by Jayce Ellis
Tanisha had opted to stay at the house after Thanksgiving instead of going back to campus, and while he was always glad to have her home, she’d changed. Gone was the excited, happy-about-life girl he’d raised, and in her place was someone who smiled, pushed through, but didn’t have the same joy. It was easy, almost too easy, to blame it on the breakup with Angela, but he didn’t think that told the whole story. Especially since he’d noticed more than one rejected phone call from an “A” in Tanisha’s phone. He’d see the name light up, watch the pain flash in T’s eyes, and then watch her pound that “decline” button with more vigor than it probably deserved. Jaq had tried to gently prod, but she wasn’t talking and he wasn’t pushing. He wanted to, especially given the situation with Matt, but Gran’s stern face told him, as she routinely had over the past four months, to leave it alone.
He chuckled aloud as he made his way down the dark hallway into the kitchen. When Tanisha had first gone off to college, it had been Jaq protesting her living away from home, while Gran wanted her to spread her wings. Now she was home, and Jaq kinda wanted her to go back to campus. Something to prove she was irrevocably changed. That his girl who’d been so excited to get away wasn’t lost forever.
Jaq made his coffee and went back to his office, checking his messages for updates. Nothing besides the usual status reports. Nothing from Matt. And why would there be, when Jaq’d basically taken weeks of time spent getting to know each other and thrown them away after forty-eight hours with Matt’s family. During the last few days before major launches, when he knew shit at Matt’s job wasn’t entirely on the up-and-up. The more he thought about it, the worse he sounded. Even if he would’ve still left to come back home—highly likely—he could, and should, have handled it better. And now that Matt’s role in this launch was done, Jaq didn’t know when he’d see Matt again. Hell, Jaq didn’t even know where he lived.
Eventually, the rest of the lights came on as other members of the team arrived. And, as usual, Patti came in closer to ten, the start time for their meetings now that they weren’t on the deadline from hell. Everyone situated themselves around the table, Patti nearly bouncing out of her chair in excitement.
“Okay, first things first,” Jaq started. “We need to go over the sales figures for the three launches we’ve had.”
Patti couldn’t contain herself any longer. “Yeah, okay, but before we get to this, Bernhardt called and wants two more collections next year.”
Cheers and applause went up around the conference room, and Jaq stood and pulled Patti into a hug. “That’s amazing,” he said. “I knew you could do it.”
“We did it. All of us, everyone in here, made this happen, and I could not work with a better group of people.”
The meeting went off the rails after that, discussing Bernhardt’s ideas, plans, how they’d be managed, everything. They’d have more time, and could finally look for a replacement for Laurel. The holiday collection had come through in such a short time, but while they’d busted their asses to get it together and took tremendous pride in how it had turned out, it’d lacked the same time, the same space for a vision to cultivate, and now, they’d turn out something even more tremendous.
On top of Bernhardt, every other store they’d launched with wanted another collection. Enough to keep them busy for the next two, close to three years. Kingsley Enterprises was in it for the long haul.
When the meeting finally died down, now well behind schedule, Patti turned to him. “Can we go talk in my office?”
That was only slightly foreboding. Talking in Patti’s office meant she was going to put on her business owner hat, and while Jaq couldn’t imagine that being a problem, he was still intrigued by what she had to say to him that she couldn’t say in front of their team.
They took their seats and Patti blew out a long breath before she began. “I know I’m difficult to work with.”
“No shit.”
She paused midsentence, mouth open, then reached across the table and popped him on the arm. “You’re supposed to be nice to me. I’m your boss.”
Jaq shrugged. “My apologies, boss.” He could barely keep from laughing.
Patti didn’t bother, letting loose a boisterous guffaw before settling in. Good. That slight reprieve seemed to have calmed her, which was what he wanted. For whatever reason, what she was about to tell him made her nervous.
“Jaq, I’m a mess. My leadership style is nonexistent, my instructions contradict each other from one day to the next, I’m neurotic, I have ideas in the middle of the night and call you to discuss them, and you have been nothing but patient and understanding and amazing. Thank you.”
The praise was unexpected, maybe a touch uncomfortable, but he liked it. “It’s my pleasure, Patti. You know that.”
“I know you say that, but believe me when I say there is no way this project gets this kind of a launch without your guidance. You’re more than an assistant to me. And you’re more than an assistant to this team.”
Jaq swallowed hard. The words were heartfelt, things you wished to hear from a boss you admired, and not ones that, if he was being honest, he ever expected to hear. He looked up at Patti and smiled. “That means a lot to me, Patti.”
“Well,” she said, a grin curving her face, “words are nice, but in this society, money is nicer. And perhaps a change in position. Or at least in title.”
His heart caught in his throat, and he had to swallow twice before responding. “What do you mean?”
“I mean it’s time to give you the raise you’ve long since earned. I’m promoting you to executive director of marketing and brands.”
He blinked. “You’re doing what now?”
Patti laughed. “You’ve been my right-hand man. And you’ve been it with a title that made you seem like nothing more than an elevated gofer. You do more than that for me. You do more than that for the company. Everyone here relies on you. We don’t function without you. And besides, the position comes with a bit of a raise.”
She slid a sheet of paper across the table and Jaq snagged it with trembling fingers. He opened it and closed his eyes. Mother of god. The number she had listed here was life-changing. He could pay down his mom’s mortgage. He could help Tanisha more with the expenses not covered by her scholarships. He could move out. At thirty-five years old, for the first time, he might be in a position to move out of his mother’s house.
He opened his eyes and found Patti beaming across from him. “Patti, are you sure about this?”
“JaQuan,” she said, “this is the easiest decision I’ve ever made. Say yes?”
“Yes.” He paused. “But who’s going to take care of you?”
She laughed, the sound light and airy. “You are, of course. Why do you think the raise is so damn much?”
Jaq joined her before heading back to his office. The hours, the headaches, the scrambling to make new arrangements when Laurel left, had all been worth it in the end.
Except for Matt. That had gone straight to shit, but he’d worry about it later. Over liquor.
He opened his phone and found a message from an unknown number. What the hell? That never happened. He frowned and opened it.
JaQuan, with my daughter’s assistance I was able to procure your number from Matthew’s phone. Please contact me. I think I can assist you with your issue with him. Diane Donaldson
Jaq stared at the message for a few seconds before he smiled and sat back. Maybe he could make things right with Matt after all.
* * *
Matt walked into the office at oh-dark-thirty, and the overnight security guard looked more than a little displeased at having to feign professionalism when he approached the doors. Matt couldn’t blame him. He wouldn’t want to work at this time either.
Still, he gave the older man a tired smile and used his keycard to activate the elevators to get to his floor. He walked down
the hall and to his office. And sighed.
In the week since the launches had gone off, he’d been asked to hand-hold more companies, the exact opposite of what his job was supposed to now be, and frankly, he was tired. He was tired of having to fill in, having to cover everyone’s ass, tired of always being the bad guy. Especially since Steven now had his own brand to manage, Matt was completely going it alone. Again.
He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He hadn’t tried to reach out to Jaq outside of a few text messages in the days following his return to DC, to make sure Tanisha was recovering well. Oh, he’d been determined on the drive up, but the longer he’d thought about it, the more he wavered.
Jaq needed more than words. He needed to see actions, to see that Matt was serious about Jaq, about his own family, about his priorities. Reality is, you didn’t show up, no matter how much you say you wanted to.
Jaq was right. Matt would lose everything he cared about, even with the best intentions otherwise, unless he did something now, and as he looked around his office, he was at peace.
Matt was done with Bernhardt. He didn’t know what or where his next step was, but he couldn’t play this game anymore. He’d lost the first person he loved. For a long time he feared he’d lost his children. It might be too late with Jaq, but Matt had to try. The thought of losing him too—he refused to let the thought take root; the idea was too suffocating.
He sat and powered up the computer to check his emails. Nothing major, because he’d stayed up late every night the past week taking care of those—his reward for two not-quite days off. He went to his hard drive. Over decades, he was sure he’d accumulated more than his fair share of personal files, primarily photos of the kids Di would email him before texting was a thing. He popped in his flash drive and transferred them all over, then scoured the rest to make sure nothing else personal was remaining. He went through the emails and did the same thing, then leaned against the chair and ran a hand over his face.
A sour feeling swirled in his gut. He’d been one of the lucky ones, staying in the same job his entire career. He’d started at Bernhardt in college, had gone through at least three major restructurings, and had made it his goal to stay the course. And now, at the non-urging of a gorgeous man with a stunning smile and the biggest heart Matt had ever borne witness to, he was leaving it behind. It was almost disgustingly sappy.
Matt checked his watch. If he knew Nichole, she’d be upstairs by now. He put all his personal belongings in a box, in case he didn’t have time to leave on his own terms. He’d be damned if he did a perp walk out of the building with security guards following him.
The trek to her office was quiet, almost like the birds knew what was coming and refused to even chirp until he was done. He rapped on her door. “It’s Matt, Nicki.”
Muffled steps grew louder, then the door opened. Nichole stood there in her suit, barefoot, her shoes kicked off with total disregard. She looked down and then up at him. “What? You think I actually wear those things all day? They hurt like hell.” She snickered and turned, going back to her desk.
Matt followed and sat opposite her. She put on some semblance of her game face, but it was clear she wasn’t in the mood to pretend this early in the morning either. “What’s up? What’re you doing here so early?”
He opened his mouth, and words fled. Matt’s shoulders slumped and everything he’d practiced fell by the wayside, replaced by nothing but raw truth. He massaged the bridge of his nose. “I can’t do this anymore, Nicki.”
She sucked in a breath. “What do you mean?”
“I’m leaving. Effective end of the year.” He kept talking, ignoring the way her mouth dropped open. “I missed Thanksgiving dinner consoling a designer who was afraid their seventh launch would fail, and my boyfriend decided he wants no part of it. I can’t keep going like this. Diane already left me. This job isn’t worth losing someone else.”
Nichole blinked at him. “You’re gay?”
Matt cocked his head. “What part of married to Di for twenty-five years makes you think I’m gay?”
She at least had the decency to blush. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just...you talked about your boyfriend and that’s all I heard. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged. “When would it have been relevant to mention? And that’s really what you took from my little speech? Not the fact that I’m quitting?”
She groaned. “No, I heard that. I wish I hadn’t, but I did and I understand.” She stretched her neck back, then rolled it in both directions, before taking a deep, intentional breath and releasing it. “I shouldn’t have given you Kingsley, and I shouldn’t have made my job issues your responsibility.”
Matt didn’t know how to respond. His initial inclination was to dismiss the apology as unnecessary, but he stopped himself. Nichole was right—she should’ve given the project to someone else, and her job wasn’t his problem.
But if she hadn’t, Jaq would have stayed a voice on the phone, a figment of his imagination that stayed locked exactly there. While the apology was appreciated, his anger was muted. In all honesty, her insistence—her trust—was the best thing to happen to him.
“Nicki, I really appreciate you acknowledging that. But what does it have to do with my separating from Bernhardt?” The more he said it, the more comfortable the words felt on his tongue. He was really leaving, and he was fucking happy about it.
Nichole grinned, even though she wasn’t really looking at him. “I gave my notice three days ago.”
Matt’s mouth gaped open. “You what?”
She laughed and it was a joyous sound. “One of my old accounts reached out. They want someone in-house to help negotiate bigger contracts because their guy is retiring. It’s a pay cut, but way better hours and time to... I don’t know, breathe.”
Well, shit. “When were you going to tell me?”
At least she looked chagrined. “Not soon enough, and that’s my bad too.” She ran her hand over her face, like she didn’t care about ruining her makeup at all. “I just needed something different.”
“I understand. I truly do.” It was a large factor in his decision, too. “But what happens to the accounts?” What happens to Kingsley? He’d seen the communications to them seeking more collections, and he needed to know they’d be in good hands if he wasn’t there. Which was maybe masochistic, but he’d grown to enjoy spending time with them, even if they were a little quirky. He needed to know Steven wouldn’t be able to schmooze his way in to get their account, not after the way he’d tried to kill their launch.
“I pulled in someone from another department to take over mine. We need to do a search for someone acceptable to take over yours.”
Yeah, they could do that. Matt had expected to have to explain himself, to defend his decision, and he’d tried to mentally prepare for it. That he didn’t have to was a relief.
Until Nichole really focused on him. “I’ve been talking for a few weeks about my new position. I assume you’ve got something lined up for your next stage?”
He chuckled hoarsely. “No, not really.”
She raised a brow. “Bold, Matt, but I understand.” She looked off to the side, out the windows as the world started to waken and natural light filtered through. “Think about it. You’re too good to not get another job, and fast, but do it on your own terms.”
The thought of working side by side with Jaq long-term swam to the fore, and he sucked in a breath. It was a pipe dream to be sure, but he liked the idea of Jaq getting on his ass and making him go home at a decent time, falling asleep with Spitfire sprawled across them, encouraging him to strengthen his relationship with all of his family, including Di. He wasn’t ready to let go.
But Nichole was, so he said his goodbyes and headed back to his office. The apprehension he’d felt earlier was replaced by an almost uncontainable excitement, and he was eager to move o
n. Now he needed to see if Jaq still wanted to be part of that future.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Carlton: you guys up to hang out?
Jaq’s answer was nearly immediate.
Me: God, yes, please. When? Where?
Lawrence’s reply came in more slowly, but it was the same. They made plans to meet at the coffee shop, and Jaq clicked off the phone to get ready. The drive over was quick and uneventful, and he found himself in line staring at the same young man—Vance, if he remembered correctly—who had served them the last time they’d been here, a few months before.
“Hey, man. How’s it going?” he asked with a grin.
“I’m good, thank you.” The words were quiet. Stilted. “What can I get you?”
Well, that wasn’t quite as enthusiastic as Jaq had anticipated, but whatever. He ordered his drink and stood to the side while the young man went about his business. The door opened behind him and Lawrence strolled in. When Vance looked up and met his eyes, his face tightened. He sucked in a harsh breath, looked down, paused, then went back to work.
“Hey, man. Good to see you,” Lawrence said, focusing on Jaq. He looked like he was studiously avoiding Vance, and Jaq was pretty sure he didn’t want to know the reasons why.
Jaq held out his hand and Lawrence pulled him in for a one-armed hug. “Same. You hear from Carlton?”
Lawrence shook his head. “No, but I’m sure he’s right behind me. He was the one who asked to come out.”
For sure. Lawrence ordered and Jaq watched him. Vance was polite, deferential, professional, nothing like the flirt he’d been before. But Lawrence kept wincing, clearing his throat, looking everywhere but at Vance. What the hell had happened there? Lawrence got his drink and they sat at the same table as before in a semi-comfortable silence. Lawrence was always so collected, but he kept darting his eyes to the register and the man standing behind it. It was no secret Vance had been into him, but Jaq’d thought Lawrence wasn’t interested. Now he wasn’t so sure.
