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I started making my way to the developers’ floor. It would be nice if I could address all of IT at once, but the developers were, as far as I was concerned, the heart and soul of the company. I didn’t do much development these days, but that was where I had started, building this company from the ground up. Now, I had teams for sales, teams for research, teams for operations. It was hard to believe that this had all started as a one-man operation.
I nodded to each person I passed, greeting them by name when I could. And that was most people. I made it a point of pride that I could identify anyone who had been with the company six months or more by name and position. So it didn’t surprise me when I exited the elevator and instantly recognized the man walking past, wearing tight black slacks and a blue button-down shirt with a matching pinstriped vest. What did surprise me was who it was. But I’d recognize those eyes anywhere. They’d been staring at me in my dreams every night since I’d met him.
“Michael?”
At the sound of his name, he stopped and turned, a look of confusion on his face. But if I had any questions about whether he would remember me, they were gone once those eyes met mine. He recognized me, all right.
“What in the world are you doing here?” I asked.
“I work here,” he said, and that damn determination that originally drew me to him flashed across his face. “I told you, I make my own way.”
“That was what, three months ago?” Two months, twenty days, to be exact, but who was counting? I told myself it was because it was Betsy’s funeral, that’s why I remembered the date so clearly. I knew I was full of shit.
He smoothed his hair back with a triumphant smile. “You actually gave me the idea. I researched paid internships, and here I am.” Another look crossed his face. I wasn’t sure what it was, what it meant, and before I could dig in, it was gone, and his expression was guarded. “What are you doing here?” he asked suspiciously.
“I...have some business here.” I had told him I owned a software consulting firm, right? I knew I had, because I had offered him a job. But, clearly, I hadn’t told him anything else about it, or he might have connected my company to me. I don’t know why I didn’t just come out with the full truth right there. I knew I wanted to crack open that emotional armor that had just slammed down between us, and hiding who I was wasn’t going to help. He’d find out soon enough. I was surprised we hadn’t run into each other yet, as it was.
I couldn’t help myself. I stepped close to him, taking in a great breath of his scent. He stepped back, but I followed. I had to ask him. “Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”
His lip trembled, and I couldn’t help but think how bitable it looked.
“It was just a thing, Porter. Just a night.”
Something in his eyes said it had been more than that. But if he had thought of me the way I had been thinking of him, why was he keeping his distance now?
“It would have been nice to see you again,” I said simply.
He looked like he was at a loss for words, and then shrugged. “I’d love to have answers for you, Porter, but I don’t right now. I...I can’t talk. I have to get to a meeting.”
Without saying goodbye, he turned and walked away. I took the opportunity to enjoy the view as I followed him. Even if his name had come across my desk as a new hire, I wouldn’t have noticed it. Hell, I didn’t even know Michael’s last name and there must’ve been a million Michael’s in my city. , If he was headed where I thought he was heading, this department meeting had just gotten much more interesting.
Chapter Thirteen
Michael
Pull it together. Pull it together. Pull it together. I splashed the cold water on my face for the fourth time, thinking somehow it would help. Crap, he’d seen me like this, huge crescents under my eyes, proving my lack of sleep. Which shouldn’t be a concern considering the bun in my oven.
What was he doing here? I racked my brain for any recollection of gossip about a visiting CEO and came up blank. I’d only been here a couple of weeks, but from what I could tell, if a fancy schmancy CEO was stopping by, we were usually given the heads-up. According to my department head, Francine, it was so we stopped slacking. No one slacked in our department as far as I could tell. I got the impression it was so we dressed the part because casual Friday tended to seep into all of the days of the week. We were the behind-the-scenes people, so jeans and casual slacks were usually fine.
Grabbing a paper towel, I patted my face dry before glancing at the time. Great. I was five minutes late for the department meeting with my new boss, Montgomery Dahl. That was the last thing I needed. It was bad enough they were going to figure out before long that I had a six-week maternity leave with my name on it. That was going to go over well. I shook my head, needing to clear that thought and reminding myself it would all work out. It had to. I was no longer in this alone. I had a little one on the way who was going to rely on me for everything.
Throwing the paper in the trash, I took a deep breath and schooled my face. I couldn’t let him frazzle me. I would attend my meeting and then find him. He needed to know about the baby. This was not the reconnection I wanted when I first looked for him. That had been more about the guilt I had for leaving and the completely irrational sense of missing him that overwhelmed me from time to time. Must be pregnancy hormones. That’s a thing. Right?
First things first, I needed to get to my meeting. If I was lucky, they might be dawdling and drinking coffee instead of starting on time. A handful of steps and a turn around the corner stole that last bit of hope from me. The door was shut. Stopping briefly, I decided going in was better than knocking first, and twisted the handle before inching it open.
The voice that filled the air as the seal of the door broke shook me to my core. It was Porter. My Porter. The father of my baby, our baby. What was he doing here? His voice stopped as the door fully opened. My cubicle mates and Francine were now staring at me as Porter continued to speak, breaking long enough to tell me to take a seat.
He was saying something about new technologies, and that was all I got from his talk. My brain was buzzing a mile a minute, my eyes glued to his mouth, wanting him to be speaking to me, only me, kissing me. Heck, a little nibble would be nice, too. After what seemed like a couple of minutes, but the clock indicated was actually an hour, the people around me started to stand, and I slammed into reality.
Fuck, yes. I missed the entire thing. Why was Porter here, and why was he the only one speaking?
“Do not think your tardiness went unnoticed, Mr. Martin,” Francine announced a little louder than necessary.
“I apologize. I was in the restroom.” Great. Now everyone still in the room thought I was having gastrointestinal issues. Not that I cared what they thought, except for Porter. The last thing I wanted him thinking about was me on the toilet.
“Make sure it doesn’t happen again.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Who was I? I didn’t “yes ma’am, no sir” people. It wasn’t even regional here, so I couldn’t use that as an excuse. I needed to get out of here before I made an even bigger fool of myself, if that were possible.
