Chapter Eight
Jamie
I usually liked to think of myself as a man with a plan. Even when things were going to shit at Scintilla, I had been hoping to bring myself back up again, figure shit out. I was always working on a plan.
But this completely fucked-up situation Francis Marsh had put me in? I couldn’t come up with a plan.
We needed Francis Marsh. Thus, I couldn’t ignore his ultimatum. Something had to happen.
But I couldn’t break up with Liz. I loved her. And I wasn’t about to ask her to leave Tolbert Developments right after I’d bought her company to ensure she could keep her job—that was even more fucked up than what Francis Marsh was doing to me.
Without a plan, I was in a sucky state of limbo. I hadn’t been able to explain things to Liz yesterday, although I knew I’d hurt her feelings when I refused to go to lunch with her. That hadn’t been fair of me but I’d still been stewing over Marsh’s revelation.
Last night, I’d tried explaining it to her in person but she wasn’t answering her door. I’d known she was home but she wasn’t answering my calls or texts.
I’d fucked up, big time.
My newest idea was to cool things for a bit while Marsh was still prowling around. Just, as far as he and everyone at the office was concerned, there was no relationship happening between me and Liz. What we did during the off-hours would be our own business but even most of that would have to be curbed because it would look bad if we happened to go out to dinner somewhere and run into Marsh.
I banged my head on my desk. This sucked. There was no good answer, and I’d pissed off the woman I loved.
I had to see her. I just had to be near her, maybe catch a whiff of her subtle perfume, see whatever chic-yet-comfortable outfit she’d chosen today and how her breasts filled out her top. It wasn’t just her looks or the way she smelled, though—I wanted to talk to her. I missed being with her. This distance wasn’t working out for me.
How the hell did I plan on us cooling things down until Marsh backed off?
No fuckin’ clue.
I stood up and left my office, took huge strides down the hall, and entered the giant, open office where everyone worked at tables. It was supposed to promote collaboration, and I liked the sight of dozens of people clustered in groups, troubleshooting and brainstorming various aspects of their projects. It was awesome.
Liz was at a desk along the wall to my left. She had a little more privacy than some people because as a project manager she needed long stretches of time to make plans without getting interrupted every ten minutes.
Just as my gaze met hers, she looked away. She was pretending she hadn’t seen me, but I knew she had. Her jaw was set, though, and now her eyes were firmly fixed to her computer.
I sauntered down the aisle between the other tables and the desks along the wall. Liz kept her gaze on her work space but her hands were still on the computer keyboard and I knew she was focused on me, not on her work.
She’d worn a dress today, but I knew it wasn’t because of me. For a while, she’d abandoned her usual outfit of leggings and flowing tops, because of our habit of hooking up whenever we could sneak away from our desks. Today’s dress was like a slap in the face to me. I could look at her, at the way her cleavage peeked just slightly above the low neckline of black and white, polka-dotted fabric. I could see the curves of her breasts, the narrow point of her waist, the flare of her hips, even from her seated position.
I could smell her faint, flowery perfume.
And the memory of the way her hair felt in my hands, the feel of her skin under my fingertips, was imprinted in my mind.
I continued walking but I paused at her desk, hoping she’d look up at me and maybe even say hello.
Nothing. I got nothing.
I kept walking, my pride wounded. There was nothing else to do but make a circuit of the room before walking back to my own office.
As I walked, though, I reflected. The fact that she was giving me the cold shoulder was probably for the best. It was on par with Marsh’s ultimatum. It was as if we were on some sort of break, although I loathed the very idea of that. At the same time, it kept the company safe and still in the running for those global connections we needed.
The rest of the morning passed by in a blur, a meeting with Aaron, and several phone calls with other team members at our other office site. I didn’t have anything to discuss with Liz, unfortunately, although I picked up my phone several times to start texting her before I remembered how pissed she was.
So, it came as a complete surprise when she knocked on my office door. Her black and white polka-dot dress was visible through the privacy shades that I’d left open.
“Come in,” I said, waving her in when she opened the door.
She closed the door behind her and faced me. Her generous mouth was pinched in a frown, and her gray-blue eyes flashed with annoyance.
“What the hell, Jamie?” she said. “I thought we were over this shit where you start ignoring me for no good reason.”
I held up my hands. “Hey, I’ve been trying to explain—”
“And then you want to, what, make up while we’re at work? You’re the one who wanted to keep things on the down-low, you know.” Her voice was raised, and spots of pink appeared on her cheeks. She looked so utterly kissable.
I stood up, my hands outstretched in a placating gesture. “I don’t like this any more than you do—”
“The hell you don’t,” she said. “You started it!”
“Listen, I know. I know this sucks. I want to change things, but I need to explain.”
She shook her head, and her strawberry-blond hair undulated with angry waves. “Forget it, Jamie. I’m too mad. Just forget it.”
I watched, my mouth open, as she spun around on her sexy heels and marched back out of my office, her spine straight. A couple of my other employees stood in the hallway, their eyes wide.
I walked to my door, staring them down. “What?” I barked.
“Nothing, just… a couple of ideas Yvonne came up with, that we, uh, wanted to run by you,” the guy said.
I waved them in. Already, Liz was at the end of the hall, the hem of her dress flaring out with each step. I hated this. I hated her being angry, I hated not getting a chance to explain.
Something was going to have to change, and soon.