“Oh, and Emma Jane? Gail wanted to see you before you get started for the day.” Alissa catches me as I’m entering my office, about to set my briefcase down and unpack my things.

My head snaps up as unease ripples through me. Gail, VP of marketing and advertising, normally has a loose rein when it comes to me doing my job. She’s a wonderful mentor but also isn’t one to keep constant tabs on me.

“Okay,” I answer slowly as I set my briefcase on the floor against my desk. After I open the top drawer, I place my keys in it before tossing my purse in the back of the bottom drawer. Then I grab a legal pad and a pen and make my way down the hall to Gail’s corner office.

Her secretary, Margo, calls on the intercom before waving me into her boss’s office. Striding in, I’m startled by Gail’s quiet request for me to close the door, leaving us ensconced in silence for a moment.

Running a finely manicured hand down her sleek, gray bob hairstyle, Gail’s attention settles on me.

“Please have a seat, Emma Jane.”

Stepping toward one of the plush chairs, I perch on it, bristling with curiosity.

She steeples her fingers, resting her elbows on the mahogany surface of her desk, and levels a look at me. “I assume you’ve heard the rumors about Martin.”

My brow furrows. “I assumed they were just that: rumors.”

“Sadly, no. It’s been confirmed that the new owner will be arriving tomorrow.”

My stomach flips, but her next words make it feel like the floor drops out from beneath me entirely.

“And word on the street is, our new owner has major plans for restructuring.”

The blood leaves my face, and I instantly pale. Restructuring? I reach up to pinch the bridge of my nose as I attempt composure. Inhaling what I hope to be a calming breath, I meet Gail’s eyes.

Only to see everything I feared written in the depths.

“I’ve already submitted my resignation to HR and have accepted a position with StyleNow.”

“But—”

Gail offers me a sympathetic smile. “Emma Jane, I’m far too old to go through the rigmarole of jumping through hoops for some young print media mogul. I need stability.”

“Yes, but—”

“And this means great things for you.” Flashing me a knowing look, she adds, “Because this way, you’ll have the opportunity to slip into my position.”

My lips part in surprise. I mean, sure, I’ve always set my sights on moving up, but I also knew Gail wouldn’t be retiring for a while. Now, with this new development and her leaving…

“Oh, wow.”

Gail lets out a subdued chuckle. “Yes, dear. Wow, indeed.” Raising her eyebrows, she returns to business. “You’ll need to ensure that you make all the right moves with the new owner, get off on the right foot so there won’t be any doubt that you should be promoted. I’ve already written that in my notes to HR.”

The fact that Gail thinks so highly of me is an immense compliment, but my excitement begins to ebb at the challenge I face ahead.

I have to do everything in my power to compel this new owner to not only keep me on staff, but to also promote me to VP of marketing and advertising.

Holy hell in a handbasket.

* * *

“So you’re telling me she doesn’t even know the guy’s name?”

I’m FaceTiming with Madison, who is one of my closest girlfriends and F&F’s beauty editor, while I finish typing up some proposals in my office.

I immediately called her once I returned to my office after the unsettling talk with Gail, praying Madison would be available since she’s down in Miami for some conference.

“Get this. No one seems to know anything about him—not his name or even where he’s from—except for the fact that he’s hell-bent on restructuring and cutting jobs.”

Madison stares back at me, her blue eyes wide with dismay. “That’s insane! What the hell happened with Martin?”

I roll my eyes. “Apparently, he did some not-so-savory things with earnings from this place, and it got him into some pretty hot water, financially speaking.”

“Wow.”

“Tell me about it,” I breathe out on a sigh. “Gail’s using up her personal leave because she’s already accepted a position with StyleNow.”

“You should have no problem convincing this guy you’re the right person for the job. You’ve got this in the bag. I mean”—Madison waves a hand dismissively—“you’ve practically been groomed for the job all along.”

“From your lips to God’s ears.”

I hear someone call to her in the background. She nods and offers me an apologetic look. “Sorry, but I have to get going.” She crosses her eyes. “More complexion remedies for sweaty breakouts and clogged pores.”

“Have fun with that.”

She makes a face. “Pray for me. If it’s another one of those godforsaken peel-off charcoal masks…”

“Ah, the fad that needs to die a quick death.” I wink at her. “At least your pores will be clean and clear.”

She sticks out her tongue playfully before we say our goodbyes and disconnect.

* * *

“Emma Jane?” Alissa’s voice sounds over my speakerphone the following day. “I just wanted to be sure you received the email about the mandatory meeting in Boardroom G for the marketing and advertising department.”

“Sweet sugar,” I curse beneath my breath, dragging my attention away from my work. The latest proposal I’ve been working on had caused me to lose track of time. Now I only have a few minutes to haul my butt down the long hallway to catch an elevator and make it to the designated boardroom on the next floor. With a sigh, I press the intercom button on my phone. “Thanks for the reminder, Alissa.”

Scooping up my legal pad and pen, I rush out of my office, mentally preparing to meet the new owner. Once I exit the elevator and make my way to Boardroom G, I manage to snag a seat at the far end of the long oval-shaped table.

Barely a minute passes before the din of light conversation ebbs to complete silence when a man enters the room and heads straight for the opposite end of the table. I can only see the back of him as he takes long, powerful strides, one hand grasping a thick binder. Something seems so familiar about him... My eyes track his movements, and my forehead creases as I try to place him.

His suit is well tailored, and it’s evident the man works out, the black pinstriped dress pants failing to mask his powerful, muscled thighs and firm backside. When he sets the binder down, his suit jacket shifts and hints at a firm, flat stomach beneath the button-down shirt. My appraisal continues down to his hands when he draws one hand back from the binder.

An odd sensation overtakes me, and a rousing awareness crackles within the air, causing me to immediately grow still.

Then he turns, fully facing everyone in the room, and it’s at this moment my breath is completely robbed from me.

As if in shock, my mind refuses to operate on all cylinders, acting sluggish. I continue to take in the sight before me, cataloguing my observations. The square jawline that used to remain clean-shaven now has a short, neatly trimmed beard of the same dark shade of brown as his hair. My eyes skim over the straight nose that has the faintest bump on the bridge from the time when he was five and fel—

Sweet Lord, no.

As the man’s identity dawns on me, my eyes flicker over my co-workers seated around the large table before I return my panicked gaze to the individual who’s garnering attention with his commanding presence.

He surveys everyone in attendance, and those piercing green eyes, framed by dark lashes, scan each person and slowly travel around the table. My heart skips a beat when his eyes land on me. If I weren’t scrutinizing so intently, I wouldn’t have caught the slight pause, the faint shift in depth of his gaze, as it grows frigid before he continues his perusal of the remainder of the staff members.

My throat grows dry, and I immediately wish I’d brought my water bottle along. A stick of gum, even. Anything.

I should’ve known better than to think my past wouldn’t catch up to me at some point.

In my case, however, it seems my past is the new owner of my place of employment.

Knox Montgomery. The man I left at the altar.