I lost track of time. I was on a roll, the words spilling from me as if they were meant to be. The book was becoming something special, something incredible. Something that Jack could be proud of. It was exactly what I wanted for him. Exactly what I knew he would appreciate. Something I knew he would understand.

Because I knew Jack. Despite everything – his cold and standoffish nature, his fiercely guarded privacy – I knew him. I understood him. And I put all of that in the book. Put all the conflicting, exciting and terrifying things I felt for him in the book. I put myself in the book. It was just as much a part of me as it was a part of him. And I couldn’t wait for him to read it.

Just as I was about to send it off to Jack, I got a text from him.

CAN YOU COME TO THE OFFICE THIS AFTERNOON? It asked.

I swore. I should have been at the office that morning, but I had been so caught up in writing that I had lost track of time. A good sign for the book, but not for an employee who was expected at a certain place at a certain time.

I quickly ran spellcheck and then decided that in addition to sending the manuscript to Jack, I would also print out the first chapter so he could have a hard copy of it. For someone who seemed to value what he could touch, I had a feeling he would appreciate it.

With the chapter tucked under my arm and the rest of the manuscript on a thumb drive, I headed to Jack’s office, practically vibrating with excitement. I couldn’t wait for him to read it. Couldn’t wait to see his face when he finished. I had never been so proud of something I had written before, and I was so ready to share it with him.

Even the security guard’s sour face couldn’t tamp down my anticipation and I found myself skipping into the elevator. An elevator which seemed to be moving at a ridiculously slow speed. I rocked back and forth on my heels, willing it to go faster, willing it to get me to Jack sooner.

I was already imagining what would happen. He would look at me with that serious – and still damn sexy – look of his. The one that he wore in the office, the one that told everyone around him that he meant business. The one that usually softened into a smile, and then could burn me up with the passion that flared in his eyes when he looked at me. I got shivers just remembering the intensity of his gaze each time we had gone out. Each time we had been together. That was the real Jack.

And although that Jack wasn’t one I was ready to share with the world, I still felt that I had captured a side of him that not many people got to see. One that did justice to the amazing man that he was – the heart behind the brain. I had a feeling that the country would fall in love with him all over again when they read this book, but for a totally different reason. I had made him human on the page. He wasn’t just the smart car wunderkind that everyone knew. Not just the billionaire playboy. He was a kind, sweet man, with a sense of humor and a passion for doing what was right. The world didn’t know that side of him. But they would now.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the elevator arrived at his floor. I continued my skipping, though I managed to tone it down as I approached Mrs. Reynolds’s desk. I liked and respected Jack’s secretary a lot, and I didn’t think that skipping over to her would help her think of me in a serious fashion.

But when I arrived in front of her, the look she gave me made everything inside me freeze. Mrs. Reynolds was a smart, serious woman who knew what she was doing. She was also kind and welcoming. At least, she had been in the past few days.

Not now. She could barely look me in the eye.

Something was wrong.

All my fears from that morning returned. I didn’t know what was going on, but it seemed like I was the only one out of the loop. Was Jack married? The room started spinning around me and I thought I might be sick.

“He’s waiting for you,” Mrs. Reynolds told me, gesturing towards Jack’s office door, still not looking at me.

“Thank you,” I croaked, hoping that my legs would be able to take me there without collapsing beneath me.

Jack was sitting behind his desk, but suddenly it felt like a mountain between us.

“Libby.”

At least he could look me in the eye.

“Are you married?” I blurted out before I could stop myself. I seemed to have difficulty controlling myself around him. It was probably that exact problem that had gotten me into this kind of trouble.

“What?” Jack’s face showed his surprise.

“The phone call this morning.” Words spilled out of my mouth, uncontrolled and unexamined. “Was that your wife? Have you been lying to me? Have you been married this whole time?”

Jack stood, his hands flat on the desk.

“You have some nerve coming in here and calling me a liar,” he told me, his voice flat and cold.

My heart seized in my chest.

“Excuse me?” I somehow choked out, not expecting that reaction at all.

“I know what you did,” he accused, crossing his arms over his chest.

Over the chest, I had been draped over, both of us naked, breathless and sweating – less than twenty-four hours before.

“What I did?” I was confused and hurt.

“You spoke to Mac,” Jack told me, his lips fixed in a frown.

It took a moment for his words to sink in, and then a small, stuttering laugh left me.

“Is that why you’re upset?” I asked.

His frown deepened, and he didn’t say anything. I felt a panic rush over me.

“I just wanted to interview him for the book,” I explained. “I thought you said you didn’t mind.”

“I didn’t mind,” Jack narrowed his eyes. “Until you used our relationship to get personal information out of my best friend.”

I was stunned. My legs finally gave out, and I sank into the chair in front of Jack’s desk.

“I didn’t use our relationship to do anything,” I told him. “I didn’t even tell Mac that we were in a relationship.”

It seemed ridiculous that I would have spoken to a stranger about my connection with Jack when I didn’t even know how to define it myself. The whole thing seemed to be blown way out of proportion, but Jack didn’t appear to agree.

“How did he know, then?” Jack’s words were angry.

“I don’t know!” I wanted to throw up my hands. “And it’s not as if he told me any of your deep, dark secrets,” I shot back.

“I don’t have a wife,” he retorted. “I thought you knew me well enough to know that I’d never fool around on someone I cared about.”

I didn’t know if he meant he cared about me, or he cared about the fictional wife in the scenario we were arguing over. Somehow I got the sense that it wasn’t me he was referring to. That sick feeling settled deeper in my stomach.

“I thought I knew you well enough.” I felt as if the world had been turned upside down. “But every time I get close, you seem to throw up another wall. And if it wasn’t your wife on the phone this morning, then who was it? Who are you saying ‘I love you’ to, the first thing in the morning?”

“I’m not having this conversation with you,” Jack said stubbornly, walking back around his desk and sitting down. The distance between us grew – the desk now representing an insurmountable wall between us.

“You’re the one who summoned me to your office.” I was unable to keep the snark out of my voice. It was better than the tears that seemed to be gathering in my eyes. I wouldn’t cry in front of him. I wouldn’t. “Obviously you wanted to have a conversation about something.”

“I did.” Jack leaned back, trying to look casual, but I could see the tightness in his neck and jaw. He was just as upset as I was, but he wasn’t going to show it. He was going to ignore it. He was going to ignore everything that had happened between us.

“You’re done,” Jack told me.

I blinked at him. “Done?”

“With the book,” he said. It wasn’t a question. “I don’t want you working on it anymore. It was a terrible idea and I never should have hired you.”

Everything inside me seemed to shrink into nothingness.

“What are you saying?” I asked, even though I knew. But I wanted him to say it. I wanted him to have to say it to my face.

He did not disappoint, though he also couldn’t look at me when he said it.

“You’re fired.”