Chapter 3

The next day, I got an email from Quinn Corp. They'd canceled my final interview qualification.

The reason sounded so polished. [Candidate has a conflict of interest with an internal project, so she's not a good fit right now.]

I stared at "not a good fit right now" for a long time. After that, I started looking into other interviews.

The two companies I had lined up for final interviews both dropped me on the same day.

The HR manager at the third company was a senior from my college.

She sent me a voice message in private. "Claire, did you piss someone off? The boss was really impressed with you, but someone put in a word. They said you're not a good fit for any core roles right now."

I sat on a bench by the roadside, my fingers stiff and numb from the cold.

Turns out Lucas never intended to let me win. And he'd made sure I had no other way out either.

I went to Quinn Corp, but the receptionist wouldn't let me through.

Not long after, Evelyn stepped out of the elevator, like she'd been expecting me all along. "Looking for Lucas? He's in a meeting."

I stared her down. "How much of my proposal did you actually take?"

Evelyn smiled. "Ms. Linwood, you better have evidence for what you're saying. Anything you submitted for the Quinn interview belongs to Quinn Corp. We can evaluate them however they want.

"Besides, who's really going to believe a woman who's some guy's plaything?"

I clenched my palms. "I did every bit of it."

She stepped in closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "So what? You had the brains to write it, that's your talent. I had the power to use it, that's mine."

The elevator doors slid open, and Lucas stepped out. A few executives trailed behind him.

When he saw me, his brows knitted together. "Claire, don't stir up trouble here."

I looked up at him. "Me? Stirring up trouble?

"Lucas, you let her take credit for my proposal and then canceled my interview. Who's really causing the drama here?"

Lucas glanced around at the employees nearby, then lowered his voice. "Come with me."

Evelyn stood beside him and added slowly, "Mr. Quinn, the Southside Senior Living Project is having its roadshow next week.

"I'm counting on this project to make my position permanent, and I don't want to see her around here again."

Lucas didn't argue back right away. He met my eyes. "Claire, go home."

In that instant, it all clicked for me.

He wasn't clueless. He stood by and let it happen.

He stood by while Evelyn took the spotlight. He stood by as I got thrown out, and all my hard work became nothing more than a line on someone else's resume.

I let out a laugh. "Lucas, you really disgust me."

His face darkened. "Claire, watch your mouth."

I turned and walked away, and Evelyn's light voice floated behind me. "She's got some fire in her. No wonder you kept her under wraps."

Lucas did not catch up.

That afternoon, Lucas sent me an offer letter. It was for Quinn Media. Administrative Manager, with a monthly salary of 7,000 dollars.

There was a note attached: [Stop making things difficult for yourself. This suits you better.]

I stared at those words: [This suits you better.]

He lied, gave up, and then decided what he thought was a decent way out for me.

When Lucas came home that night, I was sitting at the dining table.

The lease for our apartment lay on the table, and the rent was due tomorrow.

He glanced at it, his voice gentle. "Are you still mad at me? Don't be upset. I've already arranged a job for you. You start next week."

I looked up at him. "Are we still renewing the lease?"

He paused. "Of course we are. We're doing fine here, aren't we?"

I looked around the room. The floor lamp in the corner was one I'd picked out myself, and the fridge was covered in recipes we'd written together.

On the windowsill sat a pothos plant, the one he gave me last year for Valentine's Day. He said he couldn't afford flowers, so he got me something that would last.

I hugged that pothos plant and was happy for ages.

Now I finally get it. Turns out, it wasn't the scrappy romance of someone struggling. It was a rich guy's shortcut.

I spoke softly, "Lucas, I'm not renewing."