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“Good.”
“Goodnight, Jameson.”
“Sleep well,” he says, and then he’s gone, and I’m left with an ache I know I’m going to have to take care of before I can think about sleep.
I’m also left with a whole lot of something else my heart knows it shouldn’t be feeling.
Goddam that man.
19
Adeline
My trip to London is a success. Thank fuck, because not much else this week feels like a success. And while I’m usually good at not letting things get to me, this is getting to me.
Analysts downgraded my company to ‘hold’ from ‘buy’ on Wednesday. Jameson assured me that won’t last. Douglas did too. It didn’t escape me that I listened to Jameson maybe a little more than my CFO.
Kimberly and I shortlisted a few sites in London for our flagship store there. We also identified other sites in the UK to consider for stores outside of London. It was a hectic trip, not just because we had a lot of sites to tour, but also because we spent a lot of time putting out work fires.
I have no idea why the fake stories about me have amped up this week, but it feels like someone has it in for me. And that’s not a thought I’ve ever had. I’m used to social media and the waves that the good and bad come in, but this is next level. There’s no good to be found and I can’t help but wonder if someone is targeting me.
My team is stressed. They’re not saying that to me, but I can hear it every time we talk. I’ve had to double down on remaining calm and strong in the face of everything. They need that from me. Hell, I need that from me. But by the time I board Jameson’s jet to fly back to New York on Friday, I’m beginning to crumble.
“Call me on your way home,” he says as I buckle myself in for the flight.
I’m tired, so I don’t have the energy to keep my thoughts to myself. “Surely your pilot will check in with you. Or your security guys. Or Max. Why do you need me to update you on my whereabouts?”
“Adeline,” he says in that bossy voice of his that makes me think of the last time he used it on me.Last night. I finally let my hair down for him last night. “Call me.”
“Fine,” I mutter. “I have to go.” I watch as the plane door is armed.
We end the call and I check my emails one last time before putting my phone away. I then pull out my laptop and go over reports Douglas has sent through, as well as reports from my other executives.
The flight is around seven hours but feels like seventy.
We arrive in New York just after 1:00 p.m. and I call Jameson once Max has me on the way to my office.
“You’re going to the office?” he asks.
“You know I’m going to the office.” Someone would have told him already.
“You need sleep.”
I sigh. “I know, but I also need to get through a lot of work before I can even think about sleep.”
“Have you heard from Vanessa?”
There’s something about the way Jameson remembers the things I tell him. The things that are important to me. He may suck at remembering to share information about social engagements he’s added to his calendar, but he’s good at remembering the little things that are big to me.
“She called me this morning. She’s taking another week off. It’s Christmas, after all, and I think her mom needs her.”
A text comes through, and I check it.
Reese: Darling, are you home now?
I smile. “Your mom just texted.”
“I hope you’re prepared for tomorrow. I’ve warned her you’ll likely be unavailable for ice-skating this weekend, but you should expect her to drop by for a quick visit. She’s worried about you.”
