Donna looked away and rolled her eyes, but Jessica plowed on, "I mean, he's not my Eric. Not now. I promise you. I didn't know. I was even thinking about breaking up with him last night, in fact, not that he'd done anything wrong. It—it just felt like it was time."
She turned Donna back to face her, by gently pulling her chin. "Before I could say anything, though, he told me that he'd met someone. He met you, Donna. And I couldn't be happier that he did. I think you're really going to be good for him, and he deserves the best. So do you. I mean that."
Donna's cold eyes reflected a slight thaw. She took Jessica by the hands, shaking her head slowly. "I would never have taken a guy away from a friend."
"I know that," Jessica said, pleased that Donna considered her a friend. "I don't want things to be awkward between us."
Donna shrugged. "I don't, either—it's just that you and he were together for a while, I gather."
Jessica sighed and nodded. "We were; it's true. But I never saw him look as happy when he was with me as I saw him when he was talking about you. How about this—I'll give you some space. Get to know Eric on your own terms. Lord knows, I apparently didn't know him that well, from what I saw last night! He was like a different person." She dropped Donna's hands and smiled as she tilted her head. "When you're ready to reconnect, I'll be right here." She pointed at herself. "I'll be the single gal over in the corner."
That made Donna giggle normally. "Like that'll last. The single girl with the gorgeous flowers on her desk." Her eyes widened as they walked. "Eric didn't send those, I gather, so who did?"
Jessica wasn't ready to talk about that yet, especially with the meeting coming up. "Long story," she said, dismissing the subject as she stepped into her cubicle area. "Maybe one day."
"Could I have your attention please?" Skip had a hand-held mic at the front of the room. "Can everybody hear me?"
Gary, a notorious flirt, yelled from the back of the room. "I think you'd better come a little closer, Skip!" The room erupted in restrained laughter.
Skip smirked good-naturedly but caught Paul's eye in the back of the group. "Paul, would you please go teach Gary some manners? Thanks, honey." He sniffed into the mic. "Ladies and gentlemen—not you, Gary—it gives me great pleasure to introduce our new editor, Worth Vincent."
There was polite applause. Everyone was a bit on edge, not knowing what to expect. When Maureen had first taken over as editor of Our Place, many heads had rolled, from what Jessica had heard. Another writer caught Jessica's eye with a "yikes" expression, intended as sympathy. Jessica was the newbie, the latest hire, after all. If anyone was getting the axe, it would be Jessica. Even though she knew it would not, at least not any time soon, she suddenly realized that that was the general assumption.
Damn, she thought, turning her attention to Worth. He's as handsome as ever.
"Good morning, everyone," he began. "I appreciate you letting me interrupt your schedules, and I'll quote Shakespeare here: 'Since brevity is the soul of wit/ And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief…' By the way, I also appreciate brevity. I want more stories with less verbiage—I think that will be effective in increasing readership and sales. Not that the numbers are bad now." He held up a hand for clarification. "In fact, that's one reason you caught our attention. You've already got a strong magazine. Together, my mother and I think we can make it even stronger."
"'Mother?'" a man murmured behind Jessica. "Mama's boy? Sheesh. I wonder if he's gay, entitled, or just a loser."
Jessica stifled a laugh, letting her mind wander back to her encounter with Worth at the party. Definitely not gay. Maybe he had felt a little too entitled to her attention, but the only thing he came close to losing was that costume.
I would have known it wasn't Eric then, she thought, confident that she could at least tell a few things in the dark. You didn't even notice he had a different beard. Or was bald, her inner self reminded her. Face it, you didn't care who it was at the moment.
And then everyone was looking at her.
Worth continued. "Jessica? Maybe she didn't hear me, folks. Or she was ignoring me? I have that effect on women at times." More polite laughter as Jessica made her way to the front, the employees parting to let her pass, many of them with raised eyebrows.
"That was quick work," someone murmured.
"Mmmhmmm," another answered.
As she walked to the front—for what reason, she had no clue, since she'd been mentally wrapped around Darth Vader in the throes of passion—she felt her cheeks flush with heat.
"We've been following Jessica Daniels' work for some time," Worth was saying. "To be frank, the fact that she had been recruited to write for you was one of the reasons we pursued the purchase in the first place. And although she's been doing a great job in the last few months, I've asked her to change hats, so to speak. Or at least add another. Meet our monthly 'back page' columnist. Jessica, take a bow."
Jessica's eyes narrowed a little in reply, but she turned and gave a little wave to the room as she took the mic from her new boss. "Thanks, guys," she said. "When Mr. Vincent asked me about making the transition, I was pleased to do whatever I could for the magazine, especially," as she turned to face Worth, "when he assured me that
