“No, it was true!” Marj insisted. “You’re all oh-I-am-so-ashamed and then the next thing you’re pounding donuts and fantasizing about any man who walks by. Good thing Freeman’s out of the office today or you might take the creep up on it.”
“I’m not that far gone. Thanks for the water and the tough love. I’m going to go pee now.”
“At least all that water gave you something else to think about,” Marj replied.
The retirement day dawned, and she put a scarf on with her button-down as a tribute to the festive mood. In eight short hours, Freeman would be gone, and his reign of chauvinistic groping would be over. She arrived at work more cheerful than she’d been in days. She churned out spreadsheets and double-checked numbers. She updated the business deductions file. When two o’clock came, time for the party, she was beyond ready. In the conference room of their firm, they came together with two-liters of lukewarm soda, plastic cups, a sheet cake and what appeared to be leftover Christmas paper plates. When Marj called for a knife to cut the cake, a surprising number of female employees announced that they had one in their desk drawers, and they all laughed except for Freeman who failed to get the humor.
He made a windy speech about his time at the firm and how he’d come to care about all of them as family. Then he accepted his cuff links, said thanks and announced he was going to introduce Phillip Fitzsimmons, the new chief operating officer.
“Phil is slowing down from his days heading up the FZ Communications conglomerate, and wanted a new challenge...a boutique consulting firm he can steer into the big time the way he turned his company into a multinational force. With him, he brings his youngest son to add his graphic design talent to our marketing team. Please join me in welcoming Phil Fitzsimmons and his son Jack.”
Everyone clapped except Britt who knew instinctively that no matter how common the name Jack was, it was destined to be the one Jack she didn’t want to see again, the one she dreamed about at night and who had the potential to screw up her professional life the same way he’d invaded her fantasies. There he was, in a suit and tie, no faded tight jeans and button down. His hair was slicked back and he looked like any other suit, a little more handsome perhaps. Okay, confession time. He looked so damn hot!
Jack.
Oh my gosh!
Her heart was beating a million miles a minute. What were the chances she’d run into him again? This was like something out of a Lifetime movie. And out of all the places to run into him, why work?
His dad gave a speech about how his doctors told him he had to cut back on his work, but he was bored at the golf course, so he took on this new project.
The whole time, Britt stared at Jack. There he was, the man who had sent her over the edge with only his fingers, who had kissed her mouth until she forgot who she was. A man she would now have to work with. Their company only had one floor of the building. She was bound to run into him. Right then, she resolved to give up coffee, so she didn’t have to go in the break room. She’d bring a bottle of water from home. It would be fine. Marj worked in marketing. She’d have to stop visiting Marj’s cubicle. There went what passed for her social life. She groaned.
“You okay?” Marj whispered. Britt nodded, eyes wide, trained on Jack, never swerving for a second.
“Got a crush on the new guy?”
“No, he just reminds me of a guy I knew in school.” Britt lied, never taking her eyes off of him. Those dark blue eyes, the long fingers, the bit of dark hair on his wrists and hands that sent her licking her lips. It was sensory overload. She was afraid she’d fling herself at him and beg. So she pretended he reminded her of a classmate, tried to appear detached.
/> “Nobody I went to school with looked like that. Bunch of losers doing keg stands,” Marj snorted. Britt nodded without bothering to laugh. She was too focused on him.
Chapter 10
After the welcome speeches, Freeman started leading the Fitzsimmons men around the room to make introductions. It took him a while to get to Britt, and she thought seriously about dodging to the bathroom and hiding out. Still, she stood her ground, knowing she’d have to face him sometime. She was blinking hard, wiping nervous palm sweat on her pant leg surreptitiously.
“Ah, Phil, Jack, here’s my favorite accountant, Brittney Collier. Brittney, meet my replacement and his son.” Freeman said, going to pat her back but his hand landing distressingly near her butt.
Britt managed a tight smile and shifted a little away from Freeman. She held out her hand in what she hoped was a genial manner.
“Pleased to meet you both,” Britt said.
Phillip Fitzsimmons shook her hand.
“Good to put a face with the financial statements I’ve been reading,” he said. “My son here is more on the creative side of things.”
“Good to meet you, Ms. Collier,” Jack said smoothly.
“You can call me Britt, Mr. Fitzsimmons.”
“Jack,” he said.
She felt her cheeks flush as she recalled crying out his name. It was a struggle to act normal, disinterested. She wanted to take his face in her hands and kiss him for about an hour. Or she wanted him to go away where she never had to see him again, never had to feel reckless and out of control again. She looked at him too long, with too much intensity. His dad probably thought she was a potential stalker the way she gazed at Jack. Attempting to recover her composure, although her palm tingled where he’d held her hand, she spoke up, saying the only thing that occurred to her.
“Jack. Make sure you fill out your W-2 and give it to me along with your routing number. That way I can get your direct deposit set up as soon as possible,” she said in a chipper voice, inwardly kicking herself for being so boring.
“Will do,” he said, releasing her hand and moving on to the next introductions without a backward glance.
Look at me, she thought. But he didn’t turn around.