She smiles at him. Smiles are supposed to bring joy, but hers brings misery. I can’t sit here and watch them enjoy each other’s company. “I think I need to go.”
“Don’t let him run you off,” Harper says.
Teague takes the cocktail napkin I’m shredding into tiny pieces out of my hands. “You should go talk to him.”
I agree. I should. But rational or not, I’m hurt at simply seeing them together, and I can’t get my feet to take me over there. I feel like an outsider from way over here, so I imagine it would be way worse up close. The last time the three of us talked at this restaurant didn’t exactly go my way.
Michaela leans over, practically into his lap, and whispers something in his ear. I can’t take it anymore. “I’m sorry. I have to get out of here and grab some air.” I snatch up my purse and escape, head down, eyes on the floor. I have no choice but to walk close by their table on the way to the exit. When I stupidly strain to hear what they’re talking about and Michaela says, “my hotel” I forget how to breathe.
I rush out the restaurant’s front door. Immediately my hands are on my thighs as I try to catch my breath. Have I been made a fool a second time? I promised myself after Henry I would never let that happen again.
Someone bursts through the door. “Madison?”
It’s Elliot. I don’t move from my position. Maybe if I stay like this he’ll go back inside.
He bends over, too, hands on his thighs, putting us at eye level. “Is there a reason you’re not answering me?”
Yes, you’re a giant jerk and I hate you.
“All right. Let me take a guess. You saw me with Michaela and thought the worst.”
I lift up. “Who?”
My question sparks a knowing grin. He crosses his arms, his dress shirt stretching across all the sinewy muscles I know are underneath.
“Okay, yes. I saw the two of you together.”
“It’s nothing you need to worry about.”
“Really? So having girls fawn all over you is normal?”
He studies me. “Are you jealous?”
“No.” I so am.
A couple steps out of the restaurant and almost bumps into us. Elliot puts his hand on my lower back and guides us away from the entrance—and the possibility of being seen by anyone. He positions us against the side of the building where it’s dark and leans into me, one hand pressed to the wall just above my head. “I think you are.” His warm breath fans my neck, making my skin warm.
“What brought the two of you together tonight?” I ask with a straight face.
“Exactly what you think, but I told her that wasn’t happening,” he says sincerely. “I was also hoping she could help me with our problem given she’s an HR shark.”
“You were?”
He drops his arm, creating some space between us. “Yeah, but I didn’t get a chance to ask because some gorgeous blonde distracted me when she ran out of the restaurant.”
“Oh.”
“I smelled you.”
My stomach flutters at that. He’s memorized my scent.
“And then I saw the sexiest ass and this shiny long hair”—he rubs a few strands between his fingers—“and I jumped out of my chair to find you.”
“Here I am.”
“Yes, you are.”
We quietly stare at each other until I utter, “What are we doing, Elliot?” It’s the second time I’ve asked him this, but so much has changed since the first time.
He opens his mouth, then closes it, I suspect because he notices the seriousness in my eyes and whatever cheeky thing he was about to say isn’t going to help my mood. He turns so his back is against the wall, our sides lightly touching. It worries me that he doesn’t want to talk to my face.
“James has big plans for the company. And for me. He wants me to take more of a leadership role at the office, and he wants to send me overseas for a few meetings. Have me put my French to good use in person.”
“That’s great.” It truly is. I’ve never once wished for anything but the best for Elliot work-wise.
“I’m halfway into my five-year plan and because of ZipMeds, I’ve surpassed where I thought I’d be.”
I’m ashamed to admit I’ve never had a plan other than get married and have kids. My life was practically mapped out the second Henry and I got serious. But hearing Harper and Teague talk about marriage tonight, I realized I don’t want to get married for a while. I do want to love one person with all my heart and soul. And I want to live life the same way. Being, doing, feeling, pushing myself out of my comfort zones, surprising myself and others, finding my limits and then surpassing them, that’s what I want—what I need.
My heart tells me all of that is possible with the guy standing next to me, but that he doesn’t feel the same.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Elliot
“I’ve just started my plan and I’ve surpassed my expectations, too,” Madison says with pride.
I let those words sink in. On the busy street beside us, cars continually zip by, the sounds and energy of city life swirling in blurred shades of red, orange, blue, and black. I stare unfocused, wondering how the fuck I can get out of this mess without hurting her.
The reality is I can’t. I’m about to rip her first job out from under her and there’s not a thing I can do about it short of never touching her again. Today’s marathon meeting with James cemented my place with ZipMeds for the next two years. I’m completely dialed in—a promotion and raise not far off. I couldn’t have scripted a better job scenario, and all of this before I’m twenty-five.
“I should add it’s because I love working with you.”
Fucking hell. Of course she does. I’ve been a better boss with her. I’ve treated her like my equal. Given her tasks to challenge and teach. Respected her suggestions and valued her input.
I love working with her, too, but after today, not enough to jeopardize my career. This makes me a total asshole, I know. I knew better. I knew better than to get involved with her and I chose to be stupid over smart anyway. It wasn’t like I didn’t try to be on my best behavior. I did. I just couldn’t stop the magnetic pull to have her body on mine.
“Madison.”
She turns her head and looks at me with guileless blue eyes that slay me. The depth of intelligence takes it up another notch. She knows my tone. What’s in my head. She’s waiting on me to say something she won’t like.
“I don’t think this is going to work,” I say, the words bitter on my tongue. I hate myself right now.
She looks away. Painful seconds of silence tick by. “Five minutes ago you made it sound like you were trying to figure out a way.”
“You’re right. But—”
“Save it.” She waves her hand in the air. “I don’t need to hear the reasons why being together is a bad, not to mention an impossible, idea. You’ve made it perfectly clear your job is the most important thing to you, and I get it. My job is my top priority, too, so no worries. We had some fun and now it’s over. We knew it was a mistake to begin with.”
Wait. What? She’s misunderstanding.
“Actually,” she continues, “this is a huge relief. Now I can keep my focus on work. And lucky me. I’ve got a boss going places, which means I am, too. I see having my own assistant one day, you know.”
No. I did not know. What did you expect, your arrogant prick? Did you think she’d declare her love for you and say she’d happily find another job? I know she loves it at ZipMeds. That she’s made friends. Seamlessly become part of the team.
She steps forward, clearly ready to end our conversation with her shoulders squared, her chin lifted. Good thing, since I’m at a loss for words. “I guess I’ll see you Monday morning. Have a good night.”
“Madison.” I reach for her hand but pull back before making contact. I’ve got my pride and no way am I letting her see how much it bothers me to be dismissed so easily. I can’t believe how wrong I was about her feelings for me. “Never m
ind.”
This is for the best. It’s a win-win on the work front. Mostly. That I’ll have to see her every day won’t be easy, but I can’t think of anyone better to make professional strides with. The stupid emotions making my throat thick will fade. I pray sooner than later.
She heads back inside the restaurant and joins Harper and Teague. I sit back down with Michaela. Five minutes later we get up to leave. I feel Madison’s eyes on my back until I’m out of sight. Let her think the worst, my bruised ego says, when in reality I say good night to Michaela and go home alone.
…
I swing the bat and miss the fastball for the third damn time in a row.
“Dude, who taught you how to hit? Your grandma?” Levi jokes. “Remind me to send her half of the hundred bucks I’m about to win from you.”
I push the stop button on the indoor batting cage so I can catch my breath and give Levi a, “Fuck you.” It’s Sunday afternoon and we’re at the cages, our bet over who will get the most hits in the seventy-five-mile-an-hour cage almost ever.
“Aw, is Elliot sad he’s about to lose to me again?”
No. Elliot is pissed he can’t keep his head in the game, but that’s about to change. I’m going to crush these last five pitches and beat my roommate’s sorry ass. “Watch and learn, pretty boy.”
I hit the start button and get in position with my back knee, hip and head in a straight line. Top arm bent, head in the middle of my feet. The pitch machine cranks up. I zone in on the mouth of the machine, focus, clear my head of all the other shit taking up space, see the ball release. I swing. Hit against a firm front side, back foot on its toe, and the sound of the bat cracking against the ball echoes in the warehouse.
One down, four more pitches to go.
Next pitch. Smack.
Three, two, one, go down the same. My grandmother didn’t call me “Slugger” for nothing. I lift my batting helmet off, tuck the bat under my arm, and turn to gloat. “I’ll take that Benjamin now.”
Levi shakes his head as he pulls a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet. “Way to come back. I knew you had it in you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I exit the cage and we walk over to the vending machine. Loser also buys the winner a Gatorade.
“As soon as I pissed you off you forgot about your girl troubles and focused.”
“I don’t have girl troubles.”
“Says the guy who just this morning asked me the age-old question, love or money.”
“No, I said, I need to get me some honey. And I don’t mean the kind from bees.”
He laughs as we sit down on a bench near the slow-pitch cage where a couple of young kids are taking turns batting. “This is worse than I thought.”
“Says the guy who moped around for a month over some pussy.”
“Correction. I moped around over love and you know it. I suspect you might even feel it yourself.”
“With who?” I’ve pushed the L-word out of my thoughts. I never should have toyed with it in the first place. Madison set me straight on that score.
“Quit the bullshit. We both know who.” Why did I tell him about Friday night? Oh, that’s right. I didn’t. Harper did, and then I had to set the record straight by informing him she walked away from me because her job meant more.
It meant more to you, too, remember?
“Doesn’t matter anymore.”
Levi gives me a narrowed sidelong glance. I know he’s got my back in all things, but I don’t need him right now. I want to drop it.
“Excuse me?” a kid says, eyes on me, with a bat almost taller than he is in his hands.
“Hey, bud,” I say.
“I saw you hitting and was wondering if you could show me how. My mom doesn’t know anything about baseball.”
I look beyond the kid to a woman standing near the cage fence. She’s hot. Around thirty, I’d guess. A definite MILF.
“Sure.” I stand up, notice the woman smile. My battered ego gets a boost. “Be back in a few,” I tell Levi. The mom is grateful and flirty while I help her son, Cody. She’s not wearing a wedding ring and when I get Cody set up inside the cage to bat, she asks if she can thank me with dinner tonight. It’s a nice offer, and I should take her up on it, but fuck if I can’t get a certain assistant out of my head.
Cody gets some hits and beams after each one. We fist-bump when he’s finished, his grin still in place. I bend to his level to share a few top-secret pointers just between us men, then Levi and I take off.
I hit the sack early with Socks curled up near my head, eager for Monday morning to get here. Sleep is fitful, but I’m at the office early as usual. What isn’t usual is the envelope on my desk. Not because I haven’t received this particular type of note before. But because it’s eight a.m. and there’s no sign of Madison. She must have come in over the weekend to leave it for me.
Mr. Sax,
You are an excellent finance manager. That being said, your interpersonal skills could use some work. I believe there are classes at the local community college that may help you with this. Check them out online. I’d also like to inform you that I quit, effective immediately. I’ve contacted the temp agency and a new assistant will arrive this morning at nine sharp. I sincerely hope he or she meets with your approval, or at the very least is tolerable. We both know there will never be anyone else like me.
Best wishes,
Miss Hastings
I fall back against my chair. Madison quit? She didn’t only quit me personally. She’s left me professionally, too? What the hell? She couldn’t give me fucking two-weeks’ notice? Come in this morning to talk through whatever prompted this decision? Nope. Instead, she single-handedly dealt with our situation. Damn, but I drastically underestimated her.
I’m pretty sure she also damaged my heart if the pain in the middle of my chest is any indication.
James strides into my office. “Good morning.”
There is nothing good about it. “Morning.”
“I got an email from Madison. Did you know she was quitting?”
Great. She didn’t even give me the courtesy of a heads-up. “No. I just found out, too.” I tuck the note back inside the envelope.
“Is she okay? Any idea what happened?” He takes a seat across from me, concern creasing the corners of his eyes.
After the faith he’s put in me, I owe him the truth. Not that I know precisely why she quit, but I’d bet money she’d still be here if we hadn’t crossed the line. I give him an abbreviated version of what happened between us, adding my apology at the end. His quiet concentration is something I’ve grown used to over the past several months, but it’s unnerving given the topic of our discussion. Finally he speaks up. One pass is all I get, he tells me, none too pleased about how I acted.
“She saved you your job, you know,” he says as he gets to his feet. “She’s not only smart, but generous. I’ll see you for our exec meeting.”
“Right.”
Madison Hastings is smart and generous…
And she’s the winner of our workplace strategy.
“Sometimes things have to become completely undone, before they can be mended.”
—J. Iron Word
Sax/Hastings
Workplace Strategy
Scorecard
Sax – 3
Hastings – 7
Chapter Twenty-Six
Madison
Seattle looks very different when the sun is shining. Sitting in a comfortable leather chair and staring out the tenth-floor window in the reception area of the elegant executive building, I’m lost to the urban city landscape, blue water, and mountains in the distance. With this beautiful view to keep me company, apologies that I’ve been kept waiting are more than okay. Besides, it doesn’t hurt to have a little more time to mentally prepare.
It’s been a little over two weeks since I quit ZipMeds. I couldn’t keep working there knowing Elliot chose his job over me without giving me any say. Leaving like I did m
ay have been cowardly, but giving up the job was easy compared to the thought of seeing him every day.
I run my sweaty palms down the navy skirt of my power suit. I’m here. Having a meeting. My stomach roils, this time having nothing to do with the nauseating drive from the airport. This is either the worst or best idea I’ve ever had. I’ll confirm which when my meeting is over.
Madison Michelle. It has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?
The idea to start my own handbag company first occurred to me a couple of months ago, a little seed in the back of my mind that never really went away. With free time on my hands over the past two weeks, though, I’ve done nothing but cultivate it (my fingers hurt from all the sewing!) and put my finance knowledge to good use—spreadsheets, financial forecasts, market analysis, profitability, expansion.
For the thousandth time, my mind drifts to Elliot and the note I’ve memorized. I know our notes back and forth weren’t based in truth and were meant to mask our mutual attraction, but I haven’t been able to get this particular one out of my head. I suspect the heart of a risk-taker beats underneath your whip-smart attitude. But in the competitive world of financial management, you also need to be fearless.
Thank you, Mr. Sax, for making me mad enough to realize other options. I’ll be forever grateful.
In truth, I never would have had the courage to start my own business if it weren’t for him and the things he taught me. About business. And about myself.
“Madison? Joaquin is ready to see you now. Again, I’m so sorry for the delay,” Joaquin’s assistant says, interrupting my thoughts.
“No worries. I was enjoying the scenery.” I pick up the large hard-case hatbox off the shiny marble floor. The deep, round box that I splurged on from Nordstrom is a great carrier for my handbags.
I follow Ms. Roy—I think she said that was her name—down the hallway toward Joaquin Santos’s office. When he agreed to meet with me, I did a happy dance around my bedroom that may have included some twerking. After I reached out via email last week, he’d said he remembered me very well. He asked to see my business plan, I sent it, and the very next day he invited me to a sit down. The cost to fly here and meet with him personally is an investment I pray pays off.
Too Hard to Resist Page 23
