Page 73 of The October Arrangement

I sat silently and prayed she’d ask me to shoot their Christmas campaign so I could stay in New York longer.

“I’m hoping. I showed Hattie what you’ve done for fall, and she said she would try to replicate the same for Christmas.”

Instantly, my brows furrowed. “Who’s Hattie?”

“She’s the social content manager you’re filling in for. She’ll be back from her leave on November 1st and will take over the Christmas campaign.”

“Oh,” I said.

“You’ve done such a wonderful job, Bella. I can’t thank you enough. I just know the next couple of weeks of you working for us is going to be amazing. Keep up the good work. I’ll talk to you soon.”

And just like that, her face disappeared. I shut my laptop and pushed it away. I knew Hattie was coming back eventually. I was only hired for their fall campaign. I knew it was only temporary, but I had hoped they’d see enough potential in me to want to hire me on permanently. Which they did. Geneva praised my work up and down. They’re having their best quarter ever because of the fall campaign I put together. I’d changed things. I shifted the way Ever & Oak presented their brand. I paid close attention to what people were responding to instead of posting the same things repeatedly. I tested new content, and it worked.

The Christmas campaign was already thought out in my head. I had the best ideas for content. I’d been saving ideas on my phone and making notes whenever something came to me. I had a solid plan on how I’d build momentum from November into December. I shouldn’t have thought about it, but I was sure Geneva would give me a permanent job after she saw how well the fall campaign was doing. But that wasn’t the case, and I needed to stop thinking about it.

I stood from the chair and walked over to the window. I stared out at the city and thought about what now. Hattie would be back soon and resume her position. She would take over Christmas. And me? I’d be back to where I was before I came to New York.

I couldn’t think about it anymore, so I went to the store and picked up everything I needed to make Simon a chicken pot pie for dinner.

Simon

By the time I stepped off the elevator and walked into the penthouse, I was fucking done with the day. Tribeca had consumed nearly every minute of it, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I loosened my tie and tossed my keys onto the table. That’s when I smelled it. Chicken pot pie baking. She’d actually made it. After giving me shit this morning and telling me she wasn’t my personal chef, she’d made the damn pot pie after all.

“Bella?” I called out.

“In the kitchen.”

There was something in her tone that didn’t settle right with me. I walked into the kitchen, and she was bent over the oven, taking the pot pie out. She set it on the stove, turned, and looked at me. She didn’t look happy.

“You made it.” I smiled.

“I did.” She walked over to the island and picked up her wine glass.

“With extra crust?” I asked.

“Yes, Simon.”

“And peas?”

She stared at me, and I could tell she was in a bad mood.

“Do you really want to ask me about the fucking peas right now?” she snapped.

“No,” I quickly replied.

“Good.”

I took off my suit coat and tossed it onto one of the stools at the island. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who had a shitty day. I walked out of the kitchen and over to the bar. I grabbed the bottle of scotch and poured more than I should have into the glass.

“Bad day?” Bella asked.

“Really bad,” I said. “It looks to me like you had one as well. How bad was yours?”

“Pretty fucking bad.” She walked back into the kitchen and finished off her wine.

“Work?” I asked.

“Yep.”