Page 145 of Face Off With Fate

“What if I screw up again?” My voice was small.

His mouth curved.

“Oh, you will.”

I whacked his shoulder. “Monroe, I’m serious, what if I panic and do something impulsive⁠—”

“I’m chasing after you, Trouble.” His thumb swept across my cheekbone. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy. Besides, I’ll probably be the one to fuck up. I’m a man, after all.”

A laugh cracked out of me, wet and broken.

“You’re right. What was I thinking?”

He kissed the top of my head.

“I love you, Graciella Xochitl Barrera.”

Everything in me went still, filling with so much joy I thought my chest might burst.

“I love you, too, Josh M⁠—”

“Are you done being sad yet?” Goldie’s yell floated down the hall. “I want to go get a drink, like ice cream.”

Monroe laughed against my forehead. “Stay with me? With us?” he asked, the words coated in vulnerability.

I lifted my eyes to his. The corners of my mouth pulled up.

I knew in my heart there was only one answer.

“You gonna beg for it, Joshua?”

He dropped to his knees without an ounce of hesitation, hands gripping my hips. My cheeks heated. I’d been joking, but the sincerity in his face had my heart stuttering.

“Until my very last breath, Trouble.”

FORTY-EIGHT

GRACIELLA

KINDA WANNA GIVE TOMMY A STORY WITH LIKE A KNOCK OUT WHO LOVES NERDY GUYS. CAN YOU IMAGINE A “GLASSES STAY ON” MOMENT?!?!

It felt like it’d been a lifetime since I’d been in Tommy’s office.

The large glass desk stood in the middle, tidy like last time. The faint scent of coffee lingered in the air.

I folded my hands in my lap, keeping my face neutral. Or trying.

Tommy leaned forward, elbows landing on the clear surface. He always had a cheerful smile, which made him hard to read. Was he happy to see me? Or was he trying to lessen the blow?

He’d texted me: Come in when you get a chance, Graciella.

Which also didn’t do a damn thing to tell me what was about to happen. I mean, I’d caused a PR scandal rather than solving a slight image issue. Arguably, they had every reason to fire me.

“You look like you’re waiting to get fired,” Tommy said, like he’d read my mind. Maybe my face wasn’t as neutral as I’d hoped.

“Well, can you blame me?” I asked, ripping off the band-aid.

“Fair enough.” He chuckled, reaching for his coffee mug. He set it back on the ring-stained coaster before saying, “I meant what I said. On the air.”