Page 125 of Boss of Me

“No.” My voice cuts through her words. “We’re not getting back together. It’s over.”

Her head snaps back as if I hit her, and for a moment her eyes seem to water. “We’re over? Just like that?”

“Yes.”

She motions around the room. “I can’t believe you’d be cruel enough to end our relationship at the same place where we met!”

“I’m not trying to be cruel, but you need to accept my decision,” I tell her. “Harassing Marlowe won’t change my mind. It’ll only piss me off, and believe me, you don’t want that.”

An ugly, vindictive smile twists her lips. “You’re making a big mistake. You and Marlowe have nothing in common. Your friends will never accept her, and neither will your mother. We both think Marlowe is a gold-digging whore, and I’m going to make sure?—”

I grab the back of her head and bring my mouth to her ear. “For the last fucking time, I don’t want you talking to Marlowe. Don’t even go near her. If you ever find yourself in the same vicinity as her, stop what you’re doing and leave the premises. Do I make myself clear?”

I feel her swallow. Hard.

“Contact her again and we’re going to have a serious fucking problem. Nod to let me know you understand.”

She bobs her head up and down.

I pull back to level a glare at her. “I’ve always been a gentleman with you. Don’t make me regret it.”

Her face tightens and reddens.

I release her, pivot on my heel and head for the door.

“It wasn’t supposed to end this way!” she cries out petulantly. “When I broke up with you, it was only supposed to betemporary. You were supposed to come to your senses and come crawling back to me. You weren’t supposed to meet someone else!”

I turn slowly and shake my head at her. “Come now, sweetheart. When have you ever known me to crawl any damn where?”

Her face crumples and a tear slips from her eye.

“Goodbye, Laurene. I truly wish you all the best.” I turn and start walking away.

“Do you love her?”

Her words stop me cold.

“You never told me you loved me. Even when you proposed, the word ‘love’ never left your mouth. I told myself you loved me in your own way, but now I’m not so sure.” Her tone is bitterly accusing. “So again I ask, Gunner. Do you love her?”

My chest constricts like a vise around my lungs.

With a calm I don’t feel, I button my suit jacket and smooth back my hair, then walk out the door without responding.

the question is still burning throughmy brain the next morning as I sit behind my desk, fingers steepled in front of my face, half listening while my assistant rattles off a list of action items requiring my attention.

“. . . need to work on your keynote speech for the tech conference in Munich. I’ll email your travel itinerary once it’s finalized. I made a few tweaks to your welcome message for the incoming security trainees. The film crew will be here at eleven to record your video. The suit you’re wearing is perfect, but I think you should go with a different tie. Something softer, lessaustere. I picked out three options for your consideration. After the taping, you have a lunch meeting with . . .”

As Veronica’s voice drones on, I tune her out. On the corner of my desk is one of the pictures I took of Marlowe this weekend. She’s standing on the cliff with her face lifted to the sun, her long dark hair blowing in the wind. She’d looked so damn beautiful my heart ached.

I couldn’t wait to frame the picture and display it on my desk.

Now it mocks me like a cruel joke.

“. . .Businessweekcalled to confirm your photo shoot next week. They want you to wear a Yu-Gi-Oh costume for the cover.”

“Fine, whatever.” A beat passes before Veronica’s words sink in. “Wait, what?”

She laughs. “I knew you weren’t paying attention.”