After (The After Series)

we spend almost every night together anyway. I shake the thought from my head.
It’s a bad idea; it’s too soon. Too soon.
Still, I spend the entire drive imagining getting an apartment with Hardin,
picking out curtains and painting walls. By the time I hit the elevator at Vance,
I’ve already picked out the shower curtain and bathmats, but when the elevator
reaches the third floor a young man in a dark navy suit steps on and breaks my
concentration.
“Hello,” he says and reaches for the elevator buttons. Seeing that the button
for the top floor has already been pushed, he leans back against the wall of the
elevator.
“Are you new here?” he asks. He smells like soap, and his eyes are a crispy
blue, which is a strange contrast to his dark hair.
“I’m just an intern,” I tell him.
“Just an intern?” He laughs.
“I mean, I am an intern, not an actual employee,” I correct myself nervously.
“I started as an intern a few years ago and was hired on full-time. Do you go
to WCU?”
“Yeah, did you?”
“Yep, just graduated last year. Glad that’s over with.” He chuckles. “You’ll
like it here.”
“Thanks, I already love it,” I say as we step off the elevator.
As I go to turn the corner, he says, “I never caught your name.”
“Tessa, Tessa Young.”
He smiles and with a small goodbye wave says, “I’m Trevor. Nice to meet
you, Tessa.”
The same woman from yesterday is at the desk and this time introduces
herself as Kimberly. She smiles, wishes me good luck, and gestures toward a
table full of food and coffee. I smile and thank her, grabbing a sprinkled donut
and a cup of coffee before I head back to my office. On my desk I find a thick
pile of paper with a note from Mr. Vance telling me to begin my first manuscript
and good luck. I love the freedom of this internship—I can’t believe my luck.
Digging into my donut, I pluck the note off the paper and get to work.
The manuscript is actually really good, and I can’t seem to put it down. I’m
only a third of the way in when the phone on my desk rings.

---

“Hello?” I say, then realize I have no clue how to answer my own office
phone. Wanting to sound more grown-up, I add, “I mean, Tessa Young’s office.”
I bite my lip and hear a small laugh on the other end.
“Ms. Young, there is someone here to see you. Shall I send him in?” Kimberly
asks.
“Tessa. Call me Tessa, please,” I tell her. It seems disrespectful to have her
call me Ms. Young; she is far more experienced and older than me.
“Tessa,” she says, and I can picture her friendly smile. “Should I send him
in?” she asks again.
“Oh yeah. Wait . . . who is it?”
“I’m not sure . . . young guy . . . um . . . he has tattoos, lots of tattoos,” she
whispers and I laugh.
“Yeah, I will come out to get him,” I tell her and hang up.
That Hardin is here both thrills me and scares me. I hope everything is okay.
When I walk out into the lobby he is standing with his hands in his pockets and
Kimberly is on the phone. I get the feeling that she is only pretending to be on
the phone, I can’t tell for sure. I hope that it doesn’t seem like I am taking
advantage of the great opportunity Mr. Vance has given me by having visitors on
my second day.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I approach him.
“Yeah, I just wanted to see how your first full day was going.” He smiles and
rolls his eyebrow ring in his fingers.
“Oh. It’s great I—” I begin, but stop when Mr. Vance strides toward us.
“Well . . . well . . . well . . . Come to grovel for your job back?” He smiles
wide at Hardin and pats him on the shoulder.
“You wish, you old wanker,” Hardin says, laughing, and my jaw drops. Mr.
Vance chuckles and raises his fist before playfully nudging Hardin in his ribs.
They must be closer than I thought.
“So what do I owe the honor? Or are you here to stalk my new intern?” He
looks over at me.
“The second. Stalking interns is my favorite pastime.” I look back and forth
between them, unsure what to say. I love seeing this playful side to Hardin; it
doesn’t come out much.
“Do you have time to get some lunch, if you haven’t already?” Hardin asks
me. My eyes dart to the clock on the wall; it’s already noon. The day has gone
by quickly.
I look at Mr. Vance and he shrugs. “You have an hour each day for lunch. A
girl’s got to eat!” He smiles and says goodbye to Hardin before disappearing
down the hall.

---

“I texted you a few times to make sure you got here, but you didn’t answer,”
Hardin tells me when we step onto the elevator.
“I haven’t looked at my phone, I got sucked into a story,” I tell him and I
reach for his hand.
“You’re okay, right? We are okay?” he asks, his eyes locked into mine.
“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?”
“I . . . I don’t know . . . I was just getting worried because you weren’t
answering me. I had thought . . . maybe you were starting to regret last night.”
He looks down.
“What? Of course not. I honestly didn’t check my phone. I have no regrets
from last night, not a single one.” I can’t hide my smile as the memories invade
my thoughts.
“Good. Well, that’s a damn relief.” He lets out a breath.
“You drove all the way here because you thought I was having regrets?” I ask.
It’s a little extreme, but flattering all the same.
“Yeah . . . well, not completely. I also wanted to take you to lunch.” He smiles
and lifts my hand to his lips.
We step off the elevator and walk outside. I should have brought my jacket. I
shiver and Hardin looks over to me.
“I have a jacket in my car. We can grab it, then walk around the corner to Brio
—it’s really good.” We walk to his car and he pulls a black leather jacket out of
his trunk, which makes me laugh. He must have an entire wardrobe in there.
Ever since I met him he’s been pulling clothes out of that trunk.
The jacket is surprisingly warm and smells like Hardin. It engulfs me, of
course, so I shake my arms to push the sleeves up.
“Thank you.” I kiss him on his jaw.
“It looks good on you—perfect fit.”
He takes my hand as we walk down the sidewalk; we earn a few strange
glances from the businessmen and -women on the streets. Sometimes I forget
how different we appear on the outside. We are polar opposites in almost every
way, but somehow it works for us.
Brio is a small but quaint Italian place. The floor is covered in beautiful
multicolored tiles and the ceiling is a mural of heaven, with chubby smiling
cherubs waiting outside white gates, and a pair of angels—one white and one
black—locked in an embrace beyond them. The white angel seems to be trying
to pull the other through the gates to the other side.
“Tess?” Hardin says and pulls me by the sleeve.
“Coming,” I mumble and we walk to the table, which is set in the back of the
restaurant. Hardin sits in the chair right next to me instead of across, pulling his

---

chair closer and resting his elbows on the table. He orders for both of us, but I
don’t mind since he’s been here before.
“So you and Mr. Vance are really close, then?” I ask.
“I wouldn’t say that. But we know each other well enough.” He shrugs.
“You seemed to really get along, I like seeing you that way.”
The hint of a smile tugs at his lips and he puts his hand on my thigh. “Do you
now?”
“Yes, I like to see you happy.” I feel like there is more behind his and Mr.
Vance’s relationship than he is telling me, but for now I am not going to push it.
“I am happy. Happier than I thought I would be . . . ever,” he adds.
“What has gotten into you? You’re getting soft on me,” I tease and he
chuckles.
“I can knock over a few tables, bloody a few noses to remind you,” he says
and I push my shoulder into his.
“No, thanks.” I giggle.
Our food arrives and I thank the waitress. The food looks amazing, and I
inhale the great aromas before taking a bite. Hardin ordered us some sort of
ravioli, and it’s delicious.
“Good, huh?” he brags and fills his mouth with food. I nod and do the same.
After we’re finished, Hardin and I bicker about who is going to pay for lunch,
but he ends up winning.
“You can pay me back later.” He winks behind the waitress’s back.
When we walk back to VP, Hardin follows me inside. “You’re coming up?” I
ask him.
“Yeah, I wanted to see your office, then I will go. Promise.”
“Deal,” I tell him and we step onto the elevator. When we reach the top floor I
give him his jacket back and he shrugs it on. My eyes widen at how hot he looks
in the leather.
“Hey, it’s you again.” The guy in the navy suit says as we walk down the hall.
“And it’s you again.” I smile.
His eyes dart to Hardin, who introduces himself.
“Nice to meet you. My name is Trevor; I work in finance.” He give a little
wave, then says, “Well, see you around,” and walks away.
When we walk into my office Hardin grabs my wrist and turns me to face
him. “What the hell was that?” he spits out.