Chapter 30
Chapter 30:
Gaston didn’t pull away immediately. He lingered for a second, his chin almost resting on her head.
“You need to fire the CFO,” he murmured. “Tomorrow p>
“Right,” she breathed.
He finally straightened. The loss of his warmth was sudden and cold.
“Get some sleep,” he said. “You have a war to fight in the morning. Oh, and — I have an early board meeting. Seven AM. I might need help with a tie. My right hand is still stiff from —” He flexed his fingers. “Hitting things p>
Jocelyn looked at his knuckles. They were slightly bruised from the night before.
“Okay,” she said softly.
The next morning, the dressing room was filled with the soft light of dawn.
Gaston stood in front of the full-length mirror in a crisp white shirt and dark trousers, a deep blue silk tie held loosely in his hand.
“Which knot?” Jocelyn asked, stepping in front of him.
𝘔o𝗋𝖾 𝘯о𝘃еl𝘴 о𝗻.с𝗼𝗆
“Windsor,” he said. “Full p>
She took the tie. She had to rise onto her tiptoes. She flipped the collar up, her fingers grazing the warm skin of his neck. He stood perfectly still, watching her reflection in the mirror.
She looped the silk, her movements practiced. She used to do this for Kieran every morning. Kieran would usually be on his phone, not even glancing at her.
Gaston wasn’t ignoring her. He was watching her hands.
“You’re good at this,” he said quietly.
“I had a lot of practice,” Jocelyn said, her voice turning bitter. “Being an assistant p>
“You’re not an assistant anymore,” Gaston said.
She tightened the knot and slid it up to his collar button, then smoothed the silk flat against his chest.
“There,” she said, stepping back. “Perfect p>
Gaston checked the mirror and adjusted the dimple of the knot.
“Thank you, Mrs. Collins p>
He left for the office, leaving Jocelyn alone with her own battles.
She spent the morning sending out résumés. She had the hotel shares, yes, but she wanted her own career — something she had built herself, not inherited. She applied to three top architecture firms and two boutique design agencies.
By noon, the rejections had started rolling in.
Ding. “Thank you for your interest, but we are not hiring at this time p>
Ding. “We have decided to move forward with other candidates p>
Ding. “Thank you for your application. Unfortunately, after an initial review, we’ve received an internal flag regarding your profile and will not be proceeding p>
Jocelyn stared at her phone. Five rejections in two hours — even for junior positions she was overqualified for.
Her phone rang. The caller ID read Bella Douglas — Kieran’s cousin, and the only person among the Douglases with anything resembling a conscience.
Jocelyn hesitated, then answered.
“What do you want, Bella p>
“I heard you’re on the market,” Bella’s voice was syrupy sweet. “Rough morning p>
“How do you know?” Jocelyn gripped the phone.
“Kieran is very proactive,” Bella said. “He made a few calls. You know how small the industry is. Anyone who hires you loses the Douglas Tech contract p>
The blood drained from Jocelyn’s face. A blacklist.