve defended myself, so Professor Hart gave me a week to start over. That’s why I asked to start next week. Not because I’m..." I gesture vaguely between us. "Trying to win your brother back."
His eyes hold mine, studying me with enough focus that I have to resist the urge to look away. Whatever he finds seems to satisfy him because he leans back, putting some much-needed space between us.
I exhale, some of the tightness beneath my ribs easing with the distance.
"Sounds like something Ezra would do." He gives me a long look. "But blanking out while he steals your work? Next time, open your mouth and prove you’re not an idiot."
And there it is. Concern, dragged through several miles of condescension until it becomes almost impossible to recognize.
"I’m twenty-one, Trey." I straighten a little in my chair. "I can handle myself."
"That’s what twenty-one-year-olds who can’t handle themselves say."
My brows pull together. "That doesn’t even—"
He rises, towering over me as he pushes his chair back. "Care for some snacks?"
I gape at him. Did we not just have an entire argument? Or has he moved on already? From terrifying me, to insulting my intelligence, to offering me snacks in the span of a few minutes?
"Anything is fine," I say, still watching him carefully because surely there’s more coming. Another insult, another order, maybe even a return to the conversation he just abandoned halfway through.
There isn’t.
Trey turns and walks away without another word.
I watch him go, then lower my eyes to the new phone sitting beside my employment letter.
They made me so happy a few minutes ago.
Now, looking at them leaves a strange ache in my chest, because I don’t know what to make of kindness from someone who can frighten me just as easily as he can make me smile.