Luna's POV
I take a shaky breath, staring down at the swirling mint leaves in my drink.
‘I feel so stupid,’ I continue, the sting of Ashton's words fresh all over again. ‘To think he would trust me, see me as an equal, as a qualified person who can do her job. I believed that he had faith in me, but . . . he doesn’t. He’s just like Trevor and the rest of the men in my department. In everyone’s eyes, I’m not capable of handling the press, or doing my job . . . I’m just there to fill people’s coffee mugs and proof read the reports.’
Celeste’s hand drops from her glass. Her gaze softening into heartbreaking empathy. She reaches straight across the table, her fingers wrapping tightly around my cold, trembling wrists, anchoring me to the booth.
‘Oh, Luna,’ she says softly, her voice cutting
