Page 97 of Unbossly Manners

“The first time we kissed…” My throat tightened restricting my words.

“Yes…”

“You didn’t want me to know it happened.” I swallowed down the ache. “You were scared I’d become too attached.”

“That’s not true,” he said. “I was… I felt guilty for doing that when your mind was altered.”

“You said you’d create an environment of trust and safety but the moment I felt safe, you ran away. Back to Kat.”

“When we talked to HR, you said you wanted it to be over, too,” his voice was tight.

“I was protecting myself!” I spun on him, not caring that my eyes glistened. “I was humiliated. Of course, I said I agreed with you. And when I let you in again, you pushed me aside the moment Kat came back. Again. That’s why I never visited you in the hospital. Why I want you to go away. I have some self-worth. And you’re not worth it.”

A curtain of pain covered his features.

“You’re right. My head was up my ass wishing I could have my old life back. But then you came along. You were so unexpected, and I denied what I was feeling, still grasping at the straws of something that doesn’t exist anymore.”

“It’s too late.” I pushed off the counter.

His phone buzzed, and he silenced it. That’s when I noticed his left hand. His ring finger was bare. I waited for the giddy hope to rise, but it never did.

“You should go,” I said.

“No.” Jackson narrowed his eyes. “I want to talk about this.”

“Read the room, Jackson. There’s nothing more to say. This—whatever this fucked up thing was—is over.”

thirty-six

Sleepless in Seattle played on the screen in front of me. My cheeks were wet from tears despite the wads of tissues beside me.

The front door opened and Selena rolled her eyes when she saw me. She grabbed the remote and paused the movie.

“I can’t take it anymore. You have to watch something else.”

I sank onto the couch, snuggling into the pillow.

“It’s cathartic,” I said.

“It’s trash. What about poor Bill Pullman. Yeah. He’s a dweeb but he’s a sweet dweeb and Meg Ryan shat on him for overrated Tom Hanks.”

“Take that back.” I pointed the remote at her like a sword.

“Never. I find nothing attractive about that guy.”

“He’s America’s Sweetheart,” I defended.

“Then you fuck him.”

I pulled a face because I adored young Tom Hanks but Selena had a point. He wasn’t fuckable. He was just the adorable guy you wanted to get the girl at the end of the movie.

Selena pulled my feet into her lap and massaged.

“How ya doing?” she asked.

I hadn’t gone to work the rest of the week. Analise was fine with that. She said I could work from home. Which I was doing. And I’d come up with a plan. I’d been researching the owner of FireVision.

It was a woman named Manjari Kazi. She was smart, a Rhode Scholar who’d graduated Cum Lauda from Berkley. I read every article I could find on her. She was savvy, clever, a risk-taker. But what stood out the most was her integrity. Of course, that could be her public persona, but my gut told me she was a tiger when it came to the validity of her company. That’s what came across in the articles and the messaging on the company website.

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