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“She should be. Do you have a meeting?”
“Yes,” I lied.
“Right this way.” She stood and I followed her down the hallway, feeling the watchful gazes of the staff. I had almost forgotten about the phone call I had made this morning that would change their entire company. They must have heard the news.
“I just wanted to say we are just so excited about your generous contribution to our nonprofit. It truly is amazing. The whole office has been talking about it,” said the girl as we walked.
They definitely all knew.
“I like being able to help. Ms. Heartly made it clear the important work you do here. It’s admirable, and I’m happy to do my part.”
“Well, here we are,” she said, knocking softly on the closed door.
“Come in,” Heart called.
My heart rate picked up a few paces as the door opened and I walked inside. Heart was looking down at her desk, focused on writing something on a post-it. She looked so effortlessly pretty in a pinstriped button-down and a makeup-free face. I suddenly felt very anxious.
“Mr. Jacobs is here for your meeting,” said the girl from the front desk.
Heart’s face snapped up and she saw me standing in the doorway. I suddenly felt very hot. The looks that crossed her face were a dance of panic, confusion, and anger.
“Thank you,” said Heart coolly and dismissively.
The door closed behind me and we were alone.
“What are you doing here?” she asked pointedly, sitting stiffly in her desk chair.
“I had to see you,” I said, taking a step closer. “You disappeared the other night…”
“I had to go.” Her words were clipped as she crossed her arms.
“And then you wouldn’t return my calls or texts.”
“I guess I was busy.”
“Well, did you get the gifts I had sent over?”
“Yes, I got your exorbitant number of packages that were delivered.” She sighed.
“I just wanted to help out…”
“More like you wanted to buy my attention when you weren’t getting it.”
“That’s not true,” I said, even though it partly was.
“I’m not that kind of girl, Daniel. I don’t know how many times I have to tell you that. I can’t be bought with expensive dinners at French restaurants or gifts from Bergdorf’s. Maybe the other women in your life were easily won over with that, but I’m not one of them.”
“I know that. That’s why I like you.”
“But you don’t like me enough to be seen with me in public. Would it hurt your image?” she asked with a sarcastic pouty face.
“Is that what this is about?” I asked, feeling exasperated.
“I saw this morning’s tabloids. You have no problem parading around someone half my size wearing next to nothing.”
“Those pictures were from last year!” My voice rose an octave.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m not who you’re meant to be with. I’m not like those girls. I don’t know what sort of games you’re playing.”