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Nate is already moving, and I follow with Elias close behind. We're passing the staff break room when the door opens and the voices of two interns carry into the corridor.
“I'm really going to miss Sloane when she's gone.”
“Yeah. Nothing runs this smoothly without her. Did she say where she's going?”
I stop walking, certain I've misheard. Beside me, Elias turns toward the voices while Nate looks at me, then Elias, searching for some indication that either of us knows what the hell they're talking about.
We don't.
Nate turns and heads straight down the corridor toward Sloane. Elias and I following close behind. We find Sloane near the stage, reviewing the final arrangements with a member of the event staff.
Nate walks straight toward her, and we're right on his heels, none of us knowing what the hell we're going to say.
“What’s this about you leaving?” Nate asks. No preamble, no warning, just confrontation.
The pen in Sloane’s hand stops. Her mask holds for a millisecond, then resets; cool, practiced, unfazed. She keeps her eyes on the display. “You shouldn’t listen to hallway gossip.”
“It’s not gossip if it’s coming from your intern,” I say. “So how about you tell us what’s actually going on?”
“Oh, now we're demanding answers?” Sloane gives me a smile so sweet it almost passes for genuine. “Funny how communication suddenly becomes important when you're the ones being kept in the dark. Or is that another privilege that comes with signing my paychecks?”
Elias steps closer. “Sloane.”
She finally glances up, polite smile locked in place. “Everything’s fine. Let’s focus on the launch, yeah? I have a lot to do and not a lot of time to do it.”
“We’re not leaving until you tell us the truth.” Nate shifts so he’s right in her line of sight and for a fraction of a moment, her composure falters. I see the hurt flash behind her eyes, then she exhales, and her mask slips back into place.
“Since you’re forcing the issue,” she says, “yes. I’m resigning after the launch.”
For a moment, none of us speaks. Nate is the first to recover.
“Where are you going?”
Sloane frowns. “Excuse me?”
“Who offered you a position?”
“Nathaniel—”
“Because if you think another company in this city is going to hire you without speaking to me first, you're mistaken.” His voice is frighteningly calm. “One phone call, Sloane. That's all it would take.”
I turn toward him. “Nate, what the fuck?”
Sloane lets out a disbelieving laugh. “Are you seriously threatening to blacklist me because I don't want to work for you anymore?”
“I'm telling you that leaving SOLAÉ isn't going to be as simple as handing in your resignation.”
Jesus Christ. He's so desperate to keep her that he's threatening the very independence he claims to love about her.
Sloane squares her shoulders, looking him directly in the eye. “Then it's a good thing I won't be looking for another job in San Francisco.”
Nate's expression changes. “What?”
“I'm leaving the city, Nathaniel. San Francisco. All of it.”
Whatever Nate was about to say dies on his lips. Beside me, Elias goes rigid, and I can only stare at her, trying to understand how we went from losing our assistant to completely losing our girl.
She isn’t just quitting. She’s leaving us.
