by Tawna Fenske
“Get thirsty?”
“Right.” Miriam shifted the bottle under her arm and tried not to look too guilty. “So it was nice meeting you—”
“Ellie.”
“Ellie, right. Have a good night. Tell Jason I said hello. Or not. Or—actually, I guess I’ll see him at work.”
With her cheeks flaming and her gut boiling with a toxic blend of hurt and anger, Miriam turned and stalked down the steps.
Chapter Five
Jason watched from across the boardroom table as Miriam stacked a pile of papers that clearly did not need stacking. She was smiling, but the furrow between her brows looked like someone had chopped it into her forehead with a hatchet.
“Well, I believe we’ve made some excellent progress here today,” she announced with what seemed like forced cheer, making eye contact with everyone around the table.
Well, everyone but him.
Hell, she’d barely spoken to him the whole meeting, except for the occasional business-only conversation about ad campaigns and design concepts. She’d been professional enough, but definitely nothing more.
That’s what you agreed to, dumbass. Remember?
Beside him, the accounting director shifted in his seat. “So you think these dollar figures are a solid estimate of the cost of moving forward?” Rex flipped a page on one of the handouts Miriam had presented at the start of the meeting.
“I do,” she said, resting a manicured hand beside her laptop. “This sort of rebranding effort doesn’t come cheaply, but I’m certain you’ll find—”
“I’m sorry, but our board of directors will never go for it.” Rex frowned and looked at Jason. “I know you’ve been lobbying them to take a shot with a campaign of this magnitude, but given the last round of financials we were presented, I’m not sure the time is right.”
Rex’s words hung in the air between them, and Jason filled in the blanks on his own. He knew what the tight-ass accounting director was referring to. They’d both been in the meeting Monday morning, and Jason had fought like hell to convince the board that moving forward with the plan to lay off two hundred employees wasn’t the best course of action. Not yet, anyway.
Across the table, Miriam opened her mouth to respond, but Jason beat her to it. “Actually, Rex, what I took from Monday’s meeting with the board is that they’re open to hearing creative solutions to the current financial challenges.” He glanced at Miriam, who met his gaze with an unreadable expression. He turned back to Rex and tapped the mock-up of a logo concept he’d found particularly clever. “I think what Ms. Ashley and Ms. Colvin have just shown us here is creativity at its finest.”
From the corner of his eye, he saw Miriam shift in her seat. He looked back to see her cheeks looked faintly flushed and she was watching him with a guarded expression.
“Thank you,” she said tightly. “And as we’ve shown you from the case studies we presented from other First Impressions clients, we have a proven track record of helping clients make great financial strides with a few changes in the overall marketing approach.”
Rex sighed. “Be that as it may, the Urban Trax board of directors is concerned about the bottom line.”
“I’m concerned about the bottom line as well,” Jason agreed. “But I’m also concerned with the bottom line for our employees. With our commitment to them and their families.”
“Likewise.” Miriam stared at Jason from across the table. “Few things in the world are more important than commitment and loyalty to family.”
Jason nodded, surprised by the passion in her voice, but glad they were on the same page. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Rex frowned but said nothing. Jason watched as Miriam and Holly exchanged a look he couldn’t quite read. The two women seemed to have a shared language all their own, which probably explained why they ran such a successful business together.
“Well,” Holly said, taking charge of the meeting again. “It sounds like the Urban Trax executive team has a lot to discuss. We’re already over our allotted time, so we won’t keep you any longer.”
Miriam nodded and closed her laptop. “If you have any questions about what we’ve presented here today, please don’t hesitate to reach out.”
Again, Jason couldn’t help but notice she was avoiding his eyes. Was it normal post-grope awkwardness? Was she playing it cool? They’d agreed to pretend the kiss never happened, but what was going on here seemed like something more.
Ellie had told him Miriam stopped by to drop off the gloves, and he’d been bummed to miss her. “She’s pretty,” his kid sister had said, grinning like she had in grade school when she found out he had a crush on a girl. “I tried to get her to come in and hang out until you got back, but she didn’t want to wait around for your sorry ass.”
So that’s the way it had to be between them. It made sense, but Jason couldn’t pretend to like it. He’d been trying like hell to forget that kiss for the last four days. Maybe Miriam had had better luck with that than he had.
Around the table, the other executives were beginning to stand up and stuff papers into briefcases. Rex seemed intent on ignoring Jason, but the marketing director, Pete Marshall, gave him a nod. “Do you need a ride back to the office?”
“Nah, I biked here,” Jason said. “You go on ahead. I want to stay a minute longer to go over some of the ad concepts with Holly and Miriam.”
“Actually, Holly has another meeting scheduled in here,” Miriam said with a glance at her business partner. Holly gave what looked like a sympathetic head tilt before Miriam turned back to Jason.
Her eyes were bright and a little wary, but at least she was looking at him now. “We can talk in my office,” she offered.
“I’d like that.”
Miriam nodded, not echoing the sentiment, but not arguing, either. They both stood up and gathered their things, Miriam moving with crisp efficiency. She headed for the door, and Jason followed, admiring the sway of her hips and the gloss of those dark curls. He remembered the feel of those curls tangled around his fingers, and he ordered himself to stop ogling her.
She rounded a corner into an office, so Jason followed and sat when she gestured him to a straight-backed chair in front of her desk. She pushed her door shut behind him, then turned and plugged in an electric teakettle. He watched in silence as she went about making a pot of tea, arranging a handful of fancy-looking cookies onto a plate, filling a delicate little creamer from a milk carton in the mini-fridge, then carrying the whole thing on a tray to her desk.
She set the small feast on the surface between them, centering the little tray of cookies in the middle of her desk before setting a thin china plate in front of him. She poured each of them some tea in a flowery cup that looked like it was made for a dollhouse.
Finally, she took a seat on the other side of her desk. She looked at him for a few beats and Jason felt the same prickly-skin sensation he used to have when he got summoned to the principal’s office in middle school.
“So,” she said, breaking the silence at last. “Commitment to family is important to you.”
“That’s right,” he said slowly, not sure whether he was supposed to pick up a cookie or just admire them. “I appreciate you underscoring that just now in the meeting.”
“Of course.” Her voice was oddly brittle, and her green eyes flashed with something he couldn’t quite read. “There’s nothing in the world more important to me than loyalty.”
“Good,” Jason said, not sure why they were rehashing this point. “I may be new to Urban Trax, but as CEO, it’s my duty to protect our employees. To look out for their well-being and security.”
“I see.” Miriam steepled her hands together on the desk in front of her as she stared at him with ice in her eyes. “So at what point were you planning to tell me you have a wife and kid?”
“Oh.” A lightbulb flashed in the back of his brain, and he leaned back in his chair, glad to have this out in the open at last. “Well, I guess never. Since I don
’t actually have a wife and kid.”
She narrowed her eyes. “What?”
He laughed, so relieved to realize what all the hostility was about that he didn’t care that her frown deepened at the bark of his laughter. “Ellie,” he said, shaking his head a little as the puzzle pieces clicked together. “You’re talking about Ellie?”
“That’s right,” she said slowly, sounding less sure of herself now. “And your son, Henry?”
“If Henry were my son, this would be a conversation for Jerry Springer.” He laughed again, then scooped his teacup into his palm and took a fortifying slurp. “Henry’s my nephew. Ellie is my sister.”
“Your sister,” she repeated, looking as stunned as he’d felt just a few seconds ago. “And your nephew.” Miriam closed her eyes and covered her face with her hands. “God, now I feel like an idiot.”
“Don’t,” he said, setting the teacup down. He was still grinning as he shoved a cookie into his mouth and chewed, dropping crumbs down the front of his shirt. Miriam uncovered her face and he offered her a sympathetic smile. “To be fair,” he said. “I never mentioned them to you.”
“Why on earth not?” she asked, her gaze flickering to the cookie crumbs on his shirt before returning to his face. “We were in the car together for a long time on Saturday. You might have mentioned that you live with your sister and her kid.”
“Technically, they live next door. I own both sides of the duplex, and you just happened to knock on their door instead of mine.”
“Okay,” she said with exaggerated patience. “Still, it seems like something you might have mentioned. We talked about a lot of other things on Saturday.”
He shrugged and brushed cookie crumbs off the front of his shirt before licking the buttery residue off his finger. “I guess I’m a little protective of them. Of their privacy. Henry was diagnosed with leukemia eighteen months ago—”
“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”
“Thank you. Anyway, it’s been a long battle, but he’s in the early stages of remission now. Partial remission, they call it. He’s not out of the dark, but it’s looking promising.” He reached for another cookie. “The whole process has been really hard for Ellie and for Henry. Ellie’s a single mom, and she had a bad experience with a sitter watching him one night she had to work.”
“What happened?”
“They were roughhousing a little and they dislodged his PICC line—the dedicated catheter they use for delivering chemo drugs? Everything turned out fine, but it was scary for everyone.”
“I can imagine.”
“Anyway, that was the straw that broke the camel’s back as far as I was concerned. After that, I kinda stopped trusting anyone else to watch Henry, so I took this job and we moved out here and now Ellie gets to stay with him all the time.”
“Wow,” she said, her green eyes brimming with compassion. “You sound like a very dedicated brother. And uncle.”
“I am,” he said, though he knew Ellie would probably say “overprotective” instead of “dedicated.” Not that she didn’t tell him every day how grateful she was, but he also knew she felt smothered sometimes.
Jason cleared his throat, not wanting to dwell on that. “Anyway, I guess I’m a bit guarded about sharing too much of their story. I tend to shield them a little, to give them some privacy after all they’ve been through. That’s why I didn’t bring it up earlier.”
“No, of course. I understand totally.” She grimaced, shaking her head. “I mean I can’t relate, of course—what a horrible thing to go through. But I can understand why you might be protective.”
Jason nodded and took another swig of tea, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Thanks. Anyway, sorry for the misunderstanding.”
“No, I’m sorry—I should have asked questions instead of just assuming you were some sort of cheating jerk.”
He grinned. “I might be a jerk, but never a cheating one.”
“That’s good to know.” Miriam picked up her own teacup, her fingers delicate and graceful on the little handle. She took a small sip, then returned the cup to its saucer before speaking again. “I lost my dad a year ago. It wasn’t cancer, and obviously he wasn’t a child, but I think I can relate a little bit to the kind of worry you feel when someone you love has a major medical crisis. To the constant sense of fear and anxiety you feel in that situation.”
Jason watched her, touched by the realization that she probably didn’t share this story with everyone. That she’d chosen to tell him seemed to say something, though he wasn’t totally sure what. “How did he die?” Jason asked softly. “If you don’t mind me asking, that is.”
“No, it’s okay.” Miriam set her teacup down and folded her hands on her desk again. “Mountain climbing. He’d just summited Middle Sister over in the Cascade Range when he fell into a crevasse and—”
She broke off there, not needing to finish the sentence. As Jason knew all too well, those kinds of falls were almost always deadly, especially in Oregon’s unforgiving Cascades.
“I’m so sorry.”
“They say he died on impact. That he didn’t suffer, at least.”
“Still, I imagine that was terrible for you,” he said softly. “Middle Sister’s a tough one. He must have been a very good climber to have even attempted it.”
“He was.” She pressed her lips together, her eyes glittery with tears. “The best. He’d been climbing his whole life.”
“Was it comforting at all to know he died doing something he loved?”
Miriam shook her head, her jaw clenching tight before she spoke. “No. It really wasn’t. Not at all.” Jason watched as something that looked like rage flashed in those bright green eyes. “Some goddamn adrenaline rush was more important to him than keeping himself alive for his family? That’s not comforting at all.”
She reached for a tissue from the box on the corner of her desk and dabbed at her eyes. Jason said nothing, waiting for her to compose herself. Part of him wanted to reach out and touch her hand, but he sensed the gesture wouldn’t be welcomed. Not now, anyway.
At last, Miriam tossed the tissue aside and looked at him again. “Anyway, I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. About the wife and kid, I mean. Sorry for being a bitch.”
“All things considered, it’s flattering.” He broke a cookie in half, scattering crumbs across her desk, but he scooped them into his palm and shoveled them in his mouth. “Actually, part of me likes the idea that maybe you were a tiny bit jealous.”
“Hmm,” she said, taking another sip of tea. She set down her cup and gave him a small smile. “Mostly I thought you were a jerk, but I suppose there was a little jealousy mixed in.”
“I see.” Jason grabbed another cookie and took a bite, sending a fresh waterfall of crumbs spilling down the front of his shirt. Miriam picked up her teacup again, watching him over the rim as he dusted crumbs off his shirt. “These cookies are kind of crumbly.”
“I suppose they are.” She set her cup back in the saucer. “Maybe if you bit into it over your plate instead of over your lap?”
“Huh. Yeah, I guess that would make sense.” He leaned forward again to grab another cookie. “I suppose I should brush up on my table manners before this Saturday.”
“What’s this Saturday?”
“Some fancy-schmancy dinner party with the Urban Trax executive team. We’re all going to Spoon for dinner.”
“Spoon?” Miriam frowned. “That’s like the hottest restaurant in town.”
“Is it? I didn’t know that, but I did try to talk them out of it. For crying out loud, we’re in financial crisis. Is now really the time for the execs to go out for dinner?”
“What did they say?”
He shrugged. “That the board of directors insisted. They made the reservation months ago, long before I got here. Apparently we’d be charged anyway if we tried to cancel.”
“I see,” Miriam said, watching as he scooped up his teacup and drained it in one final gulp.
“Remember how you asked me to give you a few pointers on becoming a more polished and refined CEO?”
“Yep.” He grinned at her. “And then I sort of hijacked things by giving you pointers on being an outdoor adventurer instead.”
“Exactly. So it’s my turn.” She spread her palms out on the desk. “How about we bone up on table manners?”
“I liked the first four words of that suggestion,” he said. “But the rest was fine, too.”
He watched as she replayed her own words in her head, then laughed. “Nice. Here’s your first tip—sex jokes at the dinner table are probably not your best starting point for conversations with the executive team.”
“Duly noted. Probably not with my branding consultant, either, eh?”
“Not when we’ve agreed to keep our hands off each other.”
“Such a shame.”
She smiled again, and Jason wondered if it was too late to take back that promise to keep things platonic between them. She was so beautiful, with her eyes flashing fire and her body lush and rounded under that expensive-looking outfit.
“No,” Miriam said, seeming to read his thoughts as she trailed a finger over the rip of her teacup. “We can’t fool around, obviously.”
“Obviously,” he said, echoing her wording if not the certainty in her tone.
“It could compromise our working relationship. And we’re all wrong for each other. Plus—”
“Why do you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself?”
Miriam pressed her lips together. “No fooling around,” she repeated.
“All right.”
She grinned. “But come to my place tonight at six and I’ll put something delectable in your mouth anyway.”
Chapter Six
Miriam was arranging an artful display of mortadella, prosciutto, chicken liver pâté, and fennel seed–flecked finocchiona when her doorbell rang. Her ridiculous heart leaped into her throat, but she forced herself to finish setting out the crostini and a little bowl of apricot chutney before turning toward the door.
