Page 36 of Reclaiming Love

Had her friend not interrupted, perhaps he might have asked her whatever it was he was going to ask her.

Now, as she doodled away, she knew she couldn’t delay it any longer; she had to tell Matt. Seeing him this morning, the way he’d kissed her, assaulted her by mouth, she knew she had to end it.

There would be fallout from this and she would need nerves of steel to deal with it.

“Good morning, Melissa.” Michael Zimmerman, the head of the company, stopped at her desk.

“Good morning, Mr. Zimmerman.” She smoothed her arm over her doodled artwork. Something was going on and Melissa wasn’t sure what it was, but Mr. Zimmerman had lots of meetings already scheduled for the first week back after the New Year.

She hadn’t seen any managers around. Even Nadine wasn’t in, and only a few of the administrative support staff were scattered about, like her. Something was definitely going on behind the scenes and Melissa knew that in time Nadine would tell her.

“Somewhat of a quiet day, isn’t it?”

“It sure is.” She smiled back, keeping her arm over her jotter pad.

“Make the most of it; we’re going to be busier than ever once the new year starts.” And with that lofty assurance, he left her to think about work again.

She wondered what Ethan and Nadine were up to. Nadine had mentioned something about going home to see her parents over the New Year. Any time that woman had away from work was a blessing.

Talking of the New Year, she wasn’t sure what she was going to do. She and Heather had talked about it briefly, mulled over their options: spending a night in, or braving it and going out to a New Year’s Eve party with a group of Heather’s friends.

One thing she knew, she didn’t want to do anything with Matt, but timing was crucial and she had to act fast. If she left it any later, if she dragged it out until tomorrow, it would be a huge mistake.

Breaking up with someone on New Year’s Eve was a sin. And God only knew she didn’t want to drag this mess into the new year.

It had to be today. When he’d ventured up to her desk, soon after lunch, she’d managed to throw him a signal which she hoped would prepare him for the ending that would come later. She’d arranged to meet him in the lobby at the end of the workday.

Five thirty, she’d told him, and in case he got to thinking about any ideas, she had forewarned him with her words. “We have to talk.”

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