Page 4 of Made
Inside, my heart is breaking. Not because of Owen per se, but because of what he represents. He’s the latest in what’s becoming a long line of tools I’ve dated since I’ve been in New York. The latest in the jerk parade that is my so-called love life. Aren’t there any nice, normal guys out there who just like a girl for who she is, not who they think she could be? I’ve worked hard on loving myself, and I’m not going to let some asshole undo that.
Owen storms out of my apartment, grumbling to himself and cursing me under his breath. I close the door after him, leaning back against it and letting the adrenaline run through me. I don’t shy away from conflict, but neither do I enjoy it.
As soon as I’ve recovered enough to move, I clean up the food from the floor. Once that’s done, I let myself take a minute, one solitary minute, to feel sad about what just happened. I won’t waste more than that on him.
I fill that minute with quiet reflection and some deep breaths, allowing the hurt and regret to have their way with me. And then, I pull myself together. I take all my female power and put it on like a shield.
If Owen doesn’t like me for who I am, then that’s his loss. I am not perfect, but I know my worth. I have my demons, and they’re darker than most, but I slayed them all. I’m a nice, kind,decent person. I’m a hard worker, I’m loyal, and I’m a great friend. I also givespectacularhead. I am fine just as I am, and suggesting I need to lose weight says more about him than it does about me.
More importantly, I have a huge meeting this morning with our firm’s biggest client, and my boss has asked me to lead on their social media strategy. I don’t have time to worry about Owen and my less-than stellar-dating record. I have the job of my dreams, some great friends, a loving family—even if they are all back in Chicago—and a solid pelvic floor, thanks to all the Pilates. And that’s all a girl really needs.
That’s all this girl needs, at least.
Chapter 2
Ellie
Mason James falls into step beside me as we leave the meeting. “Everything okay, Ellie? You seem a little off your game today.”
Oh, crap. Did I just fuck up with one of our biggest clients? Did I let breaking up with that douche-bucket Owen affect me more than I thought?
I hope not. In fact, after I take a moment, I’m sure I didn’t. I was fully prepped for this meeting, and I wouldn’t let anything stop me doing a good job. I still pinch myself at how lucky I was to land this position, and I would never allow myself to get distracted and screw it up. At least I thought so.
The sheer panic I’m feeling right now must be written all over my face, because Mason flashes me one of those easy smiles that makes people so readily bend to his will. I’m not exaggerating either, I’ve seen it actually happen. The man’s charisma is off the charts.
“Relax, Ellie. You off your game would still run rings around anyone else. Perhaps I shouldn’t have said off your game actually, because you just killed it in there …”
Pride and relief—mostly relief—swell in my chest.Screw you, Owen. I don’t need you. I don’t need to change to keep a man who doesn’t value me.
“But you do seem a little … off. I say this as a friend, not as a boss. Something on your mind?”
His eyes flicker over me, and I only see concern, not judgment. Take note, dudes of Manhattan.
I smooth down my skirt and wonder what my hair is up to. I only had time for a basic blast with the dryer this morning after Owen-gate, and I’ve pinned it up in hopes of looking professional. Or maybe my buttons are fastened up wrong? A quick glance down at them confirms they are entirely as they should be. Yes, I look professional. Respectable.
We come to a stop outside his office, and now we’re standing here kind of awkwardly. Mason James is a good boss. The best boss, actually. He interviewed me for this job and saw something that made him overlook hundreds of other candidates and give me the position. He took a chance on me.
He’s cool and easy to talk to, yes, but he’s not exactly a friend, either. Usually we talk about work, what restaurants are good to eat at, and movies or exhibitions we’ve seen. Occasionally he’ll show me a cute photo of his niece or nephews, or one of him and his boyfriend, King, with their dogs. But we do not normally talk about relationships.
It might be good to get his perspective. To ask him why so many men are such prize dickwads. But I recognize that would be highly inappropriate. He’s a nice guy, but he’s still my boss.
I’m sure he’d have some answers for me, though. Rumor is he used to be quite the serial dater before he settled down with King. That he dated pretty much every eligible guy in the city. It’s hard to believe that now because the two of them are so adorable together, but maybe I should take hope from that.
One day, I’ll find my prince. If I kiss enough frogs, maybe I’ll find a man who loves me for who I am. Maybe I’ll find someone who looks at me the way those two look at each other.
Mason jerks his head in the direction of his open office door. “Coffee?”
He has a fancy coffee machine that makes the most delicious americanos I have ever tasted, so yes. Absolutely. I nod and follow him inside before he closes the door behind us.
“Cream and one sugar, right?” he asks, walking directly to the machine.
“Please,” I reply before taking a seat.
The fight with Owen this morning replays in my head again. Is he right? Should I be saying no to the sugar and cream, even if it is one of my favorite treats?
No, I tell myself. I should not—unless that’s a decision I come to myself, for my own reasons. Owen is a loser, and I’m holding out for better. For someone who wants Ellie, notEllie if she lost forty pounds, orEllie if she toned up a bit more.Just me. Exactly as I am.
“So, what is it?” Mason’s voice washes over me, as deep and rich as the coffee he’s placed down near me. I realize I’m staring out of the window, maybe have been for a minute. “Is it work?”
