Or not deal, as he strictly demanded in his email.
Mark reiterated that we keep our contact with one another relegated to email and messages, strictly when necessary. I’ve only received one email from him since then. He’s been going through Suzette as an intermediary, but that isn’t going to work.
So, while everything in my life—literally, everything—is telling me to steer clear of Mark O’Brien, my desire to get at least one thing right pushes me to say screw his email.
Which is why I’m here, at this coffee shop across the street from Townsend Industries at seven-thirty this Thursday morning. The door chimes again, and my stomach turns over, and my heart races just a touch faster when I see Mark push himself through the door with one hand while holding it open with the other.
My heart squeezes as if someone fisted it. It’s not pity I feel for him as I watch how practiced he is at maneuvering his chair around the shop. There’s a quiet confidence that drapes over him, surrounding his every move. He wears it well. Same as he did back in high school. Back then, however, he’d been full of teenage bravado. Now, I find myself staring at a man, who despite the differences physically, knows his place in this world. He takes up as much space as he needs and makes not one apology for it.
“The hell are you doing here?” that same man growls at me as I step forward.
I work to hide my flinch and my surprise. I didn’t even realize I moved closer. I got lost in my thoughts about Mark, caught between the past and the present, and somehow, he was like a magnet, drawing me closer.
Shaking my shoulders, I look him in the eye and answer, “I’m looking for you.”
He narrows his eyes, and a small, yet powerful shiver, moves through me. He doesn’t intend for the look to be sexy in any way. I know that. I can see the anger in those hazel lenses, yet somehow, that sentiment isn’t being relayed to my warming body.
“For what?” he asks through gritted teeth.
At that, I almost roll my eyes but catch myself. It’s better not to piss him off any more than he always is.
“For work.”
“Anything you need to tell me about work can be relayed through email or Suzette.”
“That’s not possible, and you know it. As good as she is, Suzette doesn’t know the ins and outs of this merger the way I assume you do.”
“You assume.” He gives me a measured look.
Swallowing, I nod. “Yes. A man like Aaron Townsend wouldn’t have made you head of this merger if you weren’t well versed in all its particulars.”
“I’m not the head of this merger. He is.”
That time I do roll my eyes because I’m finding this conversation frustrating.
“You know what I mean. He put you in charge of all the major communications and essentially has made you the project manager. You report directly to him. You know your stuff, and I need to work directly with you.”
“Which we’ll do via email.” He turns back toward the door.
I run ahead of him, stopping just between him and the front door. “You know that won’t work. It hasn’t been working well, and we’re only three days in.”
“Move.”
My body tenses at the menacing undertone of his voice. I step aside to give him space to vacate the door.
Somehow, I find the strength to shake off the fear that overcomes me and follow him out the door. The sight of him rolling away from me causes my heart to sink.
“When did you become so unbendable?” I demand, running to get in front of him again.
He stops abruptly, and the storm clouds gathering in his eyes tell me that was precisely the wrong choice of words.
“Probably the day I woke up in that fucking hospital.”
My stomach clenches at the depth of emotion in those words. I press my hands against it to keep myself from falling to my knees.
“Mark, I-I’m sorry.”
“Save it. Save your I’m sorrys or whatever the fuck else you were about to say. I don’t need it. Not sixteen years later.”
He’s right. It’s more than a decade and a half too late. And the truth is, it’s just as dangerous for me to be this close to Mark now as it was sixteen years ago. Yet my job hinges on it.
“No apologies,” I say, shaking my head. “But you need this job as much as I do.”
He angles his head to