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"By all means, explain."

He shakes his head. "I prefer to keep myself out of this. It is very noble of you to want to save this company. I know it must hard for you, given all the . . . differences . . . you and Robert have had over the years, and I admire you for wanting to do the right thing. It was your father's company after all. I am certain if there is one person who can turn this company around, it is you. You are exceptionally intelligent and have the right amount of ruthlessness. But there are people I care for in this company, and I'd rather not be here to witness what will happen, even though they made mistakes. We all did, after all."

"I don't appreciate your insinuations, Donald," I say through gritted teeth. I played my own part in this company's demise; I know that. But I won't tolerate anyone rubbing it in my face.

"I meant no offense. I am certain you will have everything under control here in no time, Parker, just like you always do."

"If you want to leave, I am not going to stop you."

He nods and heads toward the door. I raise my cup of coffee to my lips, but it's cold already.

Damn it. I stand up, starting to pace around my office. I need something to distract me from everything going on. Without realizing, I start thinking of Jessica and what happened yesterday at the opera.

I wonder what she’s up to now, so instead of focusing on the madness here at the office, I text her.

Parker: How’s your day?

Jessica: I’ve had better.

I’m instantly on alert and call her, but she rejects it.

Jessica: Can’t talk. My asshole boss is patrolling around.

Parker: When do you leave work? Want to grab coffee?

Jessica: I need one more hour. I love coffee. Where do you want to meet?

Parker: There’s a quaint coffee shop near my office, but I can meet you anywhere.

Jessica: Noooo, I’ll come there. Dani said your office is somewhere around Regent Street? I LOV

E that area.

Her enthusiasm shines in her writing, making me smile. Then I text her the address of the coffee shop, smiling even broader when she replies with I’LL BE THERE along with ten exclamation marks.

I try to focus on work after that. I was counting on Donald to help, and now it looks like he’s going to bolt. One of the reasons I don’t trust people. When the going gets rough, they bolt. But my meeting with Jessica sure makes this day seem a whole lot better.

***

Jessica

.

I leave the museum after I email the report, and then practically fly out the door, heading to the subway. It’s packed at this hour, but I still love riding it. I climb out at the Station Oxford Circus, ignoring the sign that asks us to please avoid this station at rush hour, and instead exit at one of the other nearby stations. Breaking this small rule makes me giggle. I feel like a rebel.

Of course, I’m also sandwiched between a million commuters and body odor assaults my senses, but that’s another story.

I come out at the intersection between Regent Street and Oxford Street. These two, along with Bond Street, form my favorite trinity in London. The shops are to die for; red double-deckers can be spotted everywhere, along with red telephone booths.

I was shocked when I discovered that most booths have been repurposed. It makes sense, of course, but no one really uses them. Still, I was surprised when I saw a few that had been transformed in mini public libraries. One had a defibrillator in it.

I feel British around them.

One of the best things about this city? The restaurants. Lebanese cuisine is my personal favorite. I could eat falafel, hummus, and salads every day.

Before I cross the street, I look on the pavement on the markings that say Look Right or Look Left. I am used to the driving system by now, but by God those markings saved me from a hospital trip during my first weeks.

I forget all about my crappy day as I walk toward my meeting point with Parker. It’s a side street, narrower than the Big Three, but still boasting plenty of shops on both sides.

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