My newfound assertiveness doesn’t help me shake the feeling something bad is going on. I look at Mr. Bexley’s closed door again.
“Go home, darling. No one should ring this late on a Friday anyway. It should be illegal. What are you up to this weekend?” I have the weirdest feeling that she’s testing me.
Unless it’s to Josh, I can’t lie properly. “I think I’m going on a road trip with a . . . friend. Actually, not a friend. But I can’t quite decide if I should.”
The word friend feels like a foreign word I’ve mispronounced. Frand. She catches the pause, and smiles.
“You should go. I hope you have a wonderful time with your friend. You need one. I know you’ve been lonely since the merger, when you lost your Valerie.”
Unexpectedly, she takes my shoulders in her hands, and kisses both of my cheeks. “I can see your brain working. I think just for this weekend you need to put it all aside. Forget the interview. One day, this interview will be a faint memory.”
“Hopefully a good memory. A triumphant memory.”
“It’s up to the recruitment gods now. I know you’ve done all you can.”
I have to admit it’s true. “As long as the ebook formatting doesn’t screw up, I’d be ready to be interviewed now.”
“I’m your boss, and I am ordering you to live a little this weekend. You’re fading away these last few days. Look at your eyes. All red. You look as bad as Josh does. We’ve driven you both to a nervous breakdown, announcing the promotion.” She purses her mouth unhappily.
“There are moments when I wish this had never happened. None of it. The merger. This office. This promotion. It’s ending something, and I’m not ready yet.”
“I’m sorry.” She pats my hand. “So sorry.”
“I’ve been getting my filing up to date, in case I have to leave. I’ve emailed my CV to five or six recruitment firms. I’ve cleaned out my drawers. I’m pretty much packed. Just in case.”
Helene looks at Josh’s desk, which seems even more sanitized than usual. He’s been doing the same. You could perform surgery on his desk.
“I can’t lose you. We’d find you somewhere else in another team. Somewhere you’d be happy. I don’t want you to be fretting all weekend, thinking you have no options.”
“But how could I bump into the new COO in the elevator? How humiliating.”
I can imagine it now. The heat would rise in my body, and the tiny hairs on my skin would rise in memory. He’d look down at me, eyes coolly professional. I’d greet him politely and remember how he pressed me against an elevator wall once in a total game changer. Then I’d reach my floor and leave him behind to continue his journey upward.
t’s better to leave here completely than have to look at him across boardroom tables and glimpse him in the basement parking lot. He’ll find a new woman to torment and fascinate. One day I might see a gold ring on his hand.
“Why would I keep torturing myself like that?”
I think my expression must be stark, because Helene makes an attempt to cheer me.
“Live a little, this weekend. Trust me. It will work out for the best.”
“I’ll put the phones through to my cell and let you know if anything urgent comes in.”
I need to go downstairs to my car. I want to open the trunk, look at my packed bag, and try to dodge the big question a little longer. The how do I feel about Josh question. My car keys glow in my bag. I could get in my car, and drive.
I pat my pockets and realize I’ve got a major problem. My cell phone is gone. I look under my desk, in my bag, in folders, and paperwork. I can’t even remember the last time I saw it.
I find it beside the sink in the ladies room. When I return to my desk, Josh is emerging from his meeting with Mr. Bexley without a hair out of place.
Chapter 19
What was all that about?” I hug the back of my chair.
“Professional disagreement.” He lifts a shoulder carelessly, reminding me of what he’s wearing. When he walked in today, he was wearing a pale green shirt I’ve never seen before. I’ve spent today trying to decide if it’s a harbinger of doom, or if I love it.
“What’s with the green shirt?”
“Green seemed appropriate, given my little scene in Starbucks.”
Mr. Bexley puts his head out of his office, looks at us both, and shakes his head. “Hell in a handbasket. I tell you, hell in a handbasket.”
A witchy Shakespearean crone has nothing on him right now.
Josh laughs. “Richard, please.”
“Shut your mouth, Bexley,” I hear Helene call faintly. He harrumphs and slams his office door. Josh looks at his desk and picks up his tin of mints, pocketing them. He flicks his phone to voice mail and pushes his chair in. It looks exactly like his desk on the first day I met him. Sterile. Impersonal. He walks to the window and looks outside.
It’s that first moment all over again. I’m standing by my desk, nerves shredding me from the inside out. There’s a huge man by the window with glossy dark hair, his hands in pockets. As he turns, I pray he’s not as gorgeous as I think he is. The light catches his jaw and I’m pretty sure.
When those eyes hit me, I know.
He looks at me. Top of my head to the tips of my shoes. Say the words, I think desperately. You’re beautiful. Please, let’s be friends.
“Tell me what the hell is going on.”
“I’m sworn to confidentiality.”
In a clever strategy, he has utilized the one thing he knows I won’t argue against.
“Tell me they just didn’t informally offer you the job.”
“No, they didn’t.”
I lower my voice to a whisper. “Do they know about . . . us?”
“No.”
My two big fears seem unfounded.
“So . . . how are we getting out of here? Do I still have to?”
“Yes. That thing over there”—he points as he unhooks my coat from the hanger—“is an elevator. You’ve been in it before. With me, in fact. I’ll step you through the process.”
“What if someone sees us?”
“You say that now? Lucinda, you’re priceless.”
I slap my keyboard to lock my computer, snatch my handbag and clatter after him. I try to tug my coat from his arm but he shakes his head and tuts. The elevator doors open and he tugs me in, his hand at my waist.
I turn and see Helene, leaning on her doorframe, her posture one of casual amusement. She then throws her head back and laughs in delight, clapping her hands together. He waves to Helene as the doors close.
I use both hands to push him to the other side of the elevator. “Get over there. We look so obvious. She heard us. She saw us. You’re carrying my coat. She knows you’d never do that.” I’m almost hoarse with embarrassment.
“Newsflash, I am doing that.” He circles his finger over the emergency stop button. I grab his hand in a steely grip. I think he suppresses a laugh.
When we get to the basement I creep out ahead. “We’re clear.”
I go to my car and unlock the trunk. My suitcase is lying crooked and upside down and it feels like a sign. I want to leap into my car, screech out, and lose him in a high-speed chase. As quickly as the image forms, his hand materializes, reaches, takes my suitcase, and walks off to his car. I snatch up my garment bag, lock my car, and then realize something.
“If we leave my car here, Helene will know. She’ll see it.”
“Should we hide it under some branches in a forest?”
What an excellent idea. I rub my stomach. “I don’t . . .”
“Don’t even say you don’t want to do this. It’s all over your face. I don’t want to do this either. But we’re going.”
He’s getting a little terse. My belongings are in his trunk, my handbag is on the passenger seat.
“Can I take my car home?”
“Yeah, right. You’ll escape. If anyone asks on Monday, say it broke down again. It’s the perfect alibi, because your car is shit.”
“Josh . . . I’m freaking out.” I have to put my hands on the door of his car to steady myself. If I thought things were going too fast before, it’s all hitting warp speed. He pulls off his tie and undoes two buttons. He’s beautiful, even in this dreadful basement.
“Yes, that’s obvious.” His little brow-crease is deepening. “I am too. You look exhausted.”
“I couldn’t sleep. Why are you freaking out?”
He ignores me. “You can sleep in the car.” He opens the door for me. He tries to fold me in but I dig my heels in.
“The interview. The job.”
“Fuck it. The interview will happen. We will deal with the outcome.” He takes my shoulders in his hands.
“It’s not that easy. I lost someone important to me in the merger, my friend Val. I kept my job, she lost her job, and now we’re no longer friends. Just as an example,” I hastily tack on. I nearly told Joshua Templeman that he is important. I just hinted that we’re friends. He narrows his eyes.
“She sounds like an asshole.”
“It’s why I’m a lonely loser. Look, I’m meeting your family tomorrow. Let’s face it, we’re almost certainly seeing each other naked sometime soon. Tiny bit of pressure.”
He ignores me again. “This is our last chance to sort our shit out.”
I still hesitate, stubborn as a mule.
“This weekend is going to be hard for me. But with you there, maybe it won’t be so bad.”
Maybe it’s the surprise of that little admission, but my knees weaken enough to allow me to get into the car and momentarily relinquish control to the last person I ever thought I would.
I feel weak with defeat. Even when packing my bag and buying a dress, I’d felt sure I’d find some last-minute way to escape or get out of it. Only in my worst-case-scenario imaginings did I think I’d be in his car, exiting the B&G underground parking lot.
The sun drops lower in the sky as he drives us through the heavy afternoon traffic. It seems like everyone in the city has had the same idea: It’s time to escape into the pale, pretty hills.
I have to break this awkward silence. “So how long is this drive?”
“Four hours.”
“Google Maps says five,” I say without thinking.
“Yeah, if you drive like a grandmother. Glad I’m not the only one who’s done some hometown cyber-stalking.”
He sighs as a car cuts us off, braking. “Asshole.”
“How are we going to pass four hours?” I know what I want to do. Lie here in this warm leather seat and stare at him. I want to lean across and press my face against the firm pad of his shoulder. I want to breathe, and imprint it all into my memory, for when I need it one day.
“We manage it all the time.”
“So, where are we staying? Please don’t say your parents’ house.”
“My parents’ house.”
“Oh holy fuck. Why? Why?” I scrabble upright in my seat.
“I’m kidding. The wedding reception’s at a hotel. Patrick has made a booking of a bunch of rooms. We mention the wedding when we check in.”
“Is it seedy?”