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“Boston,” I said, slamming the door shut, my heart wrenched by the sight of Jamie as she stepped back from the ‘copter in shock. “I’ve got work to do.”
But as we took off, and the clouds draped themselves once again over the sky, I realized I was making a mistake. And it was a mistake I might never get the chance to make up for.
No, I thought to myself, as the shining spires of Boston showed themselves on the horizon.I’m no hero.
Iburiedmyselfinwork when I got back that morning. I began by reviewing the whole project, top-to-bottom. In the few days, while I was away, Steven had mobilized the lab and begun redesigning it. We were going into the manufacturing business right here in Boston, producing diamonds.
It was an enormous technical operation. But I was used to this kind of thing. I’d designed lithium batteries and transistors, working with the top scientific minds of the day to create and store power.
But I never sat down and devised a plan to sell the diamonds.
The days and nights flew by. I researched everything and compiled all the data I could find about diamond sales worldwide. I was energized by the challenge, but also confused. I’d never had to market myself to the public before. And I knew it was going to be a challenge when I walked into the marketing meeting a few days later.
“Eric?” said Karen, my PA, and I looked up. I was thinking of Jamie as my eyes traversed the high-rises of Boston from my boardroom window. Where was she? What was she doing?
“Uh, sorry,” I said and shuffled my papers on the table, pretending that I was engrossed in what was in front of me. There was a look of bewilderment on the faces of my chief executives. Few of them had ever seen me drift off or fail to keep my motivation high in meetings. I felt a little embarrassed and began to talk rapidly, almost stammering at a loss for words.
“Well, obviously we need a special PR operation for this,” I said. “It’s not like we can kid around with ourselves. I want this project to be new, exciting.”
“Social media?” said Karen.
“Definitely,” I said. “We need branding, and we need to reach out to the people who want to purchase these products.”
A few of the executives nodded, relieved that I was paying attention. And then Karen spoke up again.
“What about Jamie Reed?” she said.
I snapped to attention. And suddenly the tedious boardroom, with its gray furniture and long, white table, seemed to have become colorful.
“What about her?” I snapped.
“Well, she’s done great work for Mark Menckel and others. She’s smart. Savvy. The only problem is, that she works freelance. We’d need her full attention to get the best out of her. Aren’t you friends with her dad, Eric?”
I nodded slowly, trying not to show the succession of feelings that were running across my face. Karen was right. Jamie was the perfect choice to lead this kind of operation. She didn’t just know the technical side of the business, but also how to engage people. If there was anyone more capable it was Jamie. She would be the one I would pick to market diamond jewelry. Jamie, who is so glamorous and exciting. Jamie is the same person I’ve had on my mind for the last few days.
“You’re absolutely right, Karen,” I said.
“Plus, the timing is great,” said Martin Andrews, my head of finance. “What with the helicopter story and all.”
“Huh?” I said.
“Didn’t you see it?” said Martin.
“It was all over the news,” Karen conceded. “The two of you in the helicopter together. Heck, it made for a great front-page story.”
I sighed. “I wasn’t aware the newspapers were so interested in our industry.”
“Not sure it’s the industry that caught their eye,” Karen said slyly.
Before I could glower and ask her what she meant, I looked at my watch and noticed I was running late for my next appointment. Whew, I avoided that awkward conversation. I called the meeting to an end. I quickly texted Paul and asked him to pick me up from the office.
Itwasearlyeveningby the time I left, and much cooler outside my office. I watched the city stream by from the window of my car. I got Jamie’s address from our networking database.
I didn’t call her to tell her I was coming. I knew in my heart that Jamie would be angry at me for not calling her once I’d gotten back to the city. The conference was over by now and she was almost certainly home.
She probably got a load of job offers there,I told myself.Maybe she won’t even be interested in what I had to offer.And even if those thoughts made me despondent, they also made me feel a little more relieved. Because then Jamie wouldn’t have to turn me down for the reason, we both knew mattered more than anything else. We were hopelessly attracted to each other and trapped in an impossible situation by the presence of her father in our lives.
It didn’t take long before I was passing through Back Bay and before we stopped at a little brownstone house, in one of its less expensive but more fashionable neighborhoods, I checked the address. This was the place. 72 Brower Terrace. I got out of the car and asked Paul to wait, before trotting up the steps to the elegant front porch of the house.
