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Except Thomas.
“It’s...different at the top,” he said. “Now I can protect you. But once you’re on this level, it’s open water. I won’t be able to shield you anymore.”
For a brief moment, Keaton saw the man who’d sat by him and helped him with his grief. He saw the Thomas who cared about his pain and who’d taken him under his wing. He saw the man who’d come to his wife’s funeral and laid a hand on his shoulder at the exact moment Keaton thought he might crumple to the ground.
“I can take care of myself,” Keaton said, but Thomas didn’t look convinced. “Give me the week. If I can’t come up with another solution, then we’ll speak with the freight company and do it your way.”
“Fine. But remember where your priorities lie.”
The screen went blank as he disconnected the call.
He closed the lid of his laptop. Fucking Thomas. Why did it feel like everything was a test lately? He’d been dangling the named partner thing over his head for a while, always dancing around it to keep Keaton “motivated.” But now that there appeared to be serious talks about a promotion, it was like Thomas wanted to see how far he could push Keaton. How far he could bend him. Was this about loyalty? Did he want to see how much Keaton was willing to sacrifice of himself to make it to the top?
He wouldn’t kibosh the Waterline Press deal, because that would be career suicide, but he wanted to besurethere wasn’t another avenue that might save the owners of the small company from being totally decimated.
His client could afford to pay that fifty grand to smooth the way. And even if Thomas had to eat the cost in his budget, they could pad their fees out in other ways to make it back. There was no reason to bury the little guy.
The longer he did this work, the harder it felt to stay on the right side of the ethical line and the more pressure he felt to become like Thomas. He sat on the bed, staring out of the window.
“You really want to be a named partner one day?” he said, looking down at his wife. Ellery lay on the bed, her golden hair fanned out behind her, eyes twinkling.
“Of course I do.” She grinned. “Who aims for second place?”
He laughed at her unabashed ambition. “Not my wife, Mrs. Win At All Costs.”
“Don’t you forget it.” She looped her arm around his neck and brushed her lips against his. “Do you know how many people crash and burn on Wall Street? Who can’t hack the pressure? I want to be one of the select few who climbs to the top.”
“I know you’ll get there.” There wasn’t a doubt in his mind.
Ellery had a determination that was unshakable. It was one of the things he loved most about her—that and some of the things she could do with her mouth. Good lord.
“We’llget there,” she corrected. “You and me. Race you to the top.”
The memory swam in front of his eyes for a moment, morphing and changing. Growing darker.
“Promise me you’ll get to the top.” Her hand was so weak she couldn’t even squeeze him anymore. “For us. For our dreams.”
The machines next to the hospital bed beeped softly and he looked away, unable to see through the hot, prickling tears in his eyes. He could feel his insides petrifying—hardening and crusting over, so brittle it felt like if anyone else tried to touch him he’d turn to dust.
Maybe that would be better. Then he could blow away on a breeze.
“Promise me, Keaton.” Her voice was shaky, but there was no weakness to it. Even in her last breaths, Ellery was fighting for more.
“I promise.” He turned back to her, steeling himself. He had to be strong for her. Had to keep going for her. Had to win for her. “I’ll get to the top for us.”
By the time Keaton entered the building where they’d conducted the first round of competition that morning, the memories were once again locked up tight.
Was it this latest acquisition that had his head swirling with memories? Maybe it was because Thomas was dangling the very thing Ellery wanted right in front of him. Not to mention that he was starting to face the question of “what comes next” after being made a named partner—a question that he had no idea how to answer.
Or maybe it was being here—away from the city—with the only woman he couldn’t seem to hold at arm’s length.
Molly whined at his feet.“Row rowwwow.”
“Not you,” he muttered. “I can definitely hold you at arm’s length.”
For the second event of the day, the contestants were once again brought through the activity a group at a time, to save all the animals being cooped up together. Not that Molly seemed to mind. She wasn’t one of those dogs that had an issue with other animals because Leah put Molly into a doggy day care for one day every week and took her to the local dog park whenever she was able to manage it. So Molly had been well socialized.
He spotted August chatting with a woman who had a smaller dog—one of those little rat ones with the big ears—and he waved.
