I shouldn’t have minded. Hell, this one date was more than I’d ever expected from him, but I couldn’t help it. There was a part of me that felt a little heartsick at the thought.
Later that evening, we walked back to my apartment, and all the while he lectured me on the importance of locking my door and making sure I knew what was happening in my neighborhood. In truth, though, I was only half listening. A part of me was still back on the steps of the museum, thinking over everything he’d said and trying to understand the reason I’d been so affected.
It hit me right as we walked through the door of my building, and it was like a slap.
I was falling for him. Wrong. I had already fallen. Hard. Quirks and stern lips and all, I was head over heels.
Which, when it came to Jackson, was way, way too deep.
Chapter Fourteen
Jackson
Monday came in like a sledgehammer, taking out all my well-laid plans and sending everything into freefall.
I’d just hung up the phone with my legal department, and apparently the merger we’d spent months prepping for was at risk. There was some sort of zoning issue that might hold up a lucrative build, and the company on the other side of the merger was getting cold feet. All through the morning, before any of my regular employees walked through the doors, I was on the phone with managers at the other company, and then merger specialists, and still more acclaimed consultants, until my throat was dry.
To be honest, when the lights of the day went up and people started shuffling through the door, I barely even noticed. Instead, I was focused on the constant steady beat of my heart and the icy dread slowly seeping into my veins.
Of course, I wasn’t worried about myself. Hell, I wasn’t even worried about the company. Ninety percent of mergers didn’t go through, and that was a possibility I’d considered when I’d started this venture. But that didn’t change the fact that even here, on the executive level, some of my employees would be losing their jobs if I couldn’t make this work.
Vaguely, I thought of Clara in HR. She’d spent the last two weeks circling the office to get pledges for her son’s Jump Rope for Heart Disease event. Her husband had died of a heart attack only last year, and it meant everything to her that her little boy was taking action so young.
Then there was Frank. He’d asked for a raise a few weeks ago and for good reason. He’d been with the company almost since its inception, and he was helping to send his grandchildren to college.
The list went on. Every single one of these people had a story to tell—a reason they needed this job more than anything else. And the way I ran my company? There was no fat to trim. Anyone we lost here would be essential, and it would be impossible for me to reckon with the idea of letting them go.
So I wouldn’t.
I just had to figure out how to avoid it.
Clicking on an email labeled Urgent—as if everything else wasn’t—I glanced at my computer screen as a gentle knock sounded on my doorframe.
I swiveled in my chair to catch sight of Piper standing tall and patient with my first cup of coffee in her hand.
“You’re here early,” she said. “Half the office still isn’t here.”
“Got a call last night. Had to come in for some meetings.”
Her brow furrowed. “Is everything all right?”
I considered her for a long moment, wondering if I should tell her. It wasn’t usually done. Things like this tended to be need to know because they caused widespread employee panic over something that might not be a problem after all. Still, she wasn’t some gossipy assistant. She was Piper. And somehow I knew she’d have my back.
On a snap judgment, I decided to come clean. “There are issues with the merger that could lead to…downsizing if I don’t figure out what to do.”
“Downsizing?” she repeated and then snapped the office door shut behind her as she made her way to my desk and set down my cup of coffee.
I nodded. “I’m not sure on what scale yet. It could be very minor.”
“I understand. And I don’t blame you at all. I’m new and—”
Suddenly realizing how she must have taken my words, I rushed to correct myself. “No, I need an executive assistant. You wouldn’t be the one to go.”
“That’s not fair,” she said. “These people have put in more time than me. Any one of them could be a fine assistant.”
“That’s not the job they’d want.”
“You won’t know until you ask them,” she shot back. “It’s only fair. Like I said, I don’t want any special treatment.”
She made her way to the coffee pot in the corner of the room and began to fix herself a cup, and I was taken aback for a moment as a snatch of a light-blue button caught my eye.
“Are you still wearing your pin from the museum?” I asked.
She shot me a smile over her shoulder. “I thought…well, I thought it would be a nice reminder. But anyway, we have more important things to talk about than that. How are we going to save these jobs?”
“We?” I raised my eyebrows.
“Yes, we. I haven’t lost my job yet. I’m your assistant. Let me assist. Tell me, what’s our biggest concern? Shareholder confidence?”
I nodded. “There was a massive lead abatement issue with the other company last year. They own most of the buildings in the historic district, so we’re trying to corner that market and create refinished, refined luxury apartments with a hint of old-world elegance.”
“That’s a mouthful.” Piper grabbed her fresh cup of coffee and blew on the top of it.
“That’s what I said, too. A consultant came up with it, not me.”
“Oh, I know you didn’t write something that frilly. I’ve read your memos.” She grinned at me from the top of her coffee mug, and for a moment, I allowed myself to imagine how relaxing it would be to ignore the world and fall into Piper for an hour or two. To close the blinds and let all my problems fall away while our bodies eased the tension.
“Lunch today?” I asked.
She shook her head. “We’re going to be busy on this. We need all the time we can get. I’ll order lunch in for us. Now come on, let’s brainstorm.”
I nodded my acceptance. Guess it was time to stop thinking with my dick.
“Be right back,” she said and then hustled to her desk and reappeared with another huge dry-erase board.
“I’m half convinced you can conjure those from thin air,” I said.
“If only. Now let’s think.”
We drew the blinds to keep the other employees from seeing exactly what we were working on, but by the time lunch came around, we had a massive brainstorming board filled with presentation ideas and methods for preventative abatement, innovative strategies for keeping renovation of the apartments in-house, and a plan for not only keeping the jobs we had but creating new ones as well.
Piper wiped her hands together, stepped back, and admired her handiwork.
“Now,” she said, “I am going to grab our food so we can figure out how to implement each and every one of these ideas. You start drafting emails. The burger place on the corner sound good?”
I nodded, and she tossed me a glance over her shoulder as she stepped from the room again, leaving me to stare at the massive amount of work and ideas I would never have accomplished on my own.
But then again, that was the magic of Piper. No matter what happened, she seemed to sweep in and magically fix it. Already I could feel the steady, thrumming beat of my heart slowing and relaxing, my shoulders falling back into place where they belonged.
We had come up with a massive plan of attack, but if we were right—and if we devoted ourselves to the work—it just might save jobs.
Who knew? Maybe we’d be successful enough for me to give her a raise and convince her to move from her hole of an apartment.