The One Real Regret

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The One Real Regret Page 13

by Janet Nissenson


  She hurried back to his office with the tea, but was careful not to spill any of it at the same time. During the short walk, Jill chastised herself for being so instantly and powerfully attracted to this man, knowing she had no business at all thinking of him in that way. He was much too old for her, to begin with, at least twelve to fifteen years her senior, she guessed. And he was so obviously sophisticated, intelligent, and successful, while she was just a college student from a small southern town who’d seen virtually nothing of the world. He was also so compellingly handsome, even more so than Trina and the other women in the office had claimed, that she was astounded she hadn’t been completely tongue tied in his presence.

  Max glanced up as she carefully placed the cup of tea on his desk, a warm smile softening his rather austere features. “That was fast,” he told her, then took a quick sip of the hot tea. “And this is perfect, Jill, just what I needed. Good and strong, too.”

  She beamed with pleasure at his compliment. “My grandmother liked her tea strong, too, so she taught me how to make it that way. Was - is there anything else you’d like me to do? I could order in some dinner if you’re hungry.”

  “No, thank you,” he replied firmly. “I’ll eat when I get back to my hotel in a couple of hours. And you should finish up your work so you can get home for your own dinner. Do you, ah, live alone here in Seattle?”

  “I have three roommates, but we’re all on different schedules so it’s rare for us to have meals together. The four of us rent a house together, an older place that definitely needs some updating but I love it just the same. I think older houses have so much character, don’t you?”

  Max regarded her curiously. “Yes, I happen to agree with you completely. But that’s a rather unusual preference for a young woman like yourself. I would have imagined you’d prefer some modern, downtown condo.”

  Jill wrinkled her nose. “Not in the least. And I guess I’m a little bit old-fashioned, probably a result of being raised by my grandmother. I went to live with her when I was only two years old.”

  “What about your parents?”

  She shrugged at Max’s question. “I never met my father, he wasn’t part of my life. And my mother died when I was two, an - an accidental death. That’s when I went to live with Grandma. And when she died two years ago I decided to leave South Carolina and move out here. I, well, wanted a change of scenery, I guess. That and the fact that the University of Washington is considered one of the top schools in the country for finance majors.”

  “You’re a finance major?” asked Max, visibly surprised at this revelation. “Hmm, and here I would have pegged you for an English literature or perhaps an art major.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” she acknowledged ruefully. “My roommates say it’s because I’m such a girly girl. That and my drawl, of course,” she added with a grin.

  He gave her a returning grin. “That must be it,” he agreed easily. “But now you’ve intrigued me, given that I was also a finance major. And, as you’ve probably surmised, corporate finance is my business. Well, to be more specific, assessing the overall health and stability of a particular corporation’s financial status. Which, of course, is why I’m here in Seattle. Tell me, Jill. What if anything do you know about Pour Elle’s finances?”

  She bit her bottom lip uncertainly, not at all sure she should be confiding in this man who could very well recommend drastic cuts to the company, and possibly cost her a job. She glanced around as if to make sure she couldn’t be overheard, even though she’d seen for herself that the office was deserted except for the two occupants of this office.

  “Well, I’m far from an expert, of course,” she hedged. “And I can only base my opinion on the various financial statements and reports that have to legally be made public. I mean, I’m just a part-time data entry clerk, working here while I’m finishing my degree, so I don’t have any inside information or anything like that, so - ”

  “I’m well aware of those facts,” interrupted Max. “And I didn’t expect that you’d have access to any sort of confidential information. But based on what you do know, what’s your assessment? I assume that you’ve had to present similar assessments in your finance classes?”

  “Yes,” she admitted. “In fact, I’m working on a project like that right now, one where I have to analyze the finances of a mock company and present my recommendations for a course of action. Something similar, I’d guess, to what - well…”

  “To what I do,” he finished. “Yes, that’s more or less what I’ve been hired on to do here. So, consider this practice then. For your school report. Tell me as succinctly as possible what types of problems you see here at Pour Elle and what you’d do to fix them.”

  Jill took a deep breath, hoping that she wasn’t making a big mistake and sticking her nose in where it didn’t belong. But then she realized that if Max Wainwright wasn’t already fully aware of what she was about to tell him, he would soon find it all out - and much more - for himself.

  So she blurted out everything she’d managed to deduce from studying the company’s various quarterly reports, plus what she had quietly observed on her own about the rather lavish corporate expenditures. Max listened carefully, not commenting or even nodding as she continued on with her ideas for how to cut costs and hopefully save the business in the process.

  “But, like I told you, a lot of that involves some guesswork, not knowing the whole picture or having access to all of the confidential information. As for my recommendations for cost cutting, well, that’s probably nowhere near enough, is it? I mean, it’s a start, of course, but I have a bad feeling that the cuts are going to have to go much deeper.”

  She blew out a breath when she was finished, unwilling to look at Max for fear he might be laughing at her. Or, worse, looking completely unimpressed with her inexpert opinions. Instead, he shocked her speechless with his next comment.

  “This company could have saved themselves a hefty consulting fee and asked you to do the job instead,” he observed with a wry smile. “Because every single observation and suggestion you’ve made is spot on. And while you’re quite right in assuming there’s a lot more information to delve into, and, unfortunately, much deeper cuts that will have to be made over time, you are definitely on the right track, Jill. You’ve got rather a brilliant financial mind, at least from what I’ve observed this evening, and I expect you’ll have a very successful career in whichever direction you choose to go.”

  It felt like her smile might split her face in two, and the pleasure she felt from his lavish compliments filled her heart near to bursting. “That - that means a lot to me, Max,” she murmured, looking up at him now. “Coming from someone like you, especially. I mean, I’ve heard that you’re in great demand, and that you have a reputation for pulling companies back from the edge of ruin. So, thanks for the vote of confidence. It’ll definitely be motivation when I work on my project tonight!”

  “Speaking of which.” Max drew back the French cuff of his white dress shirt to reveal a plain gold watch on a black leather wristband that, despite its simplicity, had probably cost a small fortune. “I’ve kept you well past quitting time, Jill, and I know you still have work to finish up. So, thank you again for your assistance and for the tea. And especially for sharing your extremely accurate assessments. If I didn’t insist on always working alone, I’d strongly consider offering you a job after college.”

  He stood and walked around to the front of his desk, taking her hand in his again and giving it a quick squeeze. Their eyes collided, much as they had earlier, and once again Jill felt her chest constrict, like she’d suddenly forgotten how to breathe. She was standing close enough to see the tiny gold flecks in Max’s otherwise dark brown eyes, to smell the faint scent of his cologne or soap, to feel the warmth of his body beckoning her to press herself against him. Her lips parted soundlessly as she continued to stare at him enraptured, unable and unwilling to look away from his intense gaze. S
he had never in her life wanted something as badly as she wanted his kiss at this exact moment, and wondered wildly if she might actually have the nerve to reach up and press her own lips against his.

  As if by a will of its own, her head lifted a fraction, and then another tiny distance, until her mouth was mere inches from his. Max’s lips parted, too, and she fought off the urge to close her eyes, the pull of attraction between her and this man who was a virtual stranger becoming much too hard to deny or resist.

  And then, rather abruptly, Max released her hand and took a step back, all in one smooth motion.

  “Have a good evening, Jill,” was all he said, then gazed at the doorway to his office expectantly.

  Too mortified by what she’d almost done, Jill merely mumbled a hasty “Good night” before practically dashing out of his office like the place was on fire.

  Chapter Nine

  “Isn’t this the third day in a row you’ve worn a dress or skirt to work? And when it’s been raining or freezing cold every day this week? Now, I know you aren’t trying to impress that bitchy boss of yours, so there must be a guy involved.”

  Jill looked up guiltily at the teasing (but all-too-accurate) observation made by her roommate Shoshana. “Why does it have to be one or the other?” she asked innocently. “Maybe I just felt like dressing up a little.”

  Shoshana gave her a look of disbelief. “Sweetie, it’s freaking thirty-five degrees outside this afternoon, and you’re dressed like it’s springtime in Florida. Not that you don’t look adorable, of course, just like you always do. But you’re not fooling me for a second. So fess up. Who’s the cute guy you’re trying to make an impression on?”

  Self-consciously, Jill smoothed down the slightly flared skirt of the pretty pink and cream floral printed dress she’d pulled out from the back of her closet. “I guess you’re right,” she acknowledged forlornly. “It’s just a little too garden party considering the weather, isn’t it?”

  Shoshana nodded regretfully. “Maybe just a little bit. I mean, it’s so pretty and the perfect color for you, but it might look a little odd to wear such a summery dress when the forecast calls for the possibility of snow showers tonight. If it was me I’d be bundling up in the warmest pair of slacks that I owned and a nice sweater. You know, like you usually wear to the office.”

  Jill sighed in resignation. “Okay, you’ve convinced me. Especially since I wasn’t looking forward to wearing the sandals that go with this dress outside today. I’ll go change.”

  “Want some company?” offered Shoshana. “Not that I’m your best option for fashion advice, of course, considering that my M.O. usually consists of throwing on crappy sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt. Which, coincidentally, is exactly what I’m wearing now.”

  The short, generously proportioned Shoshana was in fact wearing a pair of navy sweatpants that had seen better days, along with an oversized University of Washington T-shirt and a navy cardigan sweater that Casey insisted looked identical to one her grandmother owned. Shoshana’s wild mane of black corkscrew curls sprung out in half a dozen different directions, and she wasn’t wearing a lick of makeup. It was definitely what she called her “lounging around on my ass” look, since she didn’t have to work on Thursdays, and had already finished with classes for the day.

  Jill smiled fondly at her roommate, who liked to act the part of mother hen, especially towards Jill. “Sure. Maybe you can help me find something a little warmer to wear, but also a little nicer than leggings and a sweater if possible. I’ve already worn the three wintery dresses that I own earlier this week.”

  “Which brings us back to my original question. Or, more accurately, my suspicion. Tell me the truth, Jill Parrish. And I’ll know if you’re lying. More importantly, your granny will know if you’re lying and come back to haunt you from the grave. Who’s the guy you’re very obviously trying to impress?” demanded Shoshana.

  They had reached Jill’s bedroom by then, and she was grateful for the shelter of her closet to hide the betraying flush on her cheeks. “Um, no one really,” she stammered. “I mean, no one serious. And I’m definitely way out of my league with this guy, shouldn’t even be worrying about how I look or what I wear because there is no way he’s going to take me seriously. So maybe you’re right, Sho. I should just find the warmest things I own to wear today because why should I bother trying to catch the attention of this man who probably hasn’t given me a second thought over the last few days and..”

  Shoshana clapped her hands abruptly. “God, slow down, will you? You’re supposed to be the shy, quiet one between you, me, and Casey, and here you are babbling a mile a minute. Now, who exactly is this guy - excuse me, man - that you’re hooked on? I’m going to assume he’s someone at work because otherwise why would you care what you wear to the office?”

  Jill nodded. “He’s a consultant the company hired to overhaul their finances. He arrived on Monday, and every woman in the office is gaga over him. He’s - well, gorgeous, Sho. So handsome, and such a gentleman. He’s British, too, with the dreamiest accent, like an actor from Downton Abbey. He’s worn a different suit and tie every day this week, and one of the girls is pretty sure that each one cost at least five thousand dollars. But, well, he’s also a lot older than I am, and so much more sophisticated and confident and for all I know he’s got a wife or girlfriend back home. So I have no idea why I’m even worrying about what I’m going to wear today, except…”

  “Except what?” prodded Shoshana. “Come on, girl, out with it. I know you, Jill. You’re as practical and levelheaded as they come, so there must be some reason why you think it matters how you look when you see this guy today.”

  Jill gave a tiny shrug. “I might have helped him with some photocopying on Monday. Oh, and fetched him a cup of tea. And, well, I sort of think we might have had a moment there. But it was probably just my imagination, you know? I’m hopelessly naïve when it comes to men, you know that better than anyone. So I’m sure I’m totally reading something into it.”

  “Hmm.” Shoshana tapped her index finger against her chin thoughtfully. “What kind of a moment are you referring to?”

  Jill smiled dreamily. “Just - well, we were sort of staring at each other for a minute or so. And I could have sworn he was getting ready to kiss me. But it was more likely wishful thinking on my part.”

  “How old is this guy? Excuse me - man,” amended Shoshana.

  Jill paused a moment before replying. “Um, I’m not exactly sure. I’m not a very good judge about that sort of thing you know. But I did look over his business website, and his bio mentioned that he graduated from Stanford - let me think now. I’m pretty sure it was around fourteen years ago. Which would make him - ”

  “Thirty-six years old,” finished Shoshana. “Jesus, you weren’t kidding about him being older, were you? You’re not even twenty-two, Jill. Not for another month, anyway. And, no offense, sweetie, but you’re still a babe in the woods about a lot of things. Especially men. Now, have there been any other moments between you and this guy? What’s his name, by the way?”

  “It’s Max. Maxwell Wainwright is his full name. And, well,” Jill continued hesitantly, “there might not have been any other so-called moments, but he has stopped by my cubicle the last two nights to say hello and talk for a few minutes. After everyone else has gone home, of course. And both times it was just to ask how I’m progressing on that report I have to do for my class, the one I’ve been stressing over since Christmas.”

  “Aha!” declared Shoshana triumphantly. “That’s why you’ve been getting home so late this week. Okay, spill the beans, sweetie. What else has the gorgeous Max said to you? It’s got to be something good, because I swear you’ve got stars in your eyes right now just from hearing his name.”

  Jill smiled dreamily. “It’s true, no use denying it, Sho. I’ve got a huge crush on the man. Stupid of me, I know. I mean, he’s so out of my league, and he lives in San Francisco and will only be
here in Seattle for two or three more weeks at most. And I have zero idea why someone as attractive and smart and experienced as Max Wainwright could possibly have any sort of interest in someone like me.”

  Shoshana gave her an admonishing glare. “How about because you’re pretty damned smart yourself, sweetie? Not to mention gorgeous and sweet and so damned nice that everyone who meets you can’t help but love you on sight. And maybe you don’t own a five thousand dollar suit, or even a five hundred dollar dress, but so what? You look fab in anything you wear, and I’m guessing your Mr. Wainwright couldn’t help but notice. So don’t you dare sell yourself short, Jill Parrish. The way I look at it, this Max character would be damned lucky to snag a hot, young babe like you.”

  Jill couldn’t help but giggle a little at her roommate’s fervent declaration. “So you don’t think I’m making a fool out of myself, Sho?” she asked quietly. “I mean, there’s absolutely zero chance I’m going to make a move on him first. I guess everything my grandmother drilled into me growing up is stuck in my head. In this case, it’s something like “nice girls don’t ask boys out or call them on the phone, they let the boys do the chasing.” Though, frankly, I’m not sure why she ever told me stuff like that since I was never allowed to date.”

  Shoshana snorted. “Well, then, it’s about time for you to rebel a little, isn’t it? Start breaking free of all that hogwash your granny tried to instill in your naïve little brain.”

  “I already have,” muttered Jill defensively. “I’ve done a lot of rebelling, actually, since she died - getting my ears pierced, wearing short dresses, going out dancing, drinking. Oh, and let’s not forget eating Indian food for the first time. And sushi! Grandma would have had a cow if I’d ever suggested eating tikka masala or sashimi.”

 

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