38. Jameson
Istepped off the elevator and into the front part of the office, my thoughts on the presentation and numbers I knew backward and forward.
“Some of the board members have already arrived,” Debra said from behind her seat at the reception desk. “I sat them in the conference room and gave them coffee.”
“Thanks.”
“Did you happen to…think about what we discussed yesterday? About a certain someone who used to work here?”
“You have a funny definition of we and discussed.” I wished I could tell her that her words changed me, but she was appealing to my emotions, and at work, I didn’t have any. “Let me know when everyone’s arrived.”
“Yes, Mr. Stone.”
What really got to me was last night. After Stu and I had parted ways, I’d walked the few blocks to Savor in need of a strong drink and a friendly face. But what happened instead was that Ben had come over and excitedly asked if Kat was with me. I’d told him she wasn’t, and never would be again, and he’d given me a look of such strong disappointment, you’d think I had told him that I’d ridded the world of puppies.
“You’re not seriously going to let her get away, are you?” he’d asked, and I’d clenched my jaw, realizing that I should’ve at least tried to hide my reaction to the mention of her name. So I decided to just get it all out and over and done with, so I could try to move on. “She chose to leave. She can’t deal with what it takes to run a business, and when I tried to get her to sign the NDA, she freaked.”
“Freaked? Of course she did. You basically told her you don’t trust her. You’re lucky she wasn’t pissed.”
“I wouldn’t go saying she was unpissed.”
Ben shook his head. “I can’t believe you took Nate’s advice on that. He doesn’t understand love or trust, or anything besides being the best at his job. Someday he’ll meet a woman who makes him rethink everything, and he’ll get it, the way you finally did with Kat.”
“Well, I got it, and now I feel like shit all the time, and I’d like to go back to the way it was before.”
“There’s no before,” Ben had said, his voice quiet and dripping of personal experience. “That’s the thing about love. It changes everything.”
That line had stuck with me since he’d spoken it last night, buzzing in my ear like an annoying gnat that wouldn’t go away, no matter how hard I swiped at it. Itcan’tchangeeverything.Iwon’tletit.
I walked into my office and set my laptop bag on my desk. If I tried hard enough, I would get back to who I used to be, starting with doing what needed to be done at the meeting.
My phone rang in my pocket and I pulled it out.
It was my mom, and I knew that she’d mention Kat. Then she’d be the next person to tell me how stupid I was to let her get away—never mind the fact that she left and she wasn’t calling me back, and she was the one who’d crashed into my life and made it seem brighter for a little while.
Shewas the one who haunted my dreams. My every waking thought.
My intercom buzzed, and Debra’s voice came through. “Everyone’s in the conference room.”
“I’ll be right there.” I grabbed the flash drive with all the information I needed to make my presentation, stood and buttoned the middle button on my suitcoat, and then strode toward the conference room.
I’d just rounded the corner, the glass windows giving me a view of half of the board members, when my phone chimed with an email.
I almost ignored it, then decided to check, just in case it was urgent.
When I saw Kat’s name, I stopped dead in my tracks. My pulse rushed through my head.
I turned my back to the conference room and tapped my screen to open it.
Hey,
Ifeelstupidstartinganemaillikethiswith“hey,”butputting“Mr.Stone,”oreven“Jameson,”lookedsoformalandatoddswithwhatthisemailis,andhowIfeelsendingit.YoudemandedthatIatleastletyouknowifIwasaliveinyourlastvoicemail,andasthismessagemakesprettyobvious,Iam.I’malive,butsometimesitdoesn’tfeellikeitanymore.MaybeadmittingthatIcaredaboutyouenoughthatIfeelsadandbrokenwithoutyoumakesmeweak,butinmydefense,mybossdidn’tgetachancetofinishmytrainingorthatproceduretoreplacemyheartwitharoboticone.
That’ssupposedtobeajoke.Incaseit’snotobvious.Yeah,Ididn’tlaughwhenItypedit,either,butnotmuchmakesmelaughthesedays,notthewayyoudid.Honestly,Ihadthisgrandplantocomechargingintoyourmeetingtoday,wearingoneofthosesuperimpressivepowersuits.OnlyI’dwearapowerskirtsinceyoutaughtmeatightskirtcanbeathousandtimesmorepowerful.IwasevenplanningontestingjusthowshortIcouldgo,justsoI’datleastgettheboardmembers’attention,evenifforthewrongreasonsatfirst.’Causeeverythingisfairwhenitcomestobusiness,right.Usewhatyougotandwhatnot.
I could picture the scene in my mind, and I went ahead and made Kat’s skirt short and tight, the kind that had driven me crazy from day one. I glanced over my shoulder at the windows of the conference room, noticing a few people fidgeting. I even tried to get a peek at the whole room, just in case she’d followed through with her plan. I didn’t see her, and I didn’t want them to see me yet. I needed to finish this email first, even though it was making my chest feel raw.
ButIrackedmybrainuntilthesuncameupthismorning,searchingforthatmagicalanswerthatwouldfixthings.Ithoughtit’dbelikeinthemovies,youknowwhenalightningstrikeofgeniushitslastminuteandtheunlikelyherosavestheday?I’dbethehero.ThepersonwhosavesthejobsofallthepeopleintheHartfordbranch.
Ieventriedtothinkofsomenewinnovativethingthatwouldblowthelidofftheindustry.ButIguessthatlid’salreadybeenblown,probablybypeoplelikeyou.Orevenyou—Ihavenodoubtyou’llalwayscomeoutontop.You,whotaughtmehowtobebolderandgavemethecouragetofinishmysentencesandsaywhatIwant—I’llalwaysbegratefulforthat.
Asyou’veprobablyguessed,nomatterhowhardItried,thosedamnnumberswouldn’ttellmewhatIwantedthemto.Youwereright.Businesswins.Andthat’sokay,becauseI’mmorepassionateaboutpeople,soI’mgoingtotrytofindajobthathelpsmefocusonthat.
Goodbye,Jameson.Giveemhellandallthat.
XoxoKat
“Mr. Stone.”
I lowered my phone and spun, finding Debra staring at me. “Is everything okay? The natives are getting restless.” She tipped her head toward the conference room.
“Just taking care of a few last-minute things. I’m going in now.” I exhaled and then lifted my chin and walked into the conference room, my strides strong and steady, and took my place at the head of the table. “I know we’re all short for time, so I’ll make this as quick as possible…”
I skimmed my gaze over the audience, cataloging names and positions. Stu Taylor was among them, and he looked resigned and somber. At least I’d done the right thing and given him a heads up instead of bombarding him with the news at this meeting, no warning.
I pulled out my flash drive with all the stats and numbers that Kat had no doubt run and run last night. I pictured her sitting cross-legged on her couch, that determined look on her face as she searched for a way to save her dad’s branch.
Suddenly one of the lines from Kat’s email popped into my head. I’malive,butsometimesitdoesn’tfeellikeitanymore. Hell, I knew exactly what she meant. Being in front of a group, ready to show off what I could do used to be a huge high for me, something I could get as passionate about as a preacher in the middle of a lively sermon.
But I didn’t feel an ounce of excitement.
Dread stood in its place instead, along with a healthy dose of missing Kat.
If this meeting went the way I’d planned on it going, I’d probably miss her forever.
The heart that she’d teased me had been replaced with a robotic one knotted, misery seeping from the hole Kat left, and it hit me, the thing I’d tried to deny since she’d walked out of my office Monday. Possibly even from the day she’d first walked into it. I loved her. I loved her, and I was about to lose her. She might’ve been the one to storm out, but this would be slamming the door on us for good.
I couldn’t close that door. I didn’t want it to be over. The thought of going all in with Kat and calling her mine didn’t scare me, it called to me. I had to fix things between us, even if I crashed and burned. I’d regret it forever if I didn’t at least try.
I cleared my throat and looked at the sea of expectant faces.
“I’m so sorry. I can’t do this without my assistant. I need to push back the meeting.”
It was unprofessional and 100 percent emotion-driven, and I didn’t give a shit. Kat was more important.
“You can’t run the presentation on your own?” Mr. Williams, one of the older, grouchier board members asked with a huff.
“I can, but I won’t because I’d rather take the time to get it right. Something new has come to light, and I need time to analyze what exactly it means.”
They didn’t need to know that the something was realizing just how in love I was with Kat, and that it might change everything. Even the way I did business.