Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 344(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“There’s something I wanted to discuss with you,” I begin.
He inclines his head. “Go on.”
“I’ve been offered a job in Los Angeles,” I say. “It’s with a fashion house—communications and strategic partnerships. Crisis management, brand narrative, talent relations. It allows me to return to fashion, which is where my background is, but also leverage everything I’ve learned here. Media strategy. High-pressure environments. Managing personalities under scrutiny.”
“I’m not surprised,” he says neutrally, expression remaining placid.
I focus on the tone of my voice, even though it comes out a little high-pitched, as if I’m trying to cheerlead my decision. “It’s an opportunity that aligns with where I ultimately want to be.”
Julian says nothing, his expression unreadable, giving nothing away.
His silence is knocking my confidence, but I press on. “I want you to know how grateful I am for what you gave me here. When I came to the Vipers, I had nowhere to go. I needed a second chance, and you gave me one.”
He watches me closely now.
“This role allowed me to grow in ways I didn’t expect,” I continue. “Professionally and personally. I learned how to navigate pressure at a level I’d never experienced before. I learned restraint. Strategy. I won’t ever forget that.” I take a breath, the hardest part still ahead. “But I need to take this role in Los Angeles.”
It feels like I’m asking permission. Do I owe him more than gratitude?
“Is this your two weeks’ notice?” he asks, tone as pleasant as if we were discussing a brunch menu.
“Actually,” I drawl as I fidget slightly in my chair. “I was hoping I could make this effective immediately. I’ll of course stay the two weeks if you need me, but frankly, Grizz is doing so well—”
“Didn’t look like he was doing all that well last week when he broke his stick after that postgame interview,” he interjects.
“Yes, but that was a one-off. I promise. And besides, it’s not like I’m the one who was keeping him in check these last several weeks. He learned how to do that all on his own. You’d probably be wasting money replacing me.”
Julian doesn’t respond right away. Instead, he leans back farther, gaze drifting briefly to the window behind me.
“When I was in my late twenties,” he says at last, “I was working for a firm in London. It was a very prestigious company. That type of stable, steady career you can depend on day in and day out for your entire life. And yes, it was run by my mother’s family, so that played a role.”
I blink, surprised by the turn. I’m not sure where he’s going with this.
“I had mentors. Security. A clear path upward,” he continues. “And then I was offered a position elsewhere. Different industry. Different country. Much higher risk.”
He looks back at me now.
“Everyone I trusted told me it was a mistake. That I was abandoning a sure thing. That I owed loyalty to the people who had invested in me.”
I stay silent, listening.
“But the truth,” he says, voice calm, “was that I had outgrown the place I was in. Staying would have been comfortable. Leaving was necessary for me to grow personally.”
Understanding blooms slowly in my chest.
“I took the job,” he continues. “And it set the course for everything that came after.” He gestures with his hands. This kingdom he’s built, a result of the risks he took and the reward he reaped in doing so.
He studies me for a long moment, his expression more friendly.
“You don’t owe me your future, Daisy,” he says. “You did good work here. That’s the only currency that matters.”
Relief hits so hard I almost feel dizzy.
“You should be true to yourself,” he adds. “That’s the only way any of this is sustainable.”
I nod, throat tight.
“And if you ever need a recommendation,” Julian continues, a faint smile breaking through, “you have my full support. I’d be happy to provide one.”
“Thank you,” I say, meaning more than just the words.
“May I ask you something?” he says.
I still. “Of course.”
He studies me for a moment, not unkindly. Curious. Thoughtful. “Are you sure this new role in Los Angeles is the only reason you’re leaving?”
The question catches me off guard. “What do you mean?”
A small, knowing smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You and Grizz were the poorest-kept secret in the league,” he says evenly. “I’m curious what he thinks about this move.”
Heat rushes up my neck. For a moment, I consider deflecting—keeping this clean and professional—but his tone disarms me. He’s not fishing. He’s acknowledging reality.
I take a breath. “We’re… not together anymore,” I say carefully. “It didn’t work out.”
He doesn’t press. Doesn’t ask for details.
“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says, sincerely. “I know that couldn’t have been easy.”
“It wasn’t,” I admit. That’s all I give him.
He nods once, absorbing it. “Then I’m especially glad you’re choosing what’s best for you,” he says. “Transitions tend to stack. It helps to face them with clarity.”