Page 66 of Foreplay with the Boss

“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. It can’t change everything. I won’t let it.

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.

She was 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,

I feel stupid starting an email like this with “hey,” but putting “Mr. Stone,” or even “Jameson,” looked so formal and at odds with what this email is, and how I feel sending it. You demanded that I at least let you know if I was alive in your last voicemail, and as this message makes pretty obvious, I am. I’m alive, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it anymore. Maybe admitting that I cared about you enough that I feel sad and broken without you makes me weak, but in my defense, my boss didn’t get a chance to finish my training or that procedure to replace my heart with a robotic one.

That’s supposed to be a joke. In case it’s not obvious. Yeah, I didn’t laugh when I typed it, either, but not much makes me laugh these days, not the way you did. Honestly, I had this grand plan to come charging into your meeting today, wearing one of those super impressive power suits. Only I’d wear a power skirt since you taught me a tight skirt can be a thousand times more powerful. I was even planning on testing just how short I could go, just so I’d at least get the board members’ attention, even if for the wrong reasons at first. ’Cause everything is fair when it comes to business, right. Use what you got and whatnot.

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.

But I racked my brain until the sun came up this morning, searching for that magical answer that would fix things. I thought it’d be like in the movies, you know when a lightning strike of genius hits last minute and the unlikely hero saves the day? I’d be the hero. The person who saves the jobs of all the people in the Hartford branch.

I even tried to think of some new innovative thing that would blow the lid off the industry. But I guess that lid’s already been blown, probably by people like you. Or even you—I have no doubt you’ll always come out on top. You, who taught me how to be bolder and gave me the courage to finish my sentences and say what I want—I’ll always be grateful for that.

As you’ve probably guessed, no matter how hard I tried, those damn numbers wouldn’t tell me what I wanted them to. You were right. Business wins. And that’s okay, because I’m more passionate about people, so I’m going to try to find a job that helps me focus on that.

Goodbye, Jameson. Give em hell and all that.

Xoxo Kat

“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’m alive, but sometimes it doesn’t feel like it anymore. 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.

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