Chapter 3 Catherine

The Detriot office buzzed like a beehive... deals, deadlines, and desperation hanging in the air. I inhaled deeply, letting the familiar chaos steady me.

"Miss Catherine," Shelly, my assistant, chirped. Her eyes flicked to my left hand,, my now bare ring finger. I pasted on my most polished smile, hiding the sting.

"Something wrong?" I asked, though I already knew.

She blinked, then gave a nervous laugh. "No, no! It's just... you'd already said you were done for the year. I didn't expect to see you back so soon."

"I changed my mind," I said coolly, adjusting my grip on my bag. "What's on the docket?"

Shelly hesitated. "Well... if you're sure. There's one project that's behind schedule. Local election in Detroit. The mayoral race. It's a mess but it's winnable." She handed me a folder with too many post-its.

I nodded, taking my coffee and heading toward my office. Shelly followed, rattling off deadlines.

"The candidate's high-profile, lots of donor traction. He's got the funding, just needs the polish. You'll whip it into shape."

"Who's the client?" I asked, eyes scanning the report.

"Mr. Ronald Turner."

I stopped cold. My breath hitched, my head snapped up to find a pair of blue eyes staring back at me.

"Good morning, Catherine," Mr Turner said smoothly. "I look forward to working with you."

No. No, no, no.

My brain short-circuited, flashing back to three nights ago... his calloused hands on my face, the heat in his gaze, the almost-kiss. Just a blur of Monopoly money, expensive rum, and dangerously frayed restraint. I shook my head. It was just the alcohol making overthinking. Nothing happened.

I took in a shaky breath and smiled. "Mr Turner, Star heights will take care of every of your needs. You just sit back and relax."

His lips curled into a faint smirk. "That's why I pay good money." He stood, buttoning his tailor made suit and stretched out his hand for a handshake. "Make me mayor Catherine."

I shook it, ignoring the way his touch lingered. "We're only as good as our clients."

We locked eyes for way too long.

Shelly cleared her throat behind me. "Here's the campaign schedule... it's tight, but nothing Catherine can't juggle."

Her voice faded into background noise. My thoughts screamed: What sin did I commit to end up stuck with my ex's father? One who nearly kissed me.

The rest of the day passed in a blur. As Shelly packed up for the holidays, I stopped her.

"Hey, Shelly," I said. "I don't think this project is the best one for me. I'll need you to write an email to the board."

She blinked. "Wait-what?"

"I called off the engagement. Jayden and I are done."

Her mouth dropped open. "Oh."

Just "oh." No sympathy. No shock. I guess I'd been the only one fooled.

"I just... I think it would be too weird," I said quietly.

She grinned. "Nonsense, you're a boss chick. Screw some trust fund kid. If you do this? It would open up doors for you Miss Catherine. I'm talking about you going straight to being a board member."

"I know, but-"

"No buts." She pointed a lacquered nail at me. "This is your moment. You want freedom? You want time for your sister? You finish this job. Nail this campaign, and you'll never have to answer to anyone again."

She slung her purse over her shoulder, pausing just long enough to deliver the final punchline:

"Besides, now you get to work up close and personal with Mr. Turner. Why settle for the colt when you could have the stallion?"

And with that, she sauntered off, hips swaying, leaving me speechless in the hallway. I shook my head chuckling to myself.

I grabbed my bag, getting into the car and the engine revved to life as I sped through the streets. My mind spun. If this campaign succeeded, I could slow down. I could breathe. Ellie and I could move into a bigger place. She'd have more space. Better care. Hell, we could even take a trip. Something normal. Something happy.

I pulled into the hospital parking lot and stepped out, the cold nipping at my skin. Inside, the elevator took me to the top floor... Ellie's floor. I guess the Turner family hadn't pulled their support just yet.

The door creaked open as I stepped into the room. The sterile smell of antiseptic clung to everything, the rhythmic sound of the EKG matched my heartbeat. She was asleep, clinging to her stuffed pillow.

I smiled, perching on the side of the bed and she stirred, her lashes fluttering open.

"Katie?" She croaked, rubbing her eyes.

"Hey, sport. Miss me?"

Her eyes lit up and she threw herself at me with her arms tight around my neck. "Of course I missed you! They dragged me out of class. I just fainted, that's all. Total overreaction."

She pulled back with a pout. "I'm sure everyone stared. What if it happens at the school dance? What if they think I'm some diseased freak?"

I ran my fingers through her hair. "I don't care what they think, Ellie. All I care about is that you're okay. Everyone else can shove it."

She giggled then coughed. I was on my feet instantly, grabbing water. She took it gratefully and drank but her eyes were glassy with defiance.

"I'm fine, Katie. You worry too much. Look at your frown lines."

I gasped, feigning offense. "How dare you."

Her eyes flickered to my fingers and I exhaled sharply, already knowing where this was headed. "Ellie-"

"Did you dump that douchebag?" she interrupted brightly. "Thank God. I was worried I'd be stuck with him as a brother-in-law forever."

I snorted. "That douchebag pays for your VIP room."

She arched her brow. "You mean his dad does?"

"Same difference."

She wrinkled her nose. "Still a douchebag."

And just like that, she changed the subject, typical Ellie, launching into gossip and stories. We spent the night trading laughter for worry, and for a little while, everything felt almost normal.

Almost.