Oh. Okay. Could it have been sincerity? Or was it a verbal trap designed to lure Christopher into a false sense of security so that Deke could turn around and sucker punch?
He closed the photo album and set it on the coffee table, scooting forward so that he was sitting on the edge of the couch.
“It was good to hear her voice,” Christopher said. In a split second he decided to stick to his original plan and play nice. “It’s good to hear yours, too, Pops.”
The words hung out there for a few beats before Deke answered, “I’m glad to talk to you, too. Son, I have a confession to make. I regret the way we parted when you took off for Red Rock. You and I have had our differences over the years, but we’ve never left things so badly between us.”
The old Christopher would have quipped, “You regretted it so much that you waited for me to call so you could tell me.” But from his view on the high road, he could see that this was a hard confession for Deke to make.
“I’ve regretted it, too, Pops. I’m...I’m sorry.”
As soon as the words escaped Christopher clamped his mouth shut, gritting his teeth so hard he could feel it all the way up to his temples.
“That’s right big of you to say that, boy. To be the first one to apologize.” Deke’s voice sounded small and...humble? So much so that Christopher wasn’t even sure it really was his father on the other end of the line.
“How’s that job of yours going?” Deke asked.
So in the end his father couldn’t bring himself to say the two little words that would have gone such a long way toward healing them...reuniting their family. Then again, maybe this was Deke’s version of an apology. Christopher swallowed his pride and decided it was.
“It’s great. I’m really enjoying it. Working for the Foundation is giving me a lot of opportunities to do some good in the community.”
And that was as far as he was going to justify what he did for a living.
“That’s what I hear. James has been in touch with your mama and he’s had a lot of good things to say about you. He bragged about you, saying that you have a great work ethic and a real creative head for business. He says you’ve been such an asset to the Foundation, he would’ve hired you even if you weren’t a blood relative. I’m really proud of you, son.”
Proud of you, son.
Christopher fell back against the couch cushions so hard it knocked some of the air out of his lungs in a whoosh.
For the first time in his life, his father had told him he was proud of him. Christopher had a hard time hearing the rest of what his father said because of the blood rushing in his ears.
Family could be the most amazing people in your life while simultaneously being the most exasperating.
If an apology was gold, the words that had just passed from Deke’s lips and traveled four hundred miles through the phone line were platinum.
No, they were priceless.
* * *
What was the Foundation’s policy about fraternizing with a superior?
As Kinsley flipped through the employee handbook, she silently chastised herself. Now was a heck of a time to worry about that.
Still, for her own peace of mind she needed to know. After Christopher left her on Sunday evening, Kinsley had fallen back to earth with a terrifying awareness of her vulnerability.
She’d decided when she saw Christopher again, it should be business as usual. If they were going to work together, they had to keep their emotions (and libidos) in check.
Or at least she had to.
That sounded like common sense, but it was easier said than done. Now she was having a hard time keeping her mind on work when she knew Christopher was right across the hall.
That was the problem. He sat right. Across. The hall. And that’s where he’d been, holed up in his office, for the better part of the day Monday.
Now it was midday Tuesday and he hadn’t come into the office yet, which was no big deal. Before things had changed between them, she hadn’t felt it necessary to know his schedule. They had never checked in with each other. Why should they do that now? It was a ridiculous thought.
Yet every time she heard a deep voice in the reception area she looked up, hoping to catch a glimpse of him.
To no avail.
He was acting as if nothing had happened between them. He wasn’t exactly avoiding her. Or maybe he was...she wouldn’t know because she hadn’t seen him except for late yesterday afternoon, when she’d run into him as she was on her way out and he was on his way in. He’d held the elevator door for her, and he had acted like the same old Christopher—the “before sex” Christopher. After the initial exchange of hi-how-are-yous, he’d mentioned that he had the germ of a wonderful idea for educating people on how to intervene when they saw someone being bullied. He had been saddened and inspired by what had happened to Tonya at the Spring Fling.
“Maybe we can talk about it soon?”
“Absolutely,” she’d said, trying to figure out if he had run with the idea because he knew how important the cause was to her. Then again, adding another leg to the bullying prevention campaign would reflect well on him, too.
Although she hadn’t expected him to kiss her at the elevator, she had wished for a little more. A whispered Saturday night rocked my world; a Let’s do it again soon; or even better, What are you doing for dinner tonight?
He looked as if he was about to say something, but the elevator had buzzed, scolding them for holding the doors open too long.
He’d simply said, “Don’t let me keep you,” and she’d answered, “Good night,” and had gotten into the elevator...alone with her pride.
She wasn’t about to let herself appear needy because at that point, weren’t his feelings pretty clear?
Today, after paging through the handbook no fewer than five times, she still couldn’t find the answer to her question about superior/subordinate relationships. Did that mean there was no policy? And why wasn’t there one? Probably because not sleeping with your superior/subordinate was common sense—something every savvy professional knew.
Instead of driving herself crazy dwelling on it, she busied herself doing something more productive: polishing the recap of the Spring Fling event for the staff meeting next week.
As she was reading through her draft, her mind drifted. Maybe she should call him and ask him where they stood?
And maybe she should just stamp the word NEEDY on her forehead.
Stop it.
She had two choices. She could talk to Christopher about it, or be confident that things would turn out the way they were meant to be.
She had always prided herself on being confident. She had never obsessed over things she couldn’t control, and she wasn’t going to start now.
Realizing that her eyes had been scanning the recap but her mind had been thinking about Christopher and nothing of what she had just read had registered, she started back at the top of the page and forced herself to focus.
Bev buzzed her phone.
“Hey, Kinsley,” she said. “Sawyer Fortune is on line one for you.”
Sawyer Fortune?
“Thank you, Bev.”
She pressed Line One.
“This is Kinsley Aaron.”
“Hi, Kinsley, it’s Sawyer Fortune. Am I catching you at a good time?”
“Absolutely, Sawyer,” she said. “How can I help you?”
“I’ve been trying to reach Christopher today, but he seems to be unavailable. When I met with him the last time I was in town, he mentioned that the two of you worked closely in the community relations department, so I thought I would run it by you.”
Sawyer went on to tell her about possible dates for the air-show fund-raiser that would benefit the Foundation. She assured him that she would talk to Christoph
er today and make sure he got back with Sawyer as soon as possible to reserve the date.
So, Christopher had even been unavailable to Sawyer.
That shed a new light on things. Something was up. Maybe that meant he wasn’t avoiding her.
She was about to hang up with Sawyer when he said, “Oh, and, Kinsley, thanks for talking Christopher into calling his father. When I last spoke to Christopher, he said he had talked to Deke and that you were the one who had urged him to do so.”
A knot of emotions formed in Kinsley’s stomach as she mumbled something to Sawyer, then hung up the phone. He had called his father. That was great, a true breakthrough for him. He had told Sawyer that he had done so at her urging. That was tremendous, especially because he had mentioned her to Sawyer yesterday. She could let her mind go in all sorts of directions, imagining what he had said about her to his cousin.
But why did there always have to be a qualifier? If she had been the one who convinced him to take such an important step, why hadn’t he shared the news with her? It was pretty important. He could’ve said something when they were standing at the elevator.
A cold, prickling realization settled around Kinsley. Maybe he hadn’t shared this personal news with her because it was personal.
Maybe she needed to take a hint from his lack of communication over the past day and a half.
A bubble of laughter escaped, but the sound was dry and devoid of humor. Despite Christopher’s claims to the contrary, he had a love-’em-and-leave-’em reputation. Facts were facts. She had put too much stock into their night together. Their...liaison.
Oh, God. That was all it had been.
Icy hot humiliation settled around her. She bit her lip until it throbbed in time with her pulse. She sat there—just sat there—for several long minutes, letting reality seep into her pores, flogging herself with I-told-you-sos.
You knew this was a very plausible outcome. Whenever she violated her gut instinct, she always lived to regret it.
Now, if she knew what was good for her, she’d get herself together. No moping. No sniping at Christopher. No looking back with regret.
She would not let this interfere with her work.
Because in her work, she would find the solidity that would distract her and camouflage the despair that colored everything in sight.
For what must’ve been the hundredth time, Kinsley reminded herself that the Fortunes considered blood thicker than water. She didn’t want to chance losing her job should someone disapprove of her affair with Christopher. Or worse yet, if talk started around the office that Kinsley was attempting to sleep her way to the top, Christopher might see her as a burden and decide the office would be better off without her.
If she had learned one thing growing up in an abusive home, it was that the less attention you drew to yourself, the better off—the safer—you were in the long run. That meant no more jealous outbursts like the time she thought he was dating his etiquette coach.
From this moment forward, she would put a smile on her face and it would be business as usual.
Good thing, too, because when she looked up, Christopher was standing in her doorway smiling and holding a big presentation board.
* * *
Christopher was simply flat-out scared to fall in love. He recognized that but had no idea what to do, besides stop hiding and acting like a child. Kinsley deserved better than that.
He knew he had been distant, using the excuse that he had been immersed in work, busy coming up with a plan for them to use as a follow-up to the initiative that they’d started at the Spring Fling.
But if he were completely honest with himself, he had been avoiding Kinsley. By doing so, he didn’t have to face his feelings.
Why could he analyze so easily, but he had no idea what to do with it?
He had been heartened by his father’s newfound respect and bolstered by his uncle’s good report.
With this newfound support system, in a day and a half he had managed to outline the basics of the follow-up program. His initial reaction had him wanting to involve Kinsley, but fear caused him to back away. He simply needed a cooling-off period, time to put things into perspective and remember how to be her colleague without wanting to undress her and lay her flat across his desk.
But seeing her at the elevator yesterday, he knew that his silence was hurting her. Hell, it was hurting him. But last night he’d decided that in a similar way that he’d reached out to Deke, he needed to break the ice with Kinsley.
He thought the best way to do that—at least, for starters—was to ask her opinion on the new idea.
As he stood in her office doorway, gripping the presentation board, he felt the same pull of attraction that he felt every time he looked at her.
“May I come in?” he asked.
Her blue eyes looked wary as she smiled at him. Her professional smile. He recognized it.
“Sure,” she said.
He left the door open on purpose, to discourage the conversation from veering off on a personal path.
“Remember how I told you yesterday that I had come up with a new plan for us to use in the schools?”
She nodded. Yep. Her wall was up. He recognized that, too.
“This is intended as a tool for school guidance counselors to use.” Damn, this was harder than he had expected. The way she was looking at him...it was more like she was staring right through him. “I hope that it will help kids remember to not just stand there when someone is in trouble, but to act.”
He realized that he was nervous as he turned the board around, showing her the acronym GET INVOLVED. Each letter of the words stood for an element of the program.
Christopher watched Kinsley as she read the board, her lips pressed into a thin line.
When she was finished, she simply nodded and said, “Get Involved, huh? That’s good advice. Even if it is a little ironic coming from a man who seems to do everything in his power to avoid doing exactly that.”
Chapter Thirteen
On Wednesday morning, Christopher still couldn’t get Kinsley’s face out of his head. The way she’d looked as she’d read the GET INVOLVED acronym.
She’d had good reason for looking so upset. The words obviously hit home.
Sitting at his desk, he rested his forehead on his palm. He was such an idiot. How could he not have seen the irony of the message before he brought it to her?
As soon as she’d read it, he’d seen it in her eyes. Sure, she kept a professional poker face, but she couldn’t disguise the hurt. She’d told him it was perfect and then excused herself, saying she had a lunch engagement.
She’d walked out, leaving him sitting there with his presentation board on the desk and his foot in his mouth. He needed to practice what he preached.
GET INVOLVED?
His problem was that he was too afraid to get involved. So ridiculously terrified—of what? He had better figure it out because his fear was going to cost him the best thing that had ever happened to him.
They needed to talk about this. Even if he didn’t know what to say. He needed to let her know it wasn’t her; it was him. That she was smart and beautiful and deserving of so much more than he could offer.
He picked up the phone to call her office. But then he put it back down in the cradle. Maybe he should just go talk to her. Common sense told him he should wait until after work. He didn’t want to upset her, but that seemed as though he wasn’t giving her enough credit.
He got up from his desk and made his way into the reception area, but before he could get to Kinsley’s office, Bev intercepted him.
“Mr. Jamison just called,” she said. “He wants to see you in his office right away.”
Christopher made his way to Emmett Jamison’s wing of the building. His administrative assis
tant, Clara, was expecting him.
“Oh, good, there you are,” she said. “He wants to see you but he has another meeting at 10:30.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, no problem. You have plenty of time. Go right in.”
As Christopher walked toward Emmett’s door, he heard Clara inform him that Christopher was on his way in.
For a fleeting second, he wondered if this had to do with the talk he had had with his father. But then that gave way to the guilt he felt over how things had turned out with Kinsley. Surely, she wouldn’t have lodged a complaint against him, would she?
No, that would be completely out of character for her. But he couldn’t ignore the little voice that jabbed at him and said she would be completely within her rights. He should’ve been stronger and not taken advantage of her while she was vulnerable, even though that’s not at all what he had intended.
The same jabbing voice brought up words like love and feelings, but he ignored it as he rapped on Emmett’s door.
“Come in.”
Christopher opened the door and stepped inside. He was immediately set at ease by the broad smile that graced Emmett’s face.
“Just the man I wanted to see,” Emmett said. “Have a seat, please.” He gestured to a chair in front of his desk.
Christopher complied.
As soon as he was settled Emmett picked up the display board that outlined the GET INVOLVED program. He tapped it with his finger.
“This is good work.”
He paused, as if letting the praise ring in the air.
“You have done some impressive work in your short time here at the Foundation. I’m not the only one who has taken notice. But before I tell you what I have in mind, let me ask you, are you happy with what you’re doing? Because you sure are doing a good job.”
“I love what I’m doing. I truly feel like I’ve found my calling here at the Foundation.”
“Great, that’s exactly what I was hoping you would say. I have an opportunity I would like to talk to you about. We have discovered the need for a presence in New York City. I know New York is very different than Red Rock, but the work would be similar. We—the board, your uncle James, Lily and I—were hoping that you would be willing to take on the challenge. How would you feel about relocating to New York City and opening that office for us? We would love for you to be the man in charge. If anyone can do it, you could.”
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