to give my notice, and now that Severin was committed to the ask, it seemed more timely than ever. I couldn’t keep getting sucked back into my career at the expense of finding myself. Decisions had to be made.
“You know, it’s a damn good thing you lost your phone and I flew over. We make a hell of a team, Martin. This campaign is going to be huge. This could go even bigger than the hot-wings challenge. There is so much we can do to promote this. It’s going to be amazing.”
“I think you’re going to be brilliant,” I said.
He looked at me and his brow furrowed. “Don’t you mean we?”
“No.” I shook my head. “When we call Aidan about Severin, I’ll be giving my notice, effective immediately.”
His eyes went wide with disbelief.
“When you say ‘notice,’ you mean notice of how awesome your coworker is, right?” he asked.
“No.” I shook my head, trying not to smile.
The taxi stopped in front of Café Zoe, and Jason stepped out, holding his hand out for me. I noted how warm his fingers were, while mine were icy cold. Jason didn’t let go while he paid our driver, forcing me to wait. I knew he was going to have more to say about me resigning and he probably didn’t want me to get away. It was unnecessary; I wanted to clear the air before I called Aidan.
When the cab drove off, he turned to face me and I glanced up at him.
“Are you quitting because of last night?” he asked.
“No,” I said. “I’m quitting because you don’t need me for this anymore,” I said. “And I have things I need to do, things that aren’t about the ACC or . . . you.”
“So if it isn’t about last night,” he said, running an exasperated hand through his hair, “is it because I punched the jackass?”
“No, it isn’t,” I insisted. “It’s about me being on a journey to figure some things out and not being able to do it, because I’m a crazy workaholic who is still working when I’m supposed to be on leave and getting my life together.”
“You just scored a major ask for the ACC. How much more together could your life be?”
“A lot,” I said. I shivered against the evening cold. Jason immediately let go of my hand, shrugged off his jacket, and, ignoring my protests, dropped it about my shoulders. “Which reminds me, why the hell did you tell Severin you’d meet them in Italy with me? You know I have plans.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “For his ten-million-dollar donation, I’d agree to meet him in the burning fires of hell with my body oiled in flame accelerant and wearing a grass skirt, or on a potato farm on Mars.”
I tried not to laugh at the mental images and managed it, mostly. “You had no right,” I protested.
“Maybe not,” he said. “But if it means the difference between us getting the ask or not, I’d do it again.”
Before I could respond, he took my elbow and escorted me into our building and up the stairs. He paused outside the door to my apartment while I searched for the key in my clutch bag. When my cold fingers grasped it, he took it and unlocked my door for me.
His voice was low when he said, “Listen, you don’t have to quit. We can figure out a way to keep the work thing separate from your . . . quest.”
I shook my head. “You know that’s not how this industry works. It’s all-consuming. I have to make a clean break.”
We stared at each other. His head was tipped to the side, and he shoved his hands in his pockets in that slouchy way he had. His mouth tipped up on one side.
“Chelsea, you can’t leave. You can’t leave me,” he said.
It reminded me so much of our conversation in my office just a few weeks ago that I smiled. He must have said it on purpose, because his lips twitched and he added, “I stand by it. Now more than ever.”
“I have to,” I said. I reached up to adjust my earring, but he caught my hand with his. He laced our fingers together, and I remembered that he’d noticed that was my tell when I was upset. I forged on, refusing to be charmed by him.
“You know, there’s no guarantee you’re going to be able to find the old Chelsea in Italy,” he said. “This guy you’re meeting could be married