The bell dings and the elevator door slides open. A man is getting off, so I step back to give him some room.
“Where the hell have you been!”
I glance up, and he’s staring at me with shocked eyes.
“What—” But before I can even ask, he lunges for me. I dodge back, but the hall is narrow and there isn’t much place to go. I don’t have time to work up a protest, and then he rips the dog out of my arms.
“You scared me!” he says. He’s a big man. Not as big as Gordo, but solid. And now he’s shaking with relief as the dog wriggles in his arms and makes desperate, happy whimpering noises as it tries to kiss his entire face with its tiny tongue.
“Don’t ever do that again.” He doesn’t even look at me as he gets back on the elevator. The dog seems to whine in agreement, and then the door slides shut again, leaving me alone.
I don’t—
I don’t know what to say.
Did that just happen?
The drying doggy spit on my chin says yes, but—
I kinda wish Gordo had been here so he could corroborate my story for future retellings.
A desperate giggle tries to escape, and I clap my hand over my mouth to keep it down. I should have brought the dog to Lachlan. Then I’d have a witness, and Lachlan would have something to snuggle with and maybe cheer him up.
But the man in the elevator seemed so relieved. How did that even happen? The dog made a break for it on another floor and has been having wild adventures up and down this hotel. The way the man clutched at it said he might never let that little doggy’s feet touch the floor ever again.
The giggle, trapped in my throat, makes tears leak out of the corners of my eyes.
Shit, am I crying now? Over a dog?
But yup. Here I am, when I’m supposed to be in another workshop about executive leadership or some bullshit, and instead I’m standing in front of the elevator fucking crying.
I need to get my head on straight. They’ll be eyeing me like Lachlan soon. The diseased gazelle at the back of the pack.
I pull myself together. Text Gordo. You’ll never guess what happened. But he doesn’t reply, so I guess he’s gone out. Looking for a property to buy so he can set up a Vegas branch of his clinics? Maybe he already has a Vegas branch. God. There’s so much I don’t know about him, and I feel like he knows everything there is about me.
No one seems to notice or care when I sneak into the workshop. Jake’s giving the talk today. His gaze slides over me as I enter, and he smiles to himself, but he keeps talking. I sit down in the back of the room, slumping as low as I can in my chair. Fuck taking notes. Fuck planning next steps. I’m not changing anymore for these assholes. They clearly know the value I offer to the organization. Jake’s getting his quarterly calls and I’m getting on with my life. I run Canada now. All of it.
When the talk is over, I basically leap out of my seat and head for the door. Gordo still hasn’t answered my text, but I’m pretty sure if I go lie in bed and send him a few tasteful nudes—okay, maybe not so tasteful. Gordo’s the man of mystery in this relationship, not me—he’ll be back soon enough.
Except Jake must have discovered teleportation, because before I can leave, he’s already standing by the door.
“Well, hey there,” he says.
“Hi. Great talk.” I go to push past him, but he sticks to me like Velcro.
“Going somewhere?”
“I left something in my room,” I say, trying to pick up the pace, but we’re trapped walking behind two slowpokes from some regional branch office who don’t know I’m about to mow them down.
“Good,” Jake says, without missing a step. “For a second, I thought you forgot about our lunch with Ed.”
“We’re having drinks later,” I say.
“Mm, no. I tried drinks, but he’s busy. Didn’t you get my email?”
Goddammit. I glance down at my phone, and sure enough, there’s a calendar invite from Jake. Lunch with Ed. After Lachlan and the dog and everything else, I didn’t even bother checking my email this morning.
“Fine.” I stop so fast that Jake trips on the rug, and that at least makes me happy.
“Fine?” He looks surprised.
“Yeah, let’s go.”
His smile is cunning. I hate him so much. “What about the thing in your room?”
I picture Gordo, whose smile is always kind and who brought me breakfast in bed because that’s who he is. Bringing him here was the best and worst idea. Best, because obviously. Worst, because I can’t stay focused on work for more than a second without missing him. If I’d known how my “please pretend to be my boyfriend” plan was going to end up, I’d have never suggested it. He could have pined peacefully from the comfort of home, and we would have figured our shit out eventually.
“It can wait,” I say. “Lead the way. Let’s have lunch with Ed.”
14
Jake takes me to a sports bar. It’s so dark I can barely see. The only light comes from the floor-to-ceiling wall of TV screens that show every sporting event currently happening around the globe, from football to stock car racing to bowling. The flickering lights make me squint. Ed’s got a beer and a burger the size of his head as we sit down.
“Jack! Good to see you.”
I notice Jake doesn’t correct him as we take our seats.
“Ed, this is Bailey Baldwin from the Toronto office. We talked about him.”
“Yes, yes.” Ed wipes his hands on a paper napkin before reaching over to shake. “Heard great things about you. Glad you’re willing to hear what Jack here had to say.”
“Yes. Thanks, sir.”
“Can I get you a drink?” A server stops by the table.
“Tomato juice,” I say.
“Better be vodka in that tomato juice,” Ed says with a grin.
I glance at Jake, who casually orders a double rum and coke.
Sure, why not? “Manhattan,” I say. “Extra cherries.”
God, except I’m thinking of Gordo playfully stealing cherries off a plastic sword on an airplane. At the time it was annoying. Now it seems erotic as hell.
“So.” Ed claps his hands. “Canada. Jack says you’re the man for the job.”
Adrenaline pulses through me, but I do my best to sound confident when I say, “I think so, yes.”
“Shame about the other one. What was his name? Lawrence?”
“Lachlan,” I say.
“Yes, well, Jack said he wasn’t the guy. He’s been a big fan of yours from the beginning. Even before the deal was closed, he—”
“Bailey’s been a company man since day one,” Jake says. “Haven’t you?”
Something prickles at the back of my mind. “I guess. I mean, Lachlan’s been a friend. I wouldn’t want him to—”
But Ed waves a hand as the server comes back with drinks. “Hard decisions have to be made. It’s business, nothing personal. If you’re going to run the whole Canadian territory, you’ve got to toughen up there.” He punches my shoulder, and I do the bro chuckle that men do when they’re uncomfortable and don’t know what to say.