Heart of Ice

by T. B. Markinson

  “Ever since Jack started working with you in here,”

  Marian gestured around the o ce, “I see a new light in your eyes, like I saw in Bonnie’s when you first joined her here all

  those years ago. There’s something special between you and Jack.”

  “No. I’ll never have that again. I see that so clearly now.”

  Marian regarded Laurie in a motherly way. “I think you’re wrong.”

  “A love like I had only strikes once.”

  “There are people walking this planet who have fallen in love twice. Hell, there are a few who have actually been struck by lightning twice and have survived.”

  “Well, not me.” After opening up so much, Laurie felt herself retreating back into her cold, practical shell. “I have to be happy that it happened once. The only thing I care about these days is saving Emerson.”

  Marian shook her head. “That’s not what Bonnie wanted for you.”

  “I guess we’ll never really know.” A knock on the o ce door e ectively ended the conversation, just in time as far as Laurie was concerned. She’d had more than enough opening up to another human for one day. Or year. She rose and hollered, “Come in.”

  Jack poked her head into the room, looking hesitant to enter even after Marian scooted past her and returned to her desk. “Is it all right for me to get back to work? I didn’t want to interrupt.”

  “It’s about time you got back.” Laurie sni ed disapprovingly. She looked at the table where the two of them had spent so much time recently, working together.

  What had Marian said about that light in her eyes? Whatever it was, Laurie rejected it as nonsense. “But I can’t work with your distractions any longer. I want you to clear your stu from the conference table and settle in back at your desk outside so I can finally concentrate.”

  “Oh…” A look of hurt flitted across Jack’s face. “Yes, if that’s what you want.”

  “It is.” Laurie turned around but then whirled back around, nearly toppling over from the exertion. “One more thing. I’ve heard back from Paige McGovern.”

  Jack’s brows scrunched together, her expression morphing to one of trepidation. “And? Has she made a decision on joining the team?”

  “She has, actually.” Laurie waited an extra beat before relieving Jack’s tension. “She’s decided to work with us.”

  “That’s great news.” Jack let out a shaky laugh.

  “It is. It also means I have a special assignment for you every night. Before you leave, you need to print out all the reports from Ms. McGovern’s o ce. You know how I like them. Use the three-ring punch, and then put everything in order inside this.” Laurie plucked a purple binder from the corner of her desk. “I want the reports set right here every night so I can read them when I get in.”

  “I’m not complaining,” Jack’s voice was halting, “but that sounds like an administrative task.”

  “It is, but some of the reports will come in quite late at night.” Laurie’s eyes flickered to the o ce door. Marian was the best assistant she’d ever had and probably the closest thing in the world to a friend. But the woman was getting along in years. The thought of her traveling home alone late at night made Laurie nervous. Assuring herself Marian was out of earshot, she continued. “Marian’s paid by the hour.

  You’re already here late most nights, and you’re salaried, so it doesn’t cost any extra to have you do it.”

  Jack crossed her arms, looking irritated. “I see.”

  “If you don’t think you can manage the task, I could always hire a part-time assistant.”

  “You’d hire an assistant for me?” Jack’s tone hovered somewhere between suspicion and elation.

  “Did you think I meant for you? I meant instead of you.”

  Laurie avoided making eye contact so Jack wouldn’t know

  she was blu ng. There was no way Laurie would be able to manage without Jack on her team, but it’s not like she was going to let that become public knowledge.

  Even without looking, she could feel Jack’s eyes burning into her, and for a moment, Laurie was afraid the woman would call her blu . Instead, she shook her head with what seemed like amusement. “Yes, I can handle that. No problem.”

  “Are you absolutely sure you don’t have any pressing engagements that will interfere with this?” Laurie’s words were crisp, clipped. “I’m not about to lose our shot at Othonos because you have a dinner date for Valentine’s Day.”

  After she said it, Laurie held her breath. She wasn’t sure why she’d mentioned dates, specifically. It wasn’t her business if Jack was involved with anyone. And yet, seeing her at the café with Carmen still rankled.

  Jack tilted her head to one side, seeming surprised at Laurie’s out-of-the-blue accusation. “No. My social calendar is clear.”

  “Good.” Laurie refrained from letting on how relieved she felt at the news. “I need to know I can trust you.

  Completely.”

  “I understand.”

  Did she, though? Did she understand that it tied Laurie up in knots to think of her with Carmen or anyone else? Laurie risked meeting Jack’s eyes, holding her gaze steady. There was something in the young woman’s pensive expression that made Laurie think she understood after all.

  If she did understand, Laurie sure wished Jack could explain it to her, because this bitter jealousy was like nothing she’d ever felt before, and it left her both mystified and guilt-ridden. Why had she never felt this agony with Bonnie? If it had been nothing more than the hubris of

  youth, believing Bonnie to be so smitten with her that she would never have been tempted to stray, that was one thing.

  But what if it meant Laurie hadn’t cared enough? Maybe it meant she didn’t know how to love at all.

  Not wanting to think about it any longer, Laurie flipped around, marching to her desk. “Don’t forget to grab your stu from the table on the way out. I need space to think.”

  Stay, she wanted to call out the moment she heard the shu ing of papers being gathered from the table. It took everything Laurie had not to tell Jack to stop. She’d reacted irrationally about what was essentially an innocent co ee date that was none of Laurie’s business anyway, plus it made more sense for Jack to continue working at the conference table. That way they could work together every second of the day. Which was exactly the reason Laurie had to let her go.

  C H A P T E R F O U R T E E N

  “JACK, GET IN HERE!”

  Jack balled her hands into fists to keep herself from screaming. Four and a half weeks. It had been four and a half weeks since Laurie had banished her from the conference table. At the time it had happened, Jack had been terrified she was going to get replaced. Now, she sometimes wondered if getting sacked would’ve been a blessing.

  Being a numbers person, Jack had started keeping track of how often her boss bellowed for her to drop everything and come running. It averaged once every seven minutes. The worst had been a particularly grueling sixteen-hour day when she had made one hundred and thirty-seven round trips. Did they have world records for that sort of thing? If so, Jack was pretty sure she deserved recognition.

  At least I still have a job, she chanted in her head as she shoved her chair back.

  Marian

  o ered

  Jack

  a

  tight-lipped

  smile

  of

  commiseration as Jack scurried past, clutching her tablet, phone, and the requisite yellow legal pad, in case Laurie was in the mood to go old school with the notes. Because after all, wasn’t it so much more e cient for Jack to scribble everything down on paper so that she could type it up again later and then print it out, enlarged to 125%, so the stubborn

  she-devil she worked for wouldn’t have to buy a pair of five-dollar glasses from the local drugstore? It wouldn’t have surprised Jack if Laurie started insisting they do their daily brainstorming sessions in cuneiform on clay tablets, just to piss her o .
r />   Laurie had already launched into her latest diatribe well before Jack made it to her customary post at the side of the desk. It was a position where, if she tilted her head to one side, it was possible to see Laurie’s screens without getting too close and invading her personal space. These requirements hadn’t been a directive, per se, but Jack had su ered a lot of evil glances and frustrated sighs before hitting on this location. She’d been tempted to mark the spot on the floor with tape in case she forgot.

  Gone were the days of ping-pong and Chinese takeout.

  Well, technically it had only been a single day, which had ended with Jack’s bra flying o and Laurie’s mouth on her nipple, so all in all, it was probably better there hadn’t been more days like that. Both had their walls up now, for sure, and like it or not, no matter how much easier it would be if they had a more easygoing rapport, Jack knew why hers had to remain firmly locked in place. Quite simply, she didn’t want to lose her job. Sure, there were complications coming out the wazoo, not to mention Laurie’s prickly personality, but Emerson Management was one of the top companies in the country, and Jack was reporting directly to the CEO.

  When it came to a career in finance, that was like being drafted into the major leagues.

  As for what had motivated Laurie’s emotional withdrawal, Jack wasn’t entirely certain. The most likely answer lay somewhere between a sense of propriety and doubt. As Jack’s boss, Laurie would definitely be aware of the legal and ethical implications of pursuing a relationship with a subordinate. And she’d already made it clear, multiple

  times, that she didn’t think the match had a future for so many reasons, not least of which was the di erence in their ages.

  Though it seemed preposterous, sometimes Jack wondered if jealousy over her relative youth played a role.

  Admittedly, it was a stretch. Laurie Emerson had everything.

  She was the head of her own trillion-dollar financial firm.

  She was gorgeous and brilliant, the type of business superstar who flitted from private islands to penthouses and mansions. Jack was a worker bee, always doing the queen’s bidding and ceaselessly trying to get back into her favor, stuck forever living in her mother’s apartment in South Boston.

  A mother who, coincidentally, had recently returned from her lengthy stay in Ireland. Between her made-up stories and her hypochondria, her mother was probably already coming up with a whole list of inventive ways to make Jack wish she lived on the other end of town.

  Jack groaned inwardly, or at least she thought that was what she’d done, except the moment it happened, Laurie’s head jerked up, their eyes locking. Jack tried to cover the inappropriate noise she’d made by pretending to yawn.

  “Am I boring you?”

  “Of course not.” Yawning had not been the right choice, not by a long shot. “I’m a little short on sleep.”

  “I suppose you think that’s my fault, for working you too hard,” Laurie snapped.

  “I didn’t say that.” Jack’s stomach knotted. It seemed, these days, every conversation rode this fine line, always teetering on the edge of an argument. Their stilted relationship would damage their chance of landing the Othonos account if Jack wasn’t careful, wrecking any chance for gaining the recognition she deserved, or the larger paycheck she needed to move out of her mother’s house. All

  her life’s ambitions hung on her ability to make nice with the boss. But before she could say the right thing to smooth it all over, Jack’s phone vibrated.

  “Am I interrupting important business, Ms. Kennedy?”

  Ms. Kennedy? That was new, and Jack was under no illusions the title was meant to convey respect. Everything about her boss, from her expression to her voice, felt like the sharp point of an icicle pressed against Jack’s vulnerable flesh.

  Swallowing hard, Jack snuck a glance at the screen, suppressing a groan. It was her mother. She’d been back from her trip less than twenty-four hours and already she was calling Jack at work like she’d been asked a thousand times not to do. Jack dismissed the call. “I thought it might be Andy with an update from Paige McGovern. That’s all.”

  “If you can take a look at this chart, here”—Laurie pointed to her screen—“there’s something wrong with the fourth quarter numbers. I need you to run that again.”

  “Of course. Did you want me to…” Jack temporarily lost track of her sentence as the phone in her pocket vibrated again. She didn’t check it but fumbled for words until the noise subsided. “Uh, to break out the figures for the microloan performance on the other chart by country?”

  “By country?”

  Instantly, Jack realized her mistake. The chart already showed that information. “No, not country. I meant by gender of the recipient.”

  “You’re very distracted today.” Laurie’s eyes became narrow slits as Jack’s phone vibrated for a third time. “And important, apparently. Is the UN trying to reach you to weigh in with your plan for world peace or something?”

  Jack grabbed her phone and turned it o completely. “I’m really sorry. It’s my mother.”

  The sharpness in Laurie’s eyes mellowed somewhat at this revelation. “Isn’t she in Ireland?”

  “She got back last night.” Jack stifled a yawn, a real one this time. “The flight was late and one of her bags got misplaced, so I was up much later than planned getting her home from the airport.”

  “Does she always interrupt your workday like this when she’s home?” The look on Laurie’s face made it clear the answer had better be no.

  “She’s jet-lagged and a little needy today,” Jack assured her, while contemplating whether she’d need to buy a burner phone with a secret number to escape her mother’s harassment.

  “Will you still be working until your usual time?”

  Jack hesitated. Was this a trick question? Laurie’s tone held no cues, leaving it up to Jack to decipher whether something was bothering her or what precisely she needed.

  This morning, her boss’s mood had seemed even more mercurial than usual, but Jack had so far been unable to isolate the cause. Then again, each new day seemed to bring with it a new low, to the point that Jack had begun to fear Laurie’s di cult behavior didn’t have a bottom. How long could Jack continue to work for a woman with a frozen heart?

  “Jack?”

  Oops, she’d yet to answer. “Yeah, same old same old, as far as I’m concerned. Why?”

  “Andy’s meeting with Paige this evening, which means her team will send the report later than usual. I’ll be leaving for a meeting this afternoon that I can’t miss, so it’s vital that you stay until it’s compiled.”

  “I’ll be here.” Jack bit back the urge to point out that she hadn’t made a single mistake on the purple binder and demand to know why tonight would be any di erent.

  “Close my door on the way out,” Laurie directed by way of dismissal.

  Laurie hadn’t given a reason, but Jack didn’t care. She did as she was told, breathing a sigh of relief as the latch clicked shut. A closed door meant a temporary break from popping out of her seat every seven minutes as if she was a jack-in-the-box with Laurie winding her crank like an overzealous preschooler.

  Before she had a chance to sit down, her desk phone rang.

  Without looking at the caller ID, she answered, “Jack Kennedy.”

  “I think I’m dying.”

  “Hi, Mom.” Jack shut her eyes, wondering why the universe was against her. “You know I’m at work, right?”

  “You weren’t picking up your phone. I called three times.”

  “Yeah. In a row.” Jack kept her tone steady. Anger didn’t get her very far with her mother. “While I was in a meeting.”

  “I thought your phone might’ve been broken,” her mother answered defensively, “so I tried your work line.”

  For the love of God. “Remember when I explained you can’t call that number unless it’s an emergency?”

  “What part of my dying isn’t an emergency?”
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br />   Jack cradled the phone between her chin and shoulder as she pounded away on her keyboard, not wanting to disappoint Laurie in getting the data she needed. Besides, the clock was ticking. Even with the door closed, there was still a chance she’d be summoned in a little under six minutes. Jack wondered if she should get a shot clock like in basketball, counting down the seconds for the o ense to shoot for the hoop.

  “Jack?” Her mother’s pitch had shot up two octaves, minimum.

  “Look, Mom, I seriously doubt you’re—”

  “Stop typing! My throat. It keeps closing. I think I’m in anaphylactic shock.”

  Yet, you’re able to yell at me just fine.

  Jack took a deep breath and willed herself to remain calm.

  “Do you remember the time you were absolutely convinced you’d chipped a piece of bone in your ankle, and it had entered your bloodstream and was heading for your heart?”

  “I’d taken a bad fall.”

  “You tripped and caught yourself before you hit the ground.”

  “I hit it on the table leg hard enough to see stars.”

  “Yes, I remember that’s what you said at the time. Yet after five hours in the ER, the doctor said it wasn’t even sprained. He gave you an ice pack and two Tylenol.”

  “You can never be too careful,” her mom hu ed.

  “Yes, which is how we also ended up at the hospital that time you swore you’d contracted meningitis and had brain fluids leaking from your nose. Diagnosis: headache. I believe you got an ice pack and two Tylenol again that time, if I’m not mistaken.”

  “Okay, okay. I get it. You don’t care.”

  “I do care, Mom, but I think you should try an ice pack and two Tylenol and cut out the ER middle man.”

  “But it’s my throat!”

  “Have a cup of tea. It’ll ease the dryness.”

  “It’s not dryness. It’s closing up on me.”

  “Every time you fly, you have a sore throat for a couple of days. It always goes away. You’re absolutely fine and not dying.” I wouldn’t be that lucky. She pinched her eyes, regretting that thought, but between her mom and Laurie, Jack wasn’t sure how much longer she could take the crazy without losing her shit.