Glaring at him, I say, “You have a Happy Thanksgiving, Uncle Will,” before shutting and locking the door in his face.
Just when I start to feel a little free and as if maybe things could be looking up, he comes in to remind me that my father is still controlling me.
Chapter 9
She’s here in this boardroom with me. No, we’re not the only two people in this room, Jackie and I, but somehow, someway, I’m keenly attuned to everywhere she is in this place. Every space she takes up, I find my gaze meandering over to her. With each conversation she has with another lawyer in the corner of the room, or the accountant sitting across from me, I know she’s there.
My damn brain feels scrambled. I’m barely able to maintain focus on the various moving parts of this merger and her. I try to remind myself that I don’t need to worry about her, that she’s simply a colleague for the time being, but do you think that shit works?
No, it fucking doesn’t. Now I know why my brother acted so pissed when he first started falling for Resha.
Wait, I take that back. I’m not falling for anyone. Especially not the woman who left me high and dry in a hospital bed when she found out I could no longer walk.
Pulling in a huge breath, I try to recall the exact moment I was in the hospital and learned that Jackie wouldn’t be coming to see me, and why. I had just realized that I’d never walk again. To say I was devastated is like saying it’s going to be hot in hell. My father and Connor were by my side, Connor more so than my father. But I wanted Jackie, and she was in the wind.
Later that evening, I found out why. She wasn’t coming back. Now, sixteen years later, she’s back in my orbit, and my stupid fucking eyes can’t stop following her.
“That’s the correct amount, isn’t it, Mark?”
Blinking, I look up to see the accountant, Nolan, peering at me over his dark-rimmed glasses. He’s sitting next to Jackie.
“What was that?”
“The estimates for the upgrades are about this, correct?” He points his pen at a number on the paper he holds for me to see.
I quickly run the numbers in my head and nod. “It’s a few thousand off, but it’s about right.”
Nolan’s eyebrows lift. “Whoa, you ran those that quickly? You should’ve considered taking up accounting.”
“Mark’s always been good with numbers,” Jackie adds.
That stupid, tingling thing that’s been happening the past few weeks occurs in my chest again. Funnily, it only happens when she’s around, particularly when she flashes her smile at me, which she’s doing at the moment. I’ve done my absolute best to ignore the feeling, but, like those damn fruit flies in summer, it just keeps showing up.
“Science was never my forté.”
She snickers. “No, it wasn’t.”
Nolan looks between us. “Did you two know each other?”
I peer at Jackie while answering. “We went to high school together.” That’s the basic explanation of how we know each other. The buzz of the conversations going on around me reminds me that we’re at work—no need to get into our history with these people.
“Yeah, so, Nolan, how is the report coming along for the numbers regarding the insurance claims?” I question, changing topics.
“Chris,” he calls from across the room, waving another one of the accountants over.
We soon delve into the conversation on Cypress’ history of insurance claims, in particular claims that have to do with the government’s nationalized Medicare system. That’s enough to get us to forget about Jackie’s and my relationship from years ago and down to business mode again.
“That’s going to be a big deal, isn’t it?” Jackie inquires about three hours later, as I’m shutting off the light.
“What?” I ask, closing the boardroom door behind me. We’re the last two to leave the office, and it’s approaching five o’clock on a Saturday.
“The Medicare thing? It doesn’t look good for Cypress.”
Sighing, I run my hand through my hair, stopping my chair at my desk at the front of the top floor’s lobby.
“It’s going to be a problem. The numbers looked inflated to me, but I’m no accountant.”
“But you’re still good enough with numbers to impress one of Cypress’ top accountants. Do the numbers make sense to you?”
I shake my head, hating that doing so increases the worried look in Jackie’s eyes.
“Didn’t think so.”
“I’ll have to speak with Aaron on Monday when I update him on what we found.”
“Could this push back the deal?”
I shake my head. “There’s no pushing back. Either it gets solidified by New Year’s for the announcement, or we move on.”
Her shoulders slump. I allow my gaze to trail down the length of her body as she stands before me with her hip propped against my desk, arms folded.
She’s tucked her hair back in a tight bun, which allows her high cheekbones to show through. Even though her mocha skin shines, I can tell she’s not wearing any makeup, save for a nude gloss on her lips. Those dark brown colored eyes of hers don’t bother trying to hide the apprehension she feels at the news around this Medicare issue.
It’s a Saturday, so everyone dressed casually to come into the office. The dark blue jeans she’s wearing states as much, but whereas most of the men matched their jeans with sneakers or some sort of casual show, Jackie is sporting another pair of black high heels. Same as she does Monday through Friday. Not even the Devil himself could lie about how damn good she looks in those jeans.
“Are you hungry?” I ask, needing to pull myself out of a daze.
“I think I’m too disappointed to eat. The ending of this deal would be a huge loss for Cypress and would assuredly put most of my colleagues out of a job.”
“Hey, no one’s pulling out of anything yet. We simply need to give a second or third look at the numbers. There are likely some workarounds that we can look into. I’d bet my ass on it.”
Her head perks up. “You think so?”
I nod. “Aaron has invested too much time into this project to let it fall through his hands. Besides, he’s as skilled at spotting business opportunities as anyone out there. I’d bet he already knows about the Medicare issue to an extent.”
Jackie angles her head, giving me a sideways look.
I chuckle. “Still a skeptic, I see. But trust me, Aaron knows what he’s doing.”
Her lips spread into a genuine smile. “It’s why he put you at the helm of this, too, I bet.”
I dismiss her comment with a shake of my head. “I don’t know about that.”
“It’s true. If Aaron Townsend is only a tenth of the CEO you make him out to be, then you have to be as good for him to have the level of trust in you that he does.”
“Who says he trusts me?”
She opens her arms out wide, glancing around. “The fact that he isn’t here today. Yeah, he called, what, once? But it was you that the Townsend employees mostly deferred to throughout today’s meetings.”
I shrug. “He knows I’ll give him the full rundown when we’re back in the office on Monday.”
“Because he trusts you. You’re going places in this company, Mark.”
Lowering my head, I chuckle heartily.
Jackie suddenly gasps, causing me to look up. Her facial expression tells me she’s caught on. She steps forward and slaps my shoulder.
“You were fishing for compliments.”
I toss my head back, laughing.
“I can’t believe you still do that.”
“I can’t believe you still fall for that. Do you think I don’t know Aaron trusts me more than any of those other employees in the room? I’m damn good at my job.” I laugh and pop a wheelie in my chair right in the middle of the lobby.
She shakes her head.
“Wanna grab something to eat? I’m starving.” I place my and on my stomach for emphasis.
“Always hungry.”
�
��Damn right. We put in almost eight hours today, on a Saturday, and those sandwiches from the bistro weren’t enough to hold me over. There’s another vegan place on the other side of town, or we can go back to the place from last week.”
Her eyebrows narrow as she looks down at me. “I saw you take a turkey and cheese sandwich today.”
“Yeah, and?”
“So, you’re not a vegetarian or vegan. Why’re you always offering to take me to vegan restaurants?”
I jut my head back. “Shit, I thought you were. That first night you wanted to go to that vegan place, so I just assumed …”
She giggles while shaking her head. “It was the only place I knew of that was open late around here. I’m very much a meat-eater.”
“Thank God. There’s a Mexican place not too far from here. They have the best guac and carne asada and tacos.”
“Sounds good. Hang on, just let me call and check in on Mama.”
She steps outside, into the lobby, and I watch as she calls from her cell phone. The conversation is brief, but I see Jackie bite her bottom lip as she paces a little. Minutes later, she returns.
“Is it a go?”
Her smile appears genuine, but there’s a concern in her eyes. “Yeah, I’m just going to pick something up for her from the restaurant, too. I don’t think she’s eaten today.”
The fact that it’s approaching five o’clock and Jackie doesn’t think her mother’s eaten, coupled with the concerned look in her eyes, begs me to ask more questions about her mom. Yet, I bite my tongue. Jackie was never open about her family when we were together. Though now and again she would mention her mother or her father, I’ve noticed lately, she only speaks of her mother.
Mind your damned business, Mark. The voice of reason emerges, and I decide to follow it. The last thing I need is to get into Jackie Hinkerson’s personal life.
“Aw, man, you weren’t lying. These are good.” I dive in for another bite of the beef taco in my hand, uncaring that I probably look like a total pig. I’m hungrier than I thought.
“Told you. The carnitas are to die for. Did you try the lime on top?”
I shake my head. “No, I’ll have to squeeze it on the next one. This one’s too good to put down.”
He chuckles from across the shiny wooden table, amused by my appetite.
Unlike past dates, I don’t feel the need to disguise my hunger out of fear that the man sitting across from me will think I’m too greedy. My mother’s words to eat like a lady used to always come to mind.
Not now, though. Maybe it’s the familiarity factor. I’d let most of my guard down with Mark back in high school. He knew I could eat almost as much as him.
“Hey, those cookies I ordered from your friend came in. She’s fast. I devoured all of the pumpkin spice ones in one sitting. I tried to order more, but she’s sold out.”
“Hmm,” I say, wiping my mouth with a napkin as I nod. “Yeah, Desiree’s gearing up for the holiday run. She always goes all out on her holiday cookie list. I don’t know where she finds the energy after working with elementary kids all day.”
Mark shrugs. “It’s a love for what you do. She must love it to put the care and effort she does into it. My sister-in-law is the same way. She enjoys cooking, and you can taste it in the way her food always comes out delicious.”
I frown. “That trait must’ve skipped me.”
Mark chuckles and takes a sip of his Coke. “Still avoiding the kitchen?”
“No,” I say defensively. “I go in there every morning to make my cup of coffee.”
“And every night to discard the takeout boxes, huh?” He snickers.
I toss my crumpled up napkin at him, hitting him in the shoulder. He laughs harder.
“At least I’m not leaving them lying around the house.”
“True.” He laughs.
“What about you? It seems as if you eat out just as much as I do.” Then I stop with my second taco halfway to my lips. Pausing, I think about what I just asked him. Maybe he can’t cook. I would imagine a stove would be too high in his chair. I want to slap myself in the face.
“I know that face. It happens whenever someone gets scared they may have just said something offensive to me.”
I give him a sheepish look. “I’m sorry.”
He shakes his head, wearing a small grin. “Don’t be. And to answer your question, yes, I do cook. I had my home remodeled to accommodate my chair and all of that. But between the long hours I’ve been putting in lately, it’s just easier to order something.”
“I know what you mean. I’m usually too pooped by the time I get home to even think about cooking. Not that I would think about it, but you know what I mean.”
Laughter fills the space between us.
“I sure do.”
The conversation between us flows smoothly. Naturally. I imagine someone from the outside looking in would see us and not even know that two short weeks ago, Mark was shooting daggers at me with his gaze. Heck, I can barely figure out how that happened in such a short amount of time, but I don’t want to question it, either. I simply want to enjoy it.
“Oh no, this is not on Townsend tonight.”
“Technically, it is since I’m paying, and the money in my accounts come from my paycheck at Townsend,” he answers in that smart-ass way of his.
“No, not that either,” I declare, holding up my card for the waitress to take. “For all three meals, please,” I say, adding the fish taco meal I purchased to take home to my mother.
“What’d you do that for?” he questions as the waitress walks away.
I giggle at the disturbed expression on his face. “What’s the matter? Don’t want to ruin your reputation among the ladies in here?” I lean in, folding my arms on the table.
“Exactly. Do you know how much play I get when I treat a woman in this place?”
Tossing my head back, I laugh. “Whatever, Mark.”
“It’s true. Chicks love a dude they think needs saving.”
I lift an eyebrow. “Yeah, I bet you tell them all about your older brother, too.”
He waves me off. “Nah, that card’s lost its luster since the big guy retired.”
I smirk at the loving nickname he refers to Connor as.
“Doesn’t he own that sports drink company?”
“Supplement company, please. He’d have a freaking conniption if he heard you call it that. And, yeah, TKO Drinks and Supplements is all him.”
“Nice. I remember seeing those products advertised on my social media feed. I think I tried the chocolate drink. Wasn’t too bad.”
He nods. “Yeah, I used to run his social media accounts, but Resha helped to redo all of that. Helped boost his sales.”
I nod. “Good for him.”
Mark smiles with pride as the waitress returns my card.
“Thank you,” I tell her after stuffing her tip in the little folder thing. “Hey, I need to run to the restroom. You don’t have to wait for me,” I say after he stops.
He frowns. “Do I look like a douchebag to you?”
Tipping my head to the side, I ask, “Why would you ask that?”
“’Cause only a douchebag would leave a woman to walk herself back to her car after sharing a meal. Especially when it’s gotten dark outside.” He motions his head toward the window.
Glancing up, I see it had indeed gotten darker in the two hours we’ve been sitting here. Though it’s not pitch black outside, I choose not to argue.
“Be right back.”
My time in the bathroom is quick since there isn’t a line, which I’m grateful for. Unfortunately, though, as I round the corner to walk back into the dining area, I find myself cornered by another one of the male patrons. I spotted him earlier as he entered the restaurant. He’d leered at me, licking his lips, but I ignored him.
“Excuse me.” I attempt to move around him, but he moves with me, effectively blocking me between his body and a wall.
Tilting my head upwar
ds, I narrow my gaze on the man, obviously recognizing that he doesn’t plan to let me pass until he’s had his say so. Immediately, I become pissed off. It’s not the first time I’ve had my personal space impeded upon by a strange man. “Get out of my way,” I demand in a low tone, glaring at him directly in his ice blue eyes.
My statement only seems to egg him on as he licks his bottom lip and widens his smile. “You looked lonely.”
The smell of his breath singes my nose hairs.
“And you could use a fucking Tic Tac before getting in someone’s face.” I roll my eyes in disgust and attempt to move around him, but he braces his arm against the wall.
“I saw you as soon as I walked in. You’re fucking hot.”
“So is your breath.”
He chuckles. “Funny. Playing hard to get or—”
“Or B, you do as the lady asked the first time and get the fuck out of her way,” a very pissed off male voice says behind him.
I don’t need to look over the guy’s shoulder to identify the owner of that voice. The idiot standing before me does, however. He turns around and then drops his gaze. Another chuckle spills out of his mouth as he pushes himself off the wall and moves toward Mark.
My heart races as I realize this guy isn’t about to give up. He’s got cocky asshole written all over him. Those types don’t let shit drop. Plus, I know I smelled alcohol on his breath also. Just what we need, a drunk, cocky asshole.
“This your woman?” the asshole questions with a layer of disbelief covering his tone. “Yeah, I saw you sitting at the table with her. She appeared lonely coming out of the bathroom, so I figured she wanted a real man.” He moves to stand beside Mark and places his hand aggressively on his shoulder.
“You okay, Jackie?” Mark questions, seemingly unaware that the douchebag is touching him.
I nod to reassure him, but then start glancing around for a restaurant employee who can help. I take my eyes off Mark and the douchebag for all of two seconds before I hear …
“Ah, shit! Let me go.” Followed by a loud thud.
Flinching at what sounds like someone hitting the very hard, tiled flooring, I turn to face Mark and the guy, and my mouth falls open. Mark, somehow, has used the guy’s arm for leverage, causing him to fall to the ground. Not only that, he’s still holding onto the man’s twisted arm in what looks like a very painful wrist lock. I’m ashamed to say, but seeing the guy scream out in pain satisfies me just a tiny bit.
A Holiday Temptation: A Holiday Novella Page 7