I hadn’t even noticed Resha was here for that part of our discussion.
“Yeah, I’ll be here.” Where the hell else was I going to go? I don’t like imposing on friends for the holidays. Both of our parents are deceased, and my brother used to be the only family I had. With Resha and Colin added to the mix, I wouldn’t think of missing his first Thanksgiving. I despise the holidays, but I’ll celebrate them nonetheless.
“Good. Will you be bringing a plus one?”
Frowning, I question, “Why the hell would I do that?”
She surprises me by laughing. “You sounded just like Connor when you said that. You two are so similar sometimes.”
I shook my head. “He wishes he looked this good.”
“I fucking heard that.”
“You were meant to, douchebag. Bye, sis,” I say.
She leans in and kisses my cheek, giving me a hug, which I return. Despite my flirting earlier, I really do love Resha and Connor together. She’s good for him.
“Later.”
After getting in my car, I finalize the email I’d started more than ten minutes earlier. My short conversation with Connor helped me realize that pouting about this work situation isn’t going to fix shit. I need action.
Action has always gotten me out of my pissy moods and shitty situations when I’d rather sit in my self-pity.
I take another minute to read over my email before sending it to Jackie’s Cypress account, knowing she’ll receive it first thing in the morning. Inhaling, I feel relieved having gotten that off my chest.
Chapter 5
This is absolutely ridiculous,I think as I look up at the chime of the coffee shop’s front doors. Sighing in disappointment, I glance down at the cracked wooden table when I see it’s not the one person I’m searching for.
Rolling my eyes at the measures I’m resorted to taking just to get my job done, I sigh. Not only am I now working ten-hour days to play keep up and learn an entirely new company and programs, but also, this merger deal has me working overtime.
That’s not even the worst part. I could deal with all the other stuff that comes along with taking on a new position. Even the merger with Townsend isn’t that bad. Right, it’s a hell of a lot of work, but if it goes well, this deal could mean Cypress has the opportunity to do some great work in the city of Williamsport and possibly beyond. That’s one of the main reasons I took this job.
There’s also the bonus I really,reallyneed.
I don’t mind putting in the hours. What I do mind, however, is the fact that my days are longer because the one person I’m supposed to be working with on this merger keeps avoiding me.
I received Mark’s email three nights ago. After that first meeting at Townsend, I found myself swamped with work. Once we made it back to the office, Jase expressed how critical this merger with Townsend is. Not only is my bonus on the line, but the jobs of many others as well. To stay open, without this merger, Cypress may have to eliminate a lot of positions.
I asked Jase why he would have me take on the lead role to help pull all of this together when I’m so new to the company. He admitted, “Aaron Townsend doesn’t trust many of us over here at Cypress. Probably for a good reason. He needed to see a new face in the lead to partially ensure that the same old bullshit that almost crippled Cypress won’t be replicated.”
So, I was a token of sorts.
I’m not offended.
I have zero qualms proving myself at this job. It’s the only thing keeping me sane. That is until I have to deal with Mark. Or not deal, as he strictly demanded in his email.
Mark reiterated that we keep our contact with one another relegated to email and messages, strictly when necessary. I’ve only received one email from him since then. He’s been going through Suzette as an intermediary, but that isn’t going to work.
So, while everything in my life—literally, everything—is telling me to steer clear of Mark O’Brien, my desire to get at least one thing right pushes me to say screw his email.
Which is why I’m here, at this coffee shop across the street from Townsend Industries at seven-thirty this Thursday morning. The door chimes again, and my stomach turns over, and my heart races just a touch faster when I see Mark push himself through the door with one hand while holding it open with the other.
My heart squeezes as if someone fisted it. It’s not pity I feel for him as I watch how practiced he is at maneuvering his chair around the shop. There’s a quiet confidence that drapes over him, surrounding his every move. He wears it well. Same as he did back in high school. Back then, however, he’d been full of teenage bravado. Now, I find myself staring at a man, who despite the differences physically, knows his place in this world. He takes up as much space as he needs and makes not one apology for it.
“The hell are you doing here?” that same man growls at me as I step forward.
I work to hide my flinch and my surprise. I didn’t even realize I moved closer. I got lost in my thoughts about Mark, caught between the past and the present, and somehow, he was like a magnet, drawing me closer.
