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vibrating. “Look, he’s done
me a solid and called me instead.”
    “He loves you. Of course he’s going to
call you.”
    As she disappeared from the bathroom, I
heard her mutter, “I swear, I’m tempted to get into his phone and—” She cleared
her throat and then said in an annoyed voice, “Hello to you too, Linc.”
    As straight-laced as Linc Connelly was—he
was in law enforcement, which didn’t mesh with some of Pen’s previous
extracurricular activities—it was obvious how much she adored him.
    Hell, I loved him.
    I’d met Linc a few weeks before I turned
eighteen, when he responded to a complaint from my landlord. He must have felt
sorry for me—a skinny, terrified girl living alone in Vegas and a blink away
from getting evicted—because two days later an anonymous donor had brought
my rent current. A day after that, he and his sister had shown up to my
apartment with groceries.
    No matter how uptight Linc could be, he
never expected anything from me in return and had brought Pen into my
life. That alone made him a bit of a superhero in my book. He and Pen were the
closest to siblings I’d ever had.
    As if on cue, she called out to me, “I
hope you’re opening that envelope!” Then, I heard her snap, “Are you kidding,
Linc?”
    Closing the door with my foot to drown
out the noise, I swiped the Emerson & Taylor envelope from the counter and
sat on the vanity stool a few feet away. “Let’s see what they want now,” I
whispered, tearing open the envelope and shaking out its contents. A crisp
white business envelope fell into my hand.
    Rubbing my fingers over both sides of the
second packet, I realized I definitely wasn’t holding a copy of the paperwork
I’d given to HR. It was too thin. Frowning, I flipped it over and started to
open it, but then I froze. The first thing I noticed was that it was a Manning
Hotel Group envelope. Then, I took in the familiar, chest-tightening words
written across it in bold black strokes.
     
    I fix what I break  
     
    Those were Oliver’s words.
    My fingers trembled as I ripped into the
white envelope, a plastic card falling to the ground and landing by my bare
foot. Inside, I found a neatly folded note. It took real effort not to tear it
into tiny shreds and deposit it into the toilet, but I opened it carefully to
find that it was written on letterhead from Oliver’s personal stash. Dropping
it on the granite, I scanned the note quickly, feeling my temperature spike
with every word.
     
    Lizzie,
    You didn’t mention you wouldn’t be in the
office for three days, so I had no other choice but to reach out to you like
this. Please accept the enclosed gift card as compensation for your phone. I’m
sure you can find use for it, as I won’t take it back.
    By the way, you also didn’t mention you
worked directly for my mother. Not that it’ll matter.
    Best,
    Oliver J. Manning
    Executive Vice President, Manning Hotel
Group
     
    Oliver.
    Fucking Oliver.
    Looking down at the tan ceramic tile
floor, I saw a gold American Express logo staring back at me. I’d purposely
replaced my phone on my own so I wouldn’t feel indebted to that man, but he
couldn’t leave well enough alone. “A rich boy with a misunderstanding of the
word no ?  Lovely.”
    I quickly reread the note again, pausing
on the last line.
    “Not that it’ll matter?” I gritted my teeth.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Instead of pondering it, I
focused on a more pressing question. What had Oliver done to weasel his way
back into Dora’s good HR graces so quickly for her just to hand over my
personal information to him? The thought of him having access to anything about
me—even if my life here was all a façade—made my stomach pitch. 
    Grabbing my phone, I blocked my number
and dialed the office number listed beneath his personal letterhead. A few
seconds later, I released a sharp curse when an automated voice informed me, “ We're
sorry; the party you have reached is not