by Marian Tee
“I have no choice,” Christian said tonelessly. “This isn’t going anywhere.”
What was he saying? They had a choice. He had a choice to stay. A choice to fix this, a choice to love her back—-
If you want her so fucking much, then she’s yours—-
Jane whitened as everything suddenly became clear and she realized she had gotten something wrong again. It wasn’t that he had no choice. It was that he had already made up his mind, and he had chosen to leave her.
He had chosen not to love her.
He had chosen to break her.
“But we were so happy,” she heard herself whisper unsteadily. “We were so happy, Christian.” A sob once again tried to claw out of her throat, and she ended up gasping, “Weren’t we?”
His fists clenched at the sound of her voice, everything in him wanting to turn around and just pull her in his arms.
It’s going to be okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up.
But he couldn’t say that. He mustn’t say that.
Because Jane was right: they had been happy, too much so, and that was the fucking problem.
He had never taken a day off work before Jane. He had never made a mistake about work before Jane. He had never put anyone or anything above work before Jane—-
And look where he fucking was now.
“Christian—-”
“No.” He didn’t need to hear anything more. It wouldn’t change anything.
Jane’s tears fell faster at the finality of his voice, and her shoulders began to shake at the strength of her sobs. “Christian, please.”
And he was starting to walk away again.
“Christian, I love you.”
She hadn’t meant to say the words, but the moment they slipped out, she knew—-
She knew she had wanted him to hear it, knew she was being desperate, knew that after this –
There was nothing else she could say or do if he still didn’t choose to stay with her.
Christian closed his eyes.
Christian, I love you.
He heard Jane gasp, and it was only then he realized that his body had moved involuntarily, and his fist had struck the wall with a hard blow. He opened his eyes, and he found himself numb to the sight of his bleeding fist.
He swung around to face her, asking hoarsely, “Did you really think saying those words would be enough to stop me?”
Yes. Oh God, yes. But she couldn’t make herself speak, could only cry harder at the bleak way Christian gazed at her.
“I’ve only had you for over a month in my life, Jane, and look – just take a goddamn second to look, to think about what’s happening. If I don’t find a way to make things right, the information of 20 million H players that I was responsible for keeping confidential would be sold to the highest bidder. If I don’t find a way to fix this, my company could close, and the people who depend on me for their livelihoods would lose their jobs—-”
“A-are you saying,” she asked brokenly, “it’s my fault?”
He shook his head tiredly. “No. Of course not. This was my fault, and I never thought any differently—-”
“Then what are you saying,” Jane demanded painfully.
But Christian only looked at her with eyes that grew bleaker with every moment that passed, and her desperation grew.
“I love you, Christian.” She knew she was being pathetic, but what else was there to say? “Please.” She reached for him—-
Christian stepped back.
Her arm fell, his rejection devastating her. “Please,” she choked out. “Please, Christian. I love you. We can fix this together—-”
“No,” Christian said dully. “We can’t. I know what I’m about to say is a fucking cliché—-” A hollow chuckle escaped him. “But it really is not you. It’s me.”
Her laugh echoed the emptiness in his. “You’re right. It’s a stupid cliché. And I don’t—-”
“Listen.”
She bit her lip hard.
“You say you love me,” Christian said tightly, “and you say I’m pushing you away because you’re getting too close.”
Jane couldn’t help it, whispering, “Because you are—-”
“Then let’s say you’re right. Let’s say I do love you back. Let’s say we do love each other.” Christian inhaled heavily, struggling to keep his emotions under control. “If that’s so, then shouldn’t loving you make me a better person – instead of turning me into this fool suddenly incapable of balancing work and my personal life?”
He looked at her. “Shouldn’t loving me protect you from hurt?”
Listening to him, she finally began to understand what he was saying—-
“And yet I know,” Christian said hoarsely, “I’m hurting you. I know I’m causing you more pain than you deserve. So you tell me, Jane—-”
Their eyes met.
“Is this really love?”
A sob escaped her.
“You understand now,” he asked tonelessly, “don’t you?”
Yes. Yes. She did, and it was killing her.
“Goodbye, Jane.”
He was saying that they might love each other, but it didn’t mean they were right for each other.
“Thank you...for everything.”
She watched Christian reach the door, and this time she didn’t try to stop him. She could only cry and let the tears blur her vision, knowing that the moment she could see clearly again—-
He would be gone.
Chapter Twelve
For a few days, Jane stayed curled up in bed, licking her wounds and drowning herself in self-pity.
He had left her.
He had hurt her.
He had never loved her.
She said this over and over in her mind, but somehow her heart couldn't seem to start hating him and stop loving him. Somehow, her heart insisted on a lot of foolishly hopeful things.
Things like—-
If I try one more time, maybe he’ll listen to me.
If I find a way to help him fix things, maybe he’ll realize he’s wrong.
If I prove to him someone like me can be right for him, maybe he’ll love me back.
And in the end, that was all it took.
It gave Jane the energy to leave her bed, freshen up, and shove food down her throat before making her way to Christian’s office. When she reached reception, she was nervous as hell, thinking that Christian might have already informed his staff about their breakup.
But the receptionist only looked at her with a strained smile. “Good afternoon, Ms. Cooper. The boss has locked himself in the work lab with the I.T. folks, but perhaps you’d like to wait for him in his office?”
Relief struck Jane as she realized that the receptionist appeared unaware of her falling out with Christian. Clearing her throat, she stammered, “If it’s okay, I’d just like to pay a visit to his P.R. department. I might be able to lend a hand in some way.”
“Of course, Ms. Cooper. P.R. is on the third floor, second door to the right, and—-” The receptionist grimaced. “They’re having a crisis right now, so I’m pretty sure you won’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Jane mulled over the woman’s puzzling words as she took the elevator to the third floor. A crisis? Hadn’t the FBI made sure none of Christian’s trouble would be made public? And what about her not missing the P.R. office?
When the doors slid open, however, she knew immediately what the receptionist meant with the latter. Sounds of loud sobbing, punctuated with a little bit of screaming and arguing, filled the hallway, and all of it came from one room.
Jane knocked on the glass door, but it was predictably ignored, the sound swallowed by the chaos inside the office. Taking a deep breath, she pushed the door open and when she stepped in, that was when everyone stopped speaking and turned to stare at her in open-mouthed shock.
They were all so young, Jane realized in surprise. They were completely the opposite of the tough-talking veterans that made up Christian’s busi
ness team or the urbane-looking geniuses working in his I.T. department. The ten or so individuals frozen in front of Jane looked like they had been recruited straight out of college, and a thought occurred to her, causing Jane to hastily fight back a smile.
Oh Christian, your bias is showing.
She knew how much he hated P.R. – he had never made a secret of that. But what she never thought was how he could actually be somewhat childish about it, to the point of only hiring college graduates to make up his public relations team – and with no one clear leader among them.
Jane cleared her throat. “Hello, I’m Jane.”
“Hello.” They answered her simultaneously, like students meeting the school principal for the first time, their apprehension evident in their tones.
It was quite...cute, and despite the seriousness of their situation, Jane couldn’t help smiling a little.
Seeing it, Christian’s P.R. staff allowed themselves to smile back, just a little as well.
“So...I was told there was a crisis?”
The P.R. team nodded.
“Is it about the security breach?”
Everyone looked relieved, and she said gently, “I know everything about it. Agent Thornton of the FBI has explained all the pertinent facts to me.” Of course, she conveniently neglected to inform the P.R. team that it was so because she had initially been considered a suspect.
What they didn’t know wouldn’t hurt them, she told herself, and besides, it wasn’t like she was out to hurt Christian.
“About the crisis then? I might be able to help since I used to work the P.R. team at AMC.”
There was a second of silence, and then everyone started babbling. A picture slowly started to form, and Jane was both shocked and dismayed. Apparently, someone had leaked the security breach to the press, and whoever this was, the person seemed determined to whip the media into a frenzy about the issue.
“And what’s the position Christian wants you guys to take?”
Silence.
She frowned. “Have you at least been given a debriefing of what’s going on?”
Silence.
“When’s the last time Christian spoke to you guys?”
There was a bit of mumbling and looks being exchanged, and then a girl volunteered hesitantly, “Maybe a few months ago? It was our company’s anniversary, and Mr. Ravenhearst told us to keep doing a good job.”
A few months ago? She smiled encouragingly at the staff. “That’s great.”
Nobody smiled back at her.
“Or not so great?”
“We don’t really have much to do,” another girl mumbled, “except answer emails from players messaging customer service.”
Oh.
Jane squared her shoulders. “Well, that’s all going to change. Christian needs you guys more than ever now, so we’ll make sure you have your president’s back. Okay?”
She knew those were pretty big words, but she also knew she had done the right thing when she saw Christian’s P.R. team start losing their frazzled expressions. She could feel their energy levels rising and knew it had come from finally having a sense of purpose and knowing that their efforts were being recognized.
“Let’s get to work then.”
Using AMC’s emergency response plan as a pattern, Jane divided the P.R. team into small groups and gave each one a set of tasks. Soon, it became evident to them that a P.R. disaster was just around the corner, and it would happen if they didn’t act soon.
“Let’s schedule a press conference then,” Jane decided. She knew she might be meddling too much, but she also knew that this was her forte, and Christian, for all his great attributes, was not a people person. His time was better spent in the work lab, where he had been locked in with his I.T. team for days.
“Is there any place in this building we could hold it?”
“There’s the conference room on the second floor,” Matt in the checkered shirt told her eagerly. “No one uses it.”
“Great.” She nodded at Matt. “I’ll leave it to you and your group to make sure the conference room is presentable. Make sure the sound system and the projector works, and prepare some refreshments. Reporters are always nicer when they’re well-fed and you’ve got free-flowing wine.” She turned to Rosie with the pigtails, saying, “You and your group will be responsible for issuing official invitations to the press. And finally—-” Jane gestured to bubblegum-snapping Minnie. “You guys are in charge of creating the media kit, drafting the official statement, and gathering all pertinent facts and figures that we can use during the press con.”
Jane took a deep breath. “Can we finish this by tonight?”
Everyone grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”
A flurry of activity followed as everyone got to work. Their enthusiasm was palpable, their reawakened vigor for work a pleasure to watch. Hours passed, and Jane made sure to order pizza, urging everyone to load up as they went into overtime.
A stray thought drifted into her mind.
What could Christian be doing now?
Would he be happy about what she was doing?
Would he no longer think they were wrong for each other?
Her heart squeezed. She missed him. She really missed him. And before she knew what she was doing, she already had her phone out and she was placing a call to Christian.
Jane heard one ring and then nothing. She frowned and tried to make another call, but the same thing happened. “Umm, guys?”
Christian’s P.R. staff glanced at her questioningly.
“When you say Christian is in lockdown, what exactly does that mean?”
“The lab’s off-limits,” Steven in the overalls said right away. “It’s got high-tech security, and with three sets of doors, no amount of knocking or shouting will make the people inside hear you.”
“What about cellphone signals? Do they jam it or something, so they don’t get interrupted?”
Minnie shook her head. “Calls get through. I used to date someone in I.T. and he still got my texts even when they were in lockdown that time.”
“I tried calling Christian,” Jane revealed reluctantly, “and I’m having a hard time contacting him.”
“Let me try.” Matt whipped his phone out and dialed his boss’ number then put the call on loudspeaker. Christian’s phone rang for several times before automatically diverting to voicemail.
“Oh.” Jane tried calling Christian again, but the same thing happened, with her call being dropped after a single ring. She lowered her phone with a frown. “Maybe something’s wrong with my phone?”
Matt volunteered to try calling her, and Jane’s iPhone started ringing right away.
“Maybe it’s because you guys have different networks,” Rosie suggested. “I’ve got the same network as Ms. Cooper’s. Let me try calling the boss.”
She clicked on loudspeaker after hitting the call button.
A moment later, and Christian’s phone started to ring.
Jane whitened.
Rosie quickly ended the call, stammering, “It must be a fluke.”
Everyone hastened to agree with her.
“It’s nothing to worry about, Ms. Cooper.” But Steven couldn’t look straight into her eyes as he spoke.
She couldn’t really blame him.
They might all work in P.R., but it didn’t mean they were completely tech-illiterate. They all knew when someone’s number had been blocked, and that was exactly what Christian Ravenhearst had done to her.
LOCKDOWN HAD OFFICIALLY ended, and Christian tiredly saw everyone out of the work lab. How many days had they been in here? Four? Five? He had completely lost track of time—-
Jane.
The thought of her registered out of the blue, and he jerked to a stop.
Jane.
It was the longest that he hadn’t seen her, and Christian closed his eyes.
Jane.
During the days he had been in lockdown, he had been able to shove away all thoughts outside work,
knowing what was at stake. But now that it was all over, and his company was no longer under threat of being shut down—-
Jane.
He remembered the last time he had seen her, and his chest constricted. God. She had been crying, and it had been his fault. He had been the one to make her cry, and as he recalled all the things that he had said—-
Jane.
It was like a demon had taken over him that day, and self-loathing filled him as he allowed more memories in. God. He had been so fucking callous with her. Yes, the stakes had been high – his company going south, twenty million Americans’ information compromised, and national security placed in peril. That he had been under stress was a vast understatement, but even so – it hadn’t been reason enough to push her away like that.
Jane.
He took his phone out and tried to call her, but she didn’t pick up. He hesitated for a moment and then thought, Fuck it.
Christian: I’m sorry, Jane. I was an ass. Could we talk?
He hit Send and his iPhone sent out the message. He waited, staring at his screen, but the text only remained delivered but not read. He forced himself to put his phone away. He would try to give it a couple more minutes, but if nothing happened—-
The doors to the lab suddenly burst open, cutting into his thoughts, and Christian frowned when he saw Jared come in, a harsh look on his friend’s face.
“Have you seen the news?” Jared asked abruptly.
“No.”
Without another word, Jared grabbed the remote control from its wall-mounted holder and as soon as the digital screen came to life, he switched to the news channel.
Christian was stunned to see Agent Thornton on live TV, escorting a handcuffed Norman Caruthers. “So he’s really the one behind this,” he realized grimly.
“And yours isn’t the only company he’s targeted apparently.” Jared paused. “Does the name Ray Reiner ring a bell?”
Christian gave his friend a curt nod. “He’s on my I.T. team. He was the one who informed me about the breach.” It was easy enough to add one and one together, and he said tautly, “He hasn’t been to work since I came back. Did Caruthers bribe him?”
