Chapter 8 Clearing the Air
Clearing the Air
SARAH
My first week on the job went much better than I’d feared. Probably because Jamie wasn’t there. The next, I hardly saw him, since Seamus had set me up in a smaller office in the back corner of the building on the opposite side of where he and his father sat.
It was an excellent arrangement, as far as I was concerned, though I’d be moving into Seamus’s office when he left for New York State in a few weeks, and I’d have to be right next door to Jamie. At least I didn’t have to think of that just yet.
The only interaction Jamie and I’d had so far was on the day he came back, where he welcomed me to Reilly Contracting at a staff meeting. Even then, he’d barely looked at me.
When he did though, I felt like I’d been doused in something hot and slightly painful. Burning gasoline, maybe.
“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake,” I said to Ellie over the phone that night from my new apartment. We were back to being long-distance friends, and I missed her terribly.
I explained how things were going, and she reminded me of our pact. I’d been forgetting, even though I’d even written “NO FUCKS” on a piece of paper and stuck it to my fridge. It was good to hear it again. It spurred me to make a plan to talk to Jamie one -on-one. To clear the air and move forward.
The next morning, I set my shoulders back and held my head high as I headed toward his office. An unfortunate thing I’d learned about Jamie was that he liked to come in early, just like me. I wondered if it was the same high energy, peaceful before-everything-gets-going vibe he appreciated too.
Then I told myself to stop wondering anything about Jamie. That was the only way this would work. And this conversation was how it had to start.
His door was open when I got there, sending nerves skittering through me. He was at his desk, reading something in a file, one big hand making the coffee mug he held look like a tiny teacup. A lock of silver hair fell onto his forehead, making him look almost boyish.
I ignored the little pinch that gave my chest.
Instead, I straightened my shoulders and rapped on the door with the back of my knuckles. My palms were sweaty, but he couldn’t see that.
“Morning Jamie,” I said.
His eyes snapped up, meeting mine. Heat flooded almost painfully through me. Except for the brief moment in the boardroom, he hadn’t met my eyes since the day of my interview. He looked back down, frowning. I wondered if he realized that too.
Did he feel the same unnerving surge of intense energy as I did when we looked at each other? Likely not, since he was scowling like he’d swallowed something bitter.
“Good morning, Sarah.” He closed the file on his desk.
He said my name in a way I couldn’t put my finger on. An accusation almost. Or nothing. Fuck, this was not going well so far.
“Do you have a minute to talk?” I asked.
For a moment he didn’t say anything. Maybe he was analyzing the thousand different ways this could go just like I had.
Then he stood up. “Please.” He gestured to a pair of armchairs on the far side of his office. The place for casual conversations, or conversations where he didn’t want to feel like the boss, I guessed.
But I didn’t want to sit. I couldn’t.
“Actually, this won’t take long,” I said.
It would take exactly thirty seconds, so long as he didn’t ask me to elaborate.
I’d planned and recited in the mirror this morning before leaving home. With a timer.
For a moment, Jamie looked mildly panicked. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
I almost laughed at that. “What? No. Unless…”
He ran a hand over his face. “Sorry. No, that would be the worst outcome here.”
The tension in my shoulders slipped just a hair.
“I’ve been meaning to talk to you too,” he said, coming around and walking to the window, where he leaned into a half sitting position on the wide sill. “But please, go first.”
Suddenly I was dying to hear what he had to say. But I lifted my chin, scratching that from my brain, since I didn’t come in here to hear from him.
I took a step forward, and wished for a moment I hadn’t said no to the chairs just so I wouldn’t have to stand here awkwardly.
But I was a professional.
I clasped my hands in front of me, the ring in my hand a reminder of how I wasn’t going to let this go.
“So I want to address the elephant in the room.”
Jamie’s face remained neutral.
I swallowed. “I wanted to tell you that I’d like to start fresh with you.”
Jamie kept his gaze steady.
“But before that, I’d like to apologize for what I told you the night we did meet. That I was just passing through.”
Jamie stood up, crossing the floor in three quick strides, pulling up only a few feet from me.
Now it was my turn to panic. He didn’t come any closer, but he was still there, big and looming.
“You don’t need to apologize,” he said. “I—”
“No,” I said. “I do. It wasn’t truthful.
” I paused. Now this was the hard part. “I’m going to be personal with you for a moment, Jamie, which I understand is not the professional thing to do.
But given the circumstances…” I swallowed.
“I didn’t—I can’t have a romantic relationship of any kind with anyone right now.
I knew that when we met, and I know that now.
Even if the present circumstances weren’t at play. ”
Jamie’s expression remained neutral, but a vein pulsed at his temple. His jaw muscle feathered, too.
“Even if you weren’t my boss,” I said, “and you were still that man who—” I cut myself off. Too far.
“I just got divorced. I need to figure out who I am on my own. So I want you to rest assured that’s where I stand even if our professional lives weren’t a factor.”
Still, he didn’t let anything cross his face.
I badly wanted to know what he was feeling. What he was thinking. But it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was giving me time to finish my thoughts.
“So, I’d like to request that you keep the woman you met that night separate from me. Because this is me. And I’m here to do the job I was hired for. And I won’t settle for anything except absolute professionalism. From me, I mean.”
Okay, kind of awkward, but I got it out there.
I swallowed once again. “I’m finished.”
Jamie stuck his hands in his pockets. Once again, he met my eyes, and for a moment, my heart thudded wildly.
Finally, he said, “Thank you, Sarah. I appreciate your candor.”
My chest deflated, even though it was entirely the right thing to say. What had I wanted? For him to sweep me into his arms and declare his—
Stop.
“But you didn’t need to apologize,” Jamie said. “I do.”
I frowned. “What for?”
“I shouldn’t have said anything to you in the lobby, and I should have been there for your interview. I was… I’m not good at surprises.”
That was becoming increasingly obvious.
“But that’s no excuse, and I’m going to see what I can learn from this.”
I’m sorry, what? I don’t think I’d ever had a man say such words to me.
“I agree with everything else you said,” he continued, “and I want to assure you that we have a policy against interpersonal relationships between subordinates here at Reilly. One that’s probably stricter than most.”
A look flashed across his face, one that told me maybe there was a reason this policy was implemented. Or that he was displeased at having had to make it.
“It applies to senior management, including me and you and everyone who reports to us. It’s introduced after the probationary period, during which time no interpersonal relationships are permitted, period. I’m sure Seamus mentioned it to you?”
Seamus mentioned a lot of things I promised myself I’d look more closely at later when I wasn’t grappling with the matter currently at hand.
“Possibly. I’d like to see it sooner if I could.”
“Of course.” Jamie’s gaze bore into mine, and for once, I didn’t see anything there except a need for me to understand. “I also want you to know that my personal feelings will never trump your job security. You come first Sarah, I promise.”
The feelings came so fast I could barely parse them. Relief, certainly, that he was so agreeable to starting over. That he wasn’t the hardliner I’d met in the lobby the other day. Gratitude, because I’d prayed for a positive response to a difficult conversation.
But I couldn’t help the most irrational feeling of all: grief.
Because this was saying goodbye permanently to whatever it was we’d shared that night.
I knew I was already supposed to have said goodbye to it, and it wasn’t like I’d enjoyed his company since I’d been here.
But ending what we’d shared on an ambiguous note was not the same as this slammed door.
But this was what I wanted. I truly was grateful for this job; and for this fresh start.
“Thank you Jamie,” I said, feeling at the least, much better with the air cleared and without the strange tension floating around between us.
Jamie ran a hand over the back of his neck. “Thank you for putting up with the foul mood I should never have put on you last week. I’ll have to take Seamus out as thanks for whatever he did to keep you from running for the hills.”
My lips turned up. “I like the hills. It’s part of the charm of this town.”
Jamie smiled, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop. I hadn’t seen him smile since that day under the stars. The one I just said we needed to forget. I had to look away.
“Do you have another moment?” I asked, hopefully casually. “Because I wanted to ask you about the bid for the public apartment project renovation you mentioned at the meeting yesterday.”
And just like that, it was over.
We chatted for a moment about work, and even managed to exchange professional smiles. Then the chime sounded outside, alerting us we were no longer alone.
I headed for the door.
“Jamie,” I said, hesitating at the threshold. “Can I ask you one last thing?”
Jamie’s smile faltered.
“What happened to the dog? Slick?”
Relief traced over his features. “We found her family. She made a break for it when the family’s boy took her for a walk. Got excited about a squirrel.”
I smiled, even as some small part of me wished maybe there had been no owner; that the puppy was desperately in need of adoption. Even though I was deeply happy for the boy. And even though the apartment I’d just signed a lease on had a no dogs policy.
Then it was gone. One day, maybe a few years from now, I could buy a little place in the woods with space for a dog. And a workshop. A place where I could see the stars.
I said, “I’m so glad.” and I meant it. At least about the dog.