Eyes Unveiled Page 13

  “In a hurry to make a difference. You’re right. I don’t get it.” He turned and stopped. “It’s one thing to invest in a good cause. It’s another thing to lose yourself in the process.” Without looking back, he strode away.

  My fist dropped to the top of the chair. Yeah, making a difference. At what cost?

  Back at my apartment, I hustled up the stairs, taking two at a time. Thank goodness I thought to wash my hair and iron my suit last night.

  Riley rose from the couch the second the door opened, cup of chai in his hand.

  “Sorry,” I said before he could voice his worry. “My phone was on vibrate. If A. J. hadn’t woken me, I’d still be asleep.” I dropped my bag by the table, rotated my neck from side to side.

  Riley’s gaze sailed over the rumpled outfit I still had on from yesterday. His anxious eyes constricted above his tight jaw.

  No telling what I must’ve looked like. “Give me five minutes to clean up.”

  He squeezed the cup. “Ow.” Steaming tea dripped down his hand.

  I grabbed a napkin from the table.

  “I got it.” He blew past me into the kitchen. His shoulder clipped mine with the same brusque clip in his tone.

  Now I knew how A. J. must’ve felt when I snapped at him. Couldn’t this day be over already?

  I got ready in a whirlwind. Teeth brushed, hair swept up in a clip, I sank into Riley’s passenger seat. I flipped open the mirror on the visor and studied my reflection from all angles to check for any more creases left from my choice of pillow.

  “Checking for confidence?” Riley asked from the driver’s seat.

  “Ha. No, making sure I don’t have any marks left from last night. I’d rather not have any reason to be embarrassed today.”

  Riley shifted into the wrong gear, the engine squawking. The sudden burst of acceleration jerked my head into the headrest. Good thing I wasn’t putting on mascara. Riley wrenched the gearshift into third.

  “You all right?”

  “Fine.” He jabbed the radio on.

  Apparently, “fine” meant no talking.

  Twenty minutes later, Riley’s Civic idled in front of Xander’s towering building.

  My nerves vibrated with the tired engine’s rumble. I swallowed. Man up, Em. If I could handle being only friends with Riley, then surely I could handle delivering a proposal to a few bigwigs. A noisy exhale released my seatbelt from my clenched fingers.

  “So, you’ll be back at two, right?”

  He nodded without turning in my direction.

  “You sure you’re okay? You’ve hardly said two words the whole ride.”

  A labored inhale rose in his chest. “Sorry. A little distracted, that’s all.”

  “I know the feeling. What if I blank in the middle of my presentation?”

  He faced me then. A look of turmoil collided into a weak smile he struggled to keep in place. “Em, you’ve been prepping for weeks. The proposal is topnotch. The board would be crazy to decline.” He lifted my briefcase from the floor and rested the strap on my shoulder. “You got this.”

  With borrowed confidence maybe. “Thanks. I’ll see you this afternoon?”

  He nodded again. Something strained still plagued his expression. “Ready to celebrate.”

  I climbed out of the car and hurried into the building. “You got this,” I whispered.

  The janitor peeked up from his bucket as I crossed the foyer.

  “Hi, John.” I waved, but he kept pushing his mop without turning his head or saying hello. Weird.

  Alicia from accounting hovered along the opposite side of the elevator from me. Had I forgotten to put something on in my rush to get ready? I did a quick once-over in the mirrored walls. Everything looked to be in place. I nonchalantly whiffed my clothes. Since when was Downey fabric softener offensive? The doors opened. “Have a nice . . .”

  Alicia maneuvered around me and kept trekking to her office without a word.

  “. . . day. Yeah, nice chatting with you too.”

  A strange current of energy pulsed across the floor as if someone had rubbed a giant balloon over the felt cubicles. Okay, I was definitely missing something here.

  On my way to my desk, Renee caught my arm and steered me in the opposite direction. “Why don’t you make a Starbucks run?”

  “Renee, what’s going on? I feel like I’m in one of those awkward dreams when you walk into the school cafeteria and realize you forgot to get dressed.”

  And then I heard it. Yelling from Jack’s office. Behind the glass walls, Mr. Johnston shook a folder in the air, ranting.

  Renee raised her shoulders. “I tried to warn you, sweetie.”

  Warn me? He couldn’t have been upset about my project idea. I hadn’t even presented it yet. I started down the hall.

  Renee followed. “Emma, wait.”

  Another holler from inside the closed office almost knocked me backward. Like I wasn’t supposed to be nervous pitching to this guy. Right. Maybe I needed that Starbucks run after all. Tea! Shoot, I left the tea Riley brought me in his car. Great. This day just couldn’t get any better.

  I fought to tune out Mr. Johnston’s muffled ranting from down the hall while I laid out copies of my proposal on the boardroom tabletop. Renee led five gray-haired gentlemen to their seats around the oval table. Jack followed a minute later. He slipped on his suit jacket, looking like he’d slept about as well as I had.

  “Everything all right?” I whispered from the corner of my mouth.

  “Stock’s down,” he whispered back. “Always sets him off.”

  Perfect.

  “Should we postpone?”

  Mr. Johnston barreled into the room past Renee. Jack turned. “Too late now.” He downed an entire bottle of water and resurrected his usual cocky stature before facing the group. “Gentlemen, thank you for allowing us to add a quick presentation to the beginning of your meeting. Before you dive into your regular reports, our newest intern and I have an exciting business venture to propose.” He fanned his hand toward me. “Emma.”

  I cued the PowerPoint to the opening slide and tried to feed off Jack’s self-confidence.

  “An afterschool program?” Mr. Johnston scoffed before I got a word in. “Is this a joke?”

  Blank faces from around the table pummeled into me. I wiped my clammy hands on my skirt, forced down a dry swallow. “No, sir. I’m proposing a business plan to invest some of our resources into a secondary market. We have an entire inventory of unused computer equipment that we could refurbish into a new venue of operations.”

  Mr. Johnston shooed Renee away from his water glass. “Jack, tell me you haven’t pandered to this idea. You’re supposed to be making me money, not proffering it out to the poor.”

  Jack lifted off the edge of a side table and cleared his throat. “There are tax benefits. And an investment in the community could add a philanthropic brand to the company’s reputation. Might even help our stock.”

  “The community?” Mr. Johnston flexed out his collar. “I’m running a business, not running for public office, for god’s sake.”

  He motioned for Renee to hand out the performance reports, clearly putting an end to our presentation before it even began. “You want to know the reason Xander is ranked in the top six companies in Oregon? Because we know what our clients want, and we’re damn good at delivering the goods.”

  He rose from the table and strode straight into Jack’s face. “I’m supposed to be providing the board with budget forecasts and profitability measurements,” he said in a hushed reprimand. “Not” —he flicked the paper in his hand— “some socio-economic nonsense. The board doesn’t have time for this. And neither do I.”

  “It was just a proposal,” Jack said calmly.

  At least one of them was calm. Mr. Johnston stared him down. “Can the proposal, Jack, or can your job.”

  Mr. Johnston pinned a single glare on me that carved right through my gut. No words necessary. Straightening his tie, he paced
back to his seat.

  The slide advancer slipped out of my hand to the floor. The room slanted. I gripped the table. I couldn’t move, couldn’t find my voice. “It was my idea,” I said faintly.

  Renee nudged me toward the door. “Let it go, Emma.”

  “I can’t let Jack take the rap for me.” I unwound my arm from hers, regaining feeling to my limbs. “Jack was doing me a favor. Please don’t take your disappointment out on him.”

  The same scathing glare from a moment ago coursed over my profile with the stark assessment of one of his profitability tools.

  I faced the entire table. “I’m terribly sorry for wasting your time.” With as dignified a smile as I could forge, I took my leave. Tears brimmed the second I crossed the threshold.

  Renee stroked my back. “Emma, honey—”

  My hand raised before my voice. “Don’t.” I couldn’t bear to hear another I tried to warn you comment. The lights, the ceiling, the walls—everything compressed until I felt as small and useless as the pulled-out staples collected on the carpet at my feet.

  A murmur of conversations ignited across the cubicles.

  Jack swept through the door. “Back to work, everyone.”

  Conversations dropped behinds sounds of wheels rolling over chair mats and fingernails drumming over keyboards. The anthem of routine resumed.

  All except for my breathing.

  I fled to the bathroom and gripped the sink’s porcelain edge. Staring in the mirror, I dabbed cool water over my face. Had I really been naïve enough to think I could’ve pulled this off? I shook my head at my pathetic reflection.

  The squeak of creaky hinges followed a rap on the door. “Find another hiding spot?”

  I jumped back from the sink. “Jack, this is the ladies’ room.”

  He glanced at the emptied stalls. “Doubt anyone’s leaving their desks anytime soon. Little privacy’s a good thing, remember?”

  Did that include crawling into a cave somewhere in a remote mountainside?

  He crossed the tiles. “Listen, I can take an early lunch break. Why don’t you let me take you home?”

  My arms fell to my sides. Home? Don’t tell me I’d lost my internship over this. How would I explain it to Mr. Oakly? To Mom? My stomach twisted, wrenched me forward. “So, that’s it? I don’t get a second chance?”

  “It’s business, Emma. That’s the way it goes.”

  How could I forget? My palms found the cool sink again.

  He set his hand over mine. “Don’t take it personally. It was a good try.”

  “Is that a nice name for failure?”

  “At least he didn’t fire you.”

  Thank god. Though, if I bombed my performance review, it really didn’t matter.

  “C’mon.” He nodded behind him. “Let’s get out of here. You can start fresh tomorrow.”

  There was only one person I wanted to be with right now, and it certainly wasn’t Jack Peters. “Thanks, but I have a ride.” I drew my cell from my pocket.

  He motioned for me to make the call.

  If Riley kept the radio turned up anywhere near how loud he had it on the drive in, he probably wouldn’t hear the ring, but I had to try. Please pick up. Please pick up. “Riley Preston, leave a message.”

  I pivoted toward the opposite wall and lowered my voice. “Hey, it’s me. Turns out I need a ride home sooner than two. If you haven’t made it to campus yet, would you mind turning around to come get me? Mr. Johnston shot down the proposal . . .” My voice caught. I pushed End before the quiver in my lip gave me away.

  Jack’s hands touched the tops of my shoulders from behind. I eased out from under them.

  “Give your ride a few minutes. Then I say we go. Trust me, you’re not going to want to wait around here.”

  Valid point.

  People dropped to their chairs or dipped into side rooms when the bathroom door opened. Like it wasn’t obvious they’d been listening. Good thing none of us were theater majors.

  At my desk, I stuffed my notes inside my briefcase’s front pouch. What was I trying to do anyway? Prove my worth? Was it ever about making a difference? I wilted into my chair. The image of A. J.’s hurt expression from this morning seared right into the canyon left in my gut from Mr. Johnston’s glare.

  I had to get out of there. I checked my cell. No missed calls. A tap on my cubicle stopped me in the middle of a text to let Riley know not to worry about coming back.

  “Ready?” Jack asked.

  “Yeah.” I’d finish the text in the car.

  A series of whispers traveled down the string of cubicles beside us like some kindergarten game of telephone.

  A burst of natural light shined from the windows in the front of the building. I hadn’t even felt the elevator leave the third floor.

  In the parking lot, Jack toyed with his keys. “Are you as tight as I am?”

  I looked up from the pavement. “Excuse me?”

  “Your muscles. They aren’t tight after all that work and stress over this proposal?”

  I shook my head. The condition of my muscles was none of his business.

  “Man, you’re steel, aren’t you? Ballsy too. All for the off chance the boss might actually go for it. That drive will take you places.”

  The off chance? My feet stopped. “You knew he was going to react like that?”

  He turned, hands splayed. “I knew it’d be a stretch, but that’s part of the thrill.”

  How could there be no air outside either?

  He scratched his cheek with his key. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  My nails dug into my palms. “I’ve spent weeks working on this. Stayed late. Poured myself into research. Fell asleep at the library. Lost time with my friends. And now you’re telling me you knew this whole time it’d be a waste? You let me do all this for nothing?”

  “Not for nothing. Business is a gamble. If he’d bought into it, we both could’ve scored some serious points. That’s the risk you take.” He edged closer. The side of his finger traversed down my cheekbone. “Plus we got to spend time together, didn’t we?”

  You’ve got to be freaking kidding me. I backed up.

  He looked around the lot. “Listen, we’re both drained. Why don’t you come over to my place for a while? Unwind.” He slinked up beside me and squeezed my shoulders. “Let me work out that tension.”

  I pulled away, but he caught the side of my skirt. The fabric cinched at my waist. Ankle twisting, I dropped my briefcase and grabbed the nearest pole. My bracelet scraped halfway down the light post’s side before I regained my balance.

  Jack whipped me around. With one hand on my hip, the other slithered down my back until calloused fingertips pressed into the top of my leg, a cold chill following. “After all that work I put in to helping you, you owe me.”

  Owe him? “I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression, but we’re not—”

  He yanked me closer. My arms locked to keep the space from collapsing between us. The buttons on his shirt bore into my palms the harder I braced them, but my arms might as well have been twigs. He leaned in close enough for his mouthwash-scented breath to scorch the skin on my neck.

  I gritted my teeth and turned away. “Let go of me, Jack.”

  He transferred his grip from my waist to my chin and jerked it toward his. “See, this is your problem. You think you’re something special. Out to change the world. Acting like you’re too good for me. Why don’t you just drop the good girl routine and live a little already.”

  Fists clenched, I slammed my heel into his foot and broke free from his grasp.

  The venom in his four-letter response fueled my pace to a sprint. My slingbacks sawed deep into my ankles, but the pain propelled me forward.

  “Where you gonna go?” he yelled with smug satisfaction.

  I paused mid-stride, stumbling less over the rise of pavement and more over the truth in his words. Not only didn’t I have another ride, I didn’t have another internship. Somew
here in the shadows, a garbage can lid clanked onto its metal shell. The sound rattled across the street and straight up my shoulders.

  Jack closed in again and backed me against a wall. “You need me. Admit it.”

  “Stop. Let me go.”

  A cup crashed to the ground and splattered liquid onto the wall. Someone ripped Jack off me and pounded him against the bricks, arm against his throat. “She said, let go.”

  Riley’d come back for me. Relief collided with the panic coiling inside me.

  “Who are you, her bodyguard?” Jack seethed.

  The tendons in Riley’s neck twitched. “I’m the guy who’s going to shatter your trachea if you think of touching her again.”

  Jack tried to break free, but Riley slammed him into the wall and caught his chin with his elbow. Jack’s face turned a shade darker than his red tie. “Push me again, and you’ll regret it.”

  “I doubt that.”

  I grabbed Riley’s trembling shoulder. “He’s not worth it.”

  Chest heaving, Riley slackened his hold. Jack pushed him out of the way and reached for his neck through raspy breaths. Riley guarded me with his body and glared at him. “Keep walking.”

  Jack wrenched his disheveled suit jacket into place and raked his fingers through his hair. A sharp glower crawled into a dark smirk. “You’re done, Emma. Your internship. Any chance for a position in this company.” He opened his hand like a puff of smoke. “Gone.”

  He scoffed at Riley. “You can thank your hoodlum boyfriend for that.” He spit on the ground, wiped his chin. “She’s all yours. Good luck getting her to put out.”

  Riley lunged, but I caught his hand, kept him close. Jack disappeared around the corner, and I crumbed into Riley’s arms under the weight of a day I wanted to erase. The hurt on A. J.’s face, the whispered murmurs in the office, Mr. Johnston’s deep-cutting stares, Jack’s slimy hands. It all drained onto the front of Riley’s coat with tears of fear and regret.

  I clutched the backs of his shoulders. He held me tighter. No words. Just protection. Safety. In the warmth of his arms, it was easy to believe the world wasn’t as cold as it really was.

  Time stilled until he lifted me into his car. He left the radio on during the ride home. Probably for distraction. The level of adrenaline still steaming off him could’ve fueled the engine.