“We were coworkers who unfortunately crossed a boundary that we never should’ve,” he said. “That’s all.”
“That’s how you really feel?” I felt a sudden stab in my chest. “I thought you missed me and wanted me to call you?”
“I had a moment of weakness,” he said. “It won’t happen again. I was better off before you sidetracked me with your nonsense, and I have a business to run.”
“I wish you the best of luck with that, then.” I tightened my grip on the cart. “Goodbye, Mr. Cross.”
“Goodbye?” His eyes flickered with hurt. “You know how I feel about that word.”
“I know.” I glared at him. “That’s exactly why I said it.”
I brushed his shoulder as I walked forward, refusing to let him see the tears that threatened to fall.
Without looking back, I pushed through the frigid morning air and loaded the cart into the waiting car’s backseat.
After sliding onto the leather and buckling my seatbelt, I pulled out my phone and finally blocked him for good.
FORTY-SIX
HARRISON
“Good morning, Mr. Cross!” Heather set a fresh cup of coffee on my desk Thursday morning. “Ready to go over your agenda for the day?”
“Not particularly.”
“I’ll go with your top three, then.” She tapped her tablet. “Ken Lay wants a meeting at noon. He sounded very impatient.”
“What are the other two things?”
“Additional meetings with the Lay Group. One of them mentioned finalizing some ‘far more generous’ severance packages. Is that—” Her voice dropped. “Is that true?”
I didn’t answer.
“Mr. Cross?” She stepped closer, lowering her voice. “Are you laying people off?”
I took a long sip of coffee and glanced out my window—at the exact pane where Andrea should be pressed against the glass right now—taking every inch of me before the day even began.
I’ve never been this stuck on anyone else before…
“Um… Mr. Cross?” Heather said gently. “I don’t want to pry, but I have a five-year plan that depends on me still getting apaycheck… and a lot of people here feel the same. Will you at least give us decent notice?”
I turned to look at her.
“You would tell us if you were planning to let us go, right?” She looked like she was on the verge of tears. “You wouldn’t let us find out from a cold email or a headline, right?”
I couldn’t handle the trembling in her voice, and for the first time in weeks, I got a glimpse of the pain I was about to inflict on her.
On everyone.
And my blood began to boil over the thought of the man who put me in this position in the first place.
The man who started this entire trajectory of bullshit.
“Tell Francis to pick me up downstairs in five minutes,” I said. “And tell the Lay Group they’re not on my time. I’ll let them know when I want to talk again.”
“Okay…” She nodded.
“I should be back around five.” I stood up and grabbed my jacket. “I’ll expect dinner to be waiting.”
