Your Room or Mine?

his mind. And his heart-where she’d unfortunately managed to burrow.

After a sleepless night spent tossing and turning, reliving every moment he’d spent with Maddie, moments he wanted desperately to forget, Jack hauled his tired ass to work Tuesday morning and immediately headed to the break room for a much-needed cup of coffee. He’d just taken his first sip when a man he didn’t recognize entered the room. Jack judged him to be in his late thirties. He was well dressed and offered Jack a friendly good morning.

Since the good part was highly debatable, Jack replied, “ ’Morning. I don’t think we’ve met.” He extended his hand. “Jack Walker.”

The man gave his hand two firm pumps. “The CFO. Good to meet you. Walter Langdon. I’m with Lazer Consultants.”

Jack barely managed to hide his grimace at the name of the firm Maggie worked for. “Here to assist Ms. Price?”

“Actually I’m her replacement. I’ll be taking over her office.”

Jack’s hand halted so abruptly midsip that some of his coffee sloshed over the rim of his cup onto the floor. Feeling as if he’d just walked into a theater in the middle of the movie, he lowered his mug to the counter and stared at Walter Langdon. “You’re replacing Maddie? When did this happen?”

“Yesterday. But don’t worry, Gavin’s brought me up to speed on everything. The transition will be seamless.”

“Why the change? Was it her idea or Gavin’s?”

Walter shrugged and poured himself a cup of coffee. “I believe it was mutual.” He took a sip and gave a satisfied ahhh. “Great coffee, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from Java Heaven. Good to meet you, Jack. We’ll be seeing a lot of each other over the next month.” Cup in hand, Walter left the break room.

Jack stared at the empty doorway, feeling poleaxed. Which was ridiculous. He should be celebrating. No more Mad Dog Price. He’d never have to lay eyes on her again. And out of sight meant out of mind, which was great. Yeah, great. He was happy. Really happy. Happy, damn it.

Okay, maybe happy was too strong a word. Maybe miserable was better. And even though he shouldn’t care, even though it didn’t matter, he found himself striding toward Gavin’s office. To find out what happened with Maddie. And why the new consultant thought they’d be working together for the next month when Jack would be gone in two weeks. Which Gavin damn well knew since Jack had left his letter of resignation on Gavin’s desk before leaving late last night.

“Got a minute?” he asked, knocking on Gavin’s open door when he arrived.

“C’mon in, Jack,” Gavin said, waving him in. “Feeling better today?”

The question irked him-as if his resignation was some sort of tantrum-but he swallowed his irritation. “I feel fine. I felt fine yesterday. I just met Walter Langdon in the break room.”

Gavin nodded. “The new consultant. Nice guy.”

“What happened to Maddie?”

Gavin blew out a long breath and shook his head. “I’m afraid she just didn’t work out.”

“So her leaving was your idea?”

“Yes. After that report she gave me, I didn’t really have a choice. She and I just weren’t on the same page.”

Jack’s brows pulled into a frown. “What do you mean? What was wrong with the report?”

“She didn’t do what I asked. She knew her objective at the team building was to recommend which employees should be cut from your department. Instead she gave me a bunch of reasons and recommendation as to why no cuts should be made. That’s not what I hired her to do-so I asked that she be replaced with someone who could get the job done.”

Everything inside Jack went still. “You led me to believe her report recommended the cuts. Named names.”

“I never said that.”

Jack tried to replay yesterday’s conversation with Gavin, but his thoughts were in too much turmoil with the sickening realization that he’d made a mistake. A very big mistake.

“As far as naming names,” Gavin continued, “I’m giving you first crack at it, but if you don’t pick the five to go, I will.”

Jack cleared his throat to loosen the tightness there. “You seem to forget that I’ve formally resigned. In writing.”

Gavin waved his hand. “You were angry. I understand.” His gaze hardened. “Just don’t do it again, Jack. I don’t care for ultimatums.”

“I didn’t give you one. I gave you my two weeks’ notice. But you’re right. I’d like to rescind it.”

A smug grin curved Gavin’s lips. “I knew you would.”

“Instead, I’m resigning effective immediately.” He planted his hands on Gavin’s desk and leaned forward. “I’m not going to be a party to watching that department die a slow death. Good luck. You’re going to need it.” He turned on his heel and headed toward the door.

“You can’t just walk out like this.”

Jack paused long enough to say, “Yes, I can. And I have.” Without another word, he strode to his office, where he quickly packed his meager personal belongings in a box then headed for the elevator. He made a mental note to contact the staff and explain, but that would have to wait until tomorrow.

Right now there was something far more urgent he needed to take care of.

Eleven

On Tuesday evening, Maddie walked the short distance from the MARTA train station to her midtown condo, relieved that the long day was over. She couldn’t wait to peel off her suit, slip on her comfy pj’s, plop herself in front of the TV, and drown her sorrows in the half gallon of rocky road ice cream waiting in her freezer. Her common sense knew there wasn’t enough rocky road on the planet to make her forget Jack, but the misery eating at her insisted she at least try.

Jack. He hadn’t been out of her thoughts for a moment. Partly because she was completely furious with him. She still seethed at the way he’d wrongly assumed the contents of her report to Gavin. But he’d also haunted her thoughts, because as galling as it was to admit, she cared for him. A lot. Too much. She didn’t want to, had tried to talk herself out of it, but it was no use. In a shockingly short period of time he’d tattooed himself on her heart.

Last night, during a rocky-road marathon, she’d calmed down, and when she’d thought things through, realized that Jack clearly hadn’t read the report she’d written. Since Gavin had insisted he cut the department, she grudgingly had to admit that it wasn’t totally offbase for Jack to conclude that her report had recommended downsizing. Of course, she was pissed that he hadn’t asked her or given her the benefit of the doubt before letting the accusations fly. He definitely owed her an apology.

Yet, after a sleepless night and difficult day, she’d concluded that she also owed him one. She’d been enraged, deeply hurt, and mortified at the possibility that he’d slept with her to influence her report. But when she recalled his face when she’d asked him, he’d looked positively stunned, then unmistakably hurt. Looking back, she could clearly see that her question had shocked him and she knew, in her heart, without a doubt, that she’d been wrong to doubt him.

Which left her with an aching sense of loss eating at her and a need to apologize. Which was why she’d spent her lunch hour at the Hallmark store, searching for the perfect card to send him. She’d finally found it and had written him a short note and included her phone number. When she arrived home she’d look up his address, slap a stamp on the envelope, and hope for the best. Maybe he would call. She prayed he would. Because if he didn’t she’d have to check herself into rocky road rehab.