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Finally, he opens his mouth and speaks. “I want you to come work for me.”
Okay. Not what I was expecting.
Not at all.
For a second, I feel like I must be hallucinating because there is no way Paxton Ramsey just offered me a job.
My mouth opens and shuts like a fish on its last breath, gasping for air.
“What?” I blurt out before I can think better of it.
“A job, princess. I want to offer you a job.”
In my life, I’ve never been hit with a sledgehammer, but I imagine this is what it must feel like. “Is this some ploy to get back at my dad?”
“Wow. Do you really think that low of me?” I lift my brow at his question. “Well, I guess it would seem fair that you think of me like that, seeing as how I treated you. But no, that’s not the reason.”
“Then why? Why would you want a washed-up agent on staff? One that, I might remind you, has no clients and zero prospects.”
“Nice selling point. Did you add that to your résumé yet?”
“Paxton.” That gets his attention. His mouth shuts, and his lips thin. “Why?”
“Because despite everything, despite all you would lose, you still put her first. And that’s the kind of agent I want working for me.”
He takes a step closer to me, and on a protective instinct, I take a step back. Paxton would never physically hurt me, but my heart can’t take much more. Walking away from him was the hardest thing I have ever done, and for the same reason, I’d do it all over again.
“In the month that we were on the island, I watched what you did for Teagan, how you cared for and nurtured her, and I want someone who can do the same. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and things need to change.”
“How so?”
“I don’t think enough emphasis is put on our clients’ mental well-being and health, and I’d like you to come aboard and oversee that it is.”
I shake my head in confusion. “I’m not following.”
“Not only do I want you to bring on clients as an agent, but I also want you to go about setting up a division that will foster a good environment for our clients, whether that means bringing on staff to help with drugs, alcohol, and depression, or whatever issues that arise.”
My heart hammers wildly in my chest. What Paxton is suggesting is huge. That’s what this industry lacks, and I know that if he wants to make it happen, it will change everything.
If I’m honest with myself, spearheading a project like this is everything I could ever dream of. I’m about to say yes, but then another thought hits me. Where does that leave us?
If there is no future for us, can I come on board knowing he might have a future with someone else?
My jaw wobbles, but I quickly push back the feeling threatening to explode. Steeling my spine, I erect the walls I have learned to rely on when things get tough.
Paxton stares at me for a second, most likely trying to read me. “Please, Mal. Come work for me.”
“Why would you think I’d want that?”
“Because I know you, Mallory,” he says, his eyes locking with mine. “You’re one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met, and that’s exactly what my company needs right now.”
I shake my head. As much as I want this and as much as this is a dream come true, can I take this job? Before I can stop myself, my damn pride rears its ugly head. “I don’t need a handout, Paxton. I can take care of myself.”
“It’s not a handout,” he insists. “I need someone like you to spearhead the program. It’s all about ensuring our talent is cared for and has the services they need to be happy. And I think you’re perfect for the job. No one would be better than you at this. You’ve proved it time and time again.”
I consider his words, and a flicker of something stirs inside me—a desire to help. But I can’t shake the feeling that I need to know where we stand first, and if I find out this is only a job and there is no future for us, can I fortify my walls high enough not to get hurt?
“I don’t know, Paxton. I need time to think about it. I’m just—”
“What?”
“I’m not sure. After everything, I’m just not sure if I can work for you,” I admit, unshed tears threatening to fall from my eyes.
He doesn’t miss them, though. He stares deep into my eyes, and like always, Paxton Ramsey sees me. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
“It’s just . . .” My heart hammers in my chest as he steps closer, and now we are only a hair’s breadth apart. “I mean, I know it was just a fling between us, but I don’t know if I can work with you and see you with—”
