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Syd had kidded him about the possibility of hormonal interference and he’d assured her that it wouldn’t be a problem. Now he had a feeling that the universe was laughing at him.
* * *
IN BETWEEN PHONE calls and filing, Chelsea spent the morning exploring drawers, cabinets and the computer. Nicole had apologized for not being able to provide more orientation and had promised they would be patient as she learned how the agency operated and what needed to be done.
Admittedly, the thought of meeting the rest of the agency’s partners made Chelsea nervous. Nicole had been terrific and Adam Wilding seemed nice. But Rachel Clarion and Logan Kensington were unknown quantities. Still, it seemed unlikely that Nicole would be friends and partners with people who were jerks. Besides, there would be even more unknowns at a different company.
Chelsea pulled out a stack of papers that had been shoved behind supplies on a bottom shelf, a miscellaneous collection of paid invoices, bills of lading and other documents. Before Adam had left, he’d mentioned paperwork was missing; perhaps the temporary office help had never filed it in the first place.
From what she could tell, the original filing system had been excellent, it was the haphazard way it had been kept recently that was the problem. Chelsea sorted the unfiled paperwork and decided to start going through the physical files, A to Z. Getting everything into its right place would help her learn more about agency operations.
Her spirits rose as she worked.
She was starting to think she could be really good for the agency. It had been a long time since she’d felt that way, partly because of Ron’s constant, insidious little comments. They’d chipped away at her confidence, bit by bit, until nothing had been left. Now, so far away from him, she couldn’t believe she’d put up with it for so long. What was wrong with her? She sighed. Maybe nothing. Perhaps Ron hadn’t realized what he was doing and they’d simply been a really bad match.
The phone rang. She was in the file and copier room behind the reception desk. Dashing out, Chelsea grabbed the receiver.
“Moonlight Ventures Agency.”
“Chelsea? That’s gotta be you.”
It was Ron and she felt an instinctive surge of panic. Here she just been thinking about what he’d said and done and the next thing she knew, his voice was sounding in her ears. Forcing herself to calm down, she reflected that there was nothing weird about it. She’d thought often about him in the few days since they had broken up, so if he called, it was practically a guarantee that he’d hit a moment when she was remembering something about their time together.
“How did you know I was here?” she asked, keeping her voice even.
“One of your neighbors said where you were working.”
Chelsea blinked, recalling that she’d phoned a neighbor in Los Angeles to explain the situation and that she was moving to Seattle for her new job. She should have asked Marta not to tell Ron anything if he came around; she just hadn’t thought he’d bother.
“I had to call—I couldn’t believe you’d get a job so far away from me,” Ron added.
She drew a deep breath. “What I do isn’t your business any longer. I told you we’re through.”
“But you didn’t mean it. You’re always saying things you don’t mean.”
“I meant it. We’re finished.”
“After three years together? I put a lot of time and energy into our relationship. We love each other and—”
“And nothing,” she said as firmly as she could manage. “Find someone else.”
“But—”
Chelsea hit the off button on the phone, partly out of panic. But it also might be the only way to handle Ron—he always had an argument to make, could cajole and wheedle and send her on guilt trips and uncertainty searches. From now on when she answered, she’d check the caller ID to see if it was him.
Dragging in deep, calming breaths, she went back to work and forced herself to open and sort the next file. It helped that she was so far away. Ron might call long distance, but he probably wouldn’t come north to see her in person.
Using logic to deal with her thoughts helped quiet her nerves, but she still couldn’t ignore the stabs of guilt over what had happened…and a little anger as well.
