Page 92 of The Snowflake Effect

She nods. “I’ve been onto her schemes for a while. I was about to let her go when Ramiro quit, but I couldn’t afford to be down two designers. As of this morning, Maeve and her god-awful accent are free to sabotage someone else’s firm.”

Tipsy Hilary is fun.

I raise my glass of wine. “Well then, here’s to fresh starts and conquering the Toronto design scene together.”

She smirks. “I’ll drink to that. We also have a new client in the wings, who you’ll love. You know Clutch Sucker?”

“The retro-style purse company taking the accessory world by storm?”

“The one and only. They heard about the work you did for Moondog and want a piece of you. Which means they want a piece of us.”

“Oh my God” is all I can manage.

Hilary laughs, clinks her glass against mine, then saunters into the crowd. I can’t wipe the silly grin off my face.

CHAPTER 40

SHAY

An hour and another glass of wine later, there’s no sign of Kolton, and I’m lit up like a Christmas tree.

When a waiter passes with a tray of chocolate truffles, I pop one into my mouth. (My fifth, but who’s counting?) I slide my tongue over my gums, savoring the decadence, but fingers grip my arm. Kolton.

“You and I need to talk outside,” he says.

He doesn’t wait for me to answer or look at me. I almost have to run in my heels to keep pace with his aggressive strides as we dodge bodies.

The music pumps, people busting a move on the small dance floor. A few drinks, and everyone loosens up. Everyone except Kolton, apparently.

He pushes out the side emergency exit into a dark alley. An overflowing garbage bin farther down alerts the alcohol in my system it might need to evacuate. Up my throat.

Breathing through my mouth, I give him my best glare. “What’s so important that you needed to rush out of the event?”

“You accepted the job,” he says, flat.

Crap. Hilary. She must have mentioned something to him. I’m so stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Alcohol is not my friend. “I’m sorry, I just…I should have told you first, but with the excitement of the event and the drinks…” I press the palm of my hand to his chest. “I wanted to wait to tell you until we were alone, so we could celebrate.”

He stares at my hand over his heart, then his eyes flick up, dark with accusation. “How could you accept a job and tell her without even talking to me? And what do you mean celebrate? How is this a good thing for us?”

The scents of rotting food dissipate, a sudden breeze blowing them the opposite way, but my nausea persists. Kolton scrubs his face, blinking at me like I’m a stranger.

I hug my arms around my waist. “Because I want the job, Kolton. Like, really want it. But I want us to be together, too. It’ll only be for a year or so to build my résumé and gain more experience from Hilary. I’ll walk away with a portfolio that will guarantee me a good position in Vancouver, and then I’ll move there. We can make this work.” He scowls, and I press on, “I don’t know exactly what happened with Marina, but whatever it was obviously didn’t ruin your relationship. You two got married, had Jackson. And this isn’t four years of university. It’s just a year or so. We can totally do this.”

He swallows once, twice. Tilts his head back and jabs his toe into the pavement—an internal battle raging. Then he looks at me with haunted eyes. “Marina cheated on me, Shay. So, yes, it did change things between us.”

I pull back, shocked. “I don’t understand.”

“We were having a rough go of it,” he goes on, his voice tight. “Fighting, pissing each other off. The longer we were apart, the worse the tension got. Then one day, I said some mean shit. Unspeakable insults. So she got drunk at a party and slept with some dude to get back at me.”

“God, Kolton. I’m so sorry.”

He holds up a hand, clearly needing to purge more. “Please, don’t be sorry. Her betrayal was as much my fault as it was hers, and yes, we eventually moved past it, but it always hung over us in an abstract way. So when I say long distance isn’t an option, it’s not an off-the-cuff statement. I’ve seen how badly it can go. And I have Jackson to think about now. Already, he talks about you when you’re not around, which is fine. He understands dating isn’t always long term, but the more time we spend together, the more attached he’ll get. If we fall apart down the road, what then?”

Tears gather—sympathy and anger mixing into a salty cocktail that burns my throat. “I’m sorry about Marina, but I’m not her. I would never cheat on you.”

“Marina would’ve said the same thing,” he says, the anger bleeding out of his tone. He sounds resigned now. Detached, almost. Totally unlike the man I’ve come to know. “And it wasn’t just the cheating. It was how we changed while apart. The resentment. I can’t risk it,” he finishes.

“So…what? This is an ultimatum? I quit my job and move now, or we’re done?” My saliva sours. Nothing about this argument feels rational. This isn’t the Kolton who wooed me with PEZ and videos and candy bouquets. This is a stranger.