Page 30 of One Midnight Kiss

12

NATALIA

It had been a few days since the debacle with my car. I was avoiding Fox like the plague.

I was humiliated and angry with myself. I hated that Fox swooped in and saved me. He was the knight in shining armor I didn’t want. I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eyes. I had a feeling he would be smug.

I couldn’t deal with it.

I looked around the boardroom. The creative team was waiting for me to give them their marching orders. The first wave of advertising was going live tomorrow, with a larger campaign happening during the symposium Fox invited me to attend. I was nervous. I couldn’t explain why. But I really wanted to make sure we did well for him.

I might not be the first in line to buy the tech, but I had been doing some research. I knew it was inevitable. We may as well be part of the team shepherding it into the future.

“I think that’s it,” I said.

They all looked at me like I was crazy. It was early. They were all prepared to put in a long day. Normally, I would be here for the long haul. But for the first time in three years, I was going to be calling it an early day.

“If you guys have questions, shoot me an email,” I said. “That’s all I have.”

At first, it was just one of them. Then the others all scrambled to get their stuff together. They practically tripped over each other in their rush to get out. They were worried I was going to change my mind.

I wasn’t.

My first early day should have been for a better reason. It wasn’t because I finally decided to prioritize self-care. It wasn’t because I finished my workload early or because I had something exciting planned for the evening. No, it was because I couldn’t shake this awful, sluggish feeling that had been creeping up on me all day. I never got sick, so it wasn’t that. It couldn’t be that. Viruses and germs knew better than to mess with me. I was healthy. I drank green smoothies loaded with all kinds of stuff that boosted my immune system.

I refused to be sick.

I was just tired. Totally different. It was exhaustion catching up to me after spending the last two weeks in overdrive, pulling together the last-minute miracle campaign for HomeTech. For Fox.

I hated thinking of it that way. I hated even more that Fox had become a permanent fixture in my head since that night in the rain. It wasn’t Fox’s project. I was thinking about him like he was a friend. He wasn’t. We weren’t going to hang out. He was a client. Not even my client. The firm’s.

My phone buzzed on the table with a notification from Penelope. Meeting at four canceled.

I tapped out a quick reply, excusing her for the afternoon. I felt guilty leaving work and making Penelope stay. She had been busting her ass the last two weeks as well. We both deserved a few extra hours to recharge our batteries.

I went back to my office and gathered my things, practically dragging my feet as I walked to the elevator. The doors slid closed, and I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my burning eyes for a precious second.

The jolt when we hit the lobby snapped me awake. I stood up straight and pretended I was totally alert. No one else seemed to notice. I walked out of the building into the parking garage. In my car, I debated what to do next. It felt strange to be leaving the office so early.

Christa would be getting off soon, assuming there wasn’t an emergency or some other disruption in her routine. And she and I had not had any chance to catch up with just the two of us in a while. After sending a quick text to her, I drove to her house. The city blurred past me. I was so exhausted I barely paid attention to the Christmas decorations going up.

I knocked on her door and heard the dogs losing their shit. A moment later, Christa opened the door still wearing her scrubs.

“Hey!” she said, nudging the dogs back with her leg.

“Did you just get home?”

She nodded. “I actually got to leave on time. Shocker.”

I followed her inside, the dogs nearly taking me to my knees. Before they could, we sat down in the living room and I practically melted into the sofa.

Christa eyed me curiously. “Are you feeling okay? You look a little pale.”

“I’m fine,” I lied. “Just tired. It’s been a long couple of weeks.”

“Yeah, I figured,” she said before taking a sip from her mug. “Fox is gearing up for the big product launch and you’re on the front lines. It can’t be easy.”

Her casual mention of Fox sent an involuntary shiver down my spine. I tried to keep my expression neutral, but Christa noticed. She always noticed.