Page 68 of Crazy In Love (Love & War #2)

“Five days a—” Booker shakes his head. “How would that be possible? You can’t do half of your job remotely.”

“Right.” I lean forward and slide my envelope closer to him. “Sadly, that leads me to this.”

“ This ?”

“My resignation, effective immediately.”

“What?” He snatches up the envelope and rips the seal open.

Tearing my single sheet of paper out, he speed-reads as fast as his eyes can move.

“ Effective as of the date of this letter… resignation from Gable, Gains, and He mingway… appreciate your guidance and…” He swings his eyes back to mine and growls.

“I don’t accept your resignation.” He slaps the paper back to his desk.

“I don’t know what the hell has come over you, Fox, but this ,” he points at me, “this is not you. We have way too much history for me to let you quit when I damn well know, six weeks ago, you were content exactly the way things were.”

“Which leads me to my next confession: I was hoping you wouldn’t accept.

” I close my contract and place my hands over top, then I offer Booker a kind smile and another for Amedeo.

“I would love to learn from you both. I mean that with full sincerity. I don’t want to leave Gable, Gains, and Hemingway.

My loyalty remains with the company that took me from my professional infancy, making it possible for me to flourish and learn.

However,” I bring my focus back to Booker, “I grew way too comfortable in this job. It was easy. It was fun. It was rewarding and fancy, and honestly, it simply made me feel good.”

“So, what’s the problem?”

“I’m still paying student loans for a degree I don’t use. I’ve allowed myself to become complacent, letting the education I worked really freakin’ hard for dissolve in the back of my brain while I fill it with other, less relevant things.”

“We’re giving you a chance to do exactly as you’re asking for,” Amedeo counters. “Forgive me. I’m confused by your hesitation.”

“Rome is my hesitation.” I swallow and drag my eyes back to Booker. “And New York. And London. And literally every other town or city or place that exists where my family doesn’t .”

“Your family?”

“I would’ve begged you for a lobotomy six weeks ago if I said these words, and I promise you, my hands sweat even now. But…” I lift my shoulders in a nervous shrug. “I’m moving to Plainview.”

He barks out a loud, mocking laugh, throwing his head back and slapping the desk.

While he does that, I look at Amedeo and grit my teeth. “Just give him a second. He’ll stop.”

“Plainview?! Fox, you called it the Hillbilly capital of Bumfuck Alabama!”

I wrinkle my nose. “It’s not actually in Alabama.”

“I know it’s not in Alabama!” His laughter cuts away, and his rage takes over. “Did you go on a cocaine bender while you were out there? Have a mental breakdown? I swear, the Fox who left and the Fox who came back are not the same person! ”

“They’re not.” I settle back in my chair and slow my breathing, lest I cry like a tool and ruin every shred of credibility I have with these men. “I’m not that person anymore. And even if that’s freaking you out a little bit, I actually think it’s a good thing.”

“Fox—”

“I healed while I was gone. I hurt. I grew, and I might’ve thrown a tantrum or two.

I was treated badly by some of the locals.

And I was treated well by others. I learned what it’s like to have a family, and worse, what it’s like to sit outside and stare in while they lived their lives.

I’ve spent nearly three decades throwing up walls, preparing my comebacks, and stacking my barbs for whoever broached my defenses.

I was determined to expose them before they exposed me. ”

Heavy black brows pinch above Amedeo’s eyes. “What is it you think you are, Ms. Tatum?”

“A coward, mostly. An island of misfits, but I’m the only one who lives there.

I’m a child of trauma who wants so badly to be doted on, but when I am, I tell myself I don’t deserve it.

That’s why I like my job so much.” I cast my eyes back to Booker.

“It’s easy and it’s fun. But more importantly, it comes with praise.

So much freakin’ praise. And I figure, I deserved that praise.

Because we have the data on staff morale that says what I do matters. ”

“What you do does matter! That’s why we’re offering you oodles of money, dummy.”

“Getting paid to be told I’m amazing.” I fold my arms and bring my pinky fingernail up to my lips. “It’s the easiest, most fulfilling cash I ever made. And I assure you, the idea of letting that go is terrifying .”

“So don’t! If the thought of moving to Rome elicits this kind of reaction, then don’t go. It’s okay to think you wanted something, then change your mind. You don’t have to accept the job.”

“For me to agree with you on that point, I must also acknowledge that it’s okay to think I didn’t want something. But now I do.”

Like a true New Yorkian, he turns his nose up in disgust. “You want Plainview?”

“I want Plainview. I want roosters on the fence and cows in the yard. I want the gossip vines, though I look forward to a certain few old ladies kicking over in the next ten or so years.”

Like a tennis match and a ball flying from one side of the court to the other, Amedeo’s eyes swing to Booker. “Kicking over?”

“You cannot base your happiness—and a whole cross-country move—on the hope that some old biddy will up and die, Fox! That’s not how grown-ups make decisions. But it sure as hell is one way to tempt karma to come down and whoop your ass.”

“It’s not like I’ll poison the old folks or anything.” I roll my eyes and ignore the buzz-buzz-buzz of my phone in my bag. “I just mean, the fact they’re pretty old already makes me feel better.”

“Fox!”

“Offer me a full-time remote position.” I look from one man to the other.

“Either of you. I’m begging you. I don’t want to leave Gable, Gains, and Hemingway, and lord knows, I don’t want to work at Alana’s bookstore for the rest of my life.

So I’m asking you to please, please consider finding me a position that satisfies us all. ”

“You’re asking me to let you go,” Booker groans. “You’ll leave New York.”

“You were happy to send me to Rome!” I gesture toward Amedeo with both hands. “How is this different?”

“It’s different, because this is what you wanted. Rome was your dream, Fox, and I give a shit about you outside of this office. I want you to have everything you want.”

“I want Plainview. And I want my family. I want Chris and that stinky gym that smells like balls and all of those people who hardly even like me. I want the stubbed toes. And I want to continue to work with you.”

Poor Amedeo. The man speaks fluent English, but not everything makes sense. “You want to stub your toes?”

“I’ll fly out once a month, every single month, for the rest of my working life, to any office you want me in. I’ll even fly economy, if you insist.”

Booker scoffs.

“If you want me to be happy, then this is it.” And because he already wrote it into the contracts, I open them again and jump to the last page. “If at any point I change my mind, you’ll bring me back to New York. See? You already provided me an out if the hillbillies get to be too much.”

“You’re still calling them hillbillies!” he growls. “But now you wanna be one of them?”

“I just want a chance to figure out who I am. I know you don’t have to. At no point are you required to tolerate me and this ridiculous conversation, so if you wish to end it, end it.”

“Then I’m ending it,” he quips. “Right now.”

“Fair,” I sigh, closing the contract again and placing my hands over top. “However, I’m moving this week. With or without your blessing.”

“Fox! ”

“I would really, really like your blessing.” I reach across his desk and grab his hands.

“Please, Booker. Don’t make me work at the bookstore.

Don’t let me leave without a steady income and a reason to fly back to civilization once a month.

If you send me away today and I become one of them , you’ll have no one but yourself to blame. ”

He firms his lips. “Emotional manipulation? You’re usually much better at it.”

“I know. But I was up until midnight hosting a Taylor Swift concert for the rats living in my walls. I’m tired.”

“You know Taylor Swift?” Amedeo questions. “Americans know all other Americans?”

“Please, Booker.” I set my elbows on his desk and press my palms together in prayer. “I’ll work really hard. I’ll learn fast and become your highest-grossing lackey yet. I’ll secure accounts you couldn’t even dream of, and I’ll make damn sure the yearly data shows I deserve my praise.”

“Fox—”

“And I won’t ask for my salary increase.”

He scoffs. “I should hope not.”

“I won’t need you to pay for accommodations either. Just agree to keep me on. Give me a year to show you I can do this.”

“What if I give you the year and you fail? Will you come back to New York?”

“No. But I’ll try the emotional manipulation thing again and buy myself another year.” I wiggle my hands. “Let me go home, Booker. Rome isn’t where I’ll be happy. Plainv—” My body rejects the words. My tongue stumbles on each syllable. Oh, God. “Plainview is where I need to be. At least for now.”

His desk phone trills, startling me where I sit and buying us both a moment to sit back.

And though he stares into my eyes, ignoring the phone until it rings out, it starts again and draws his ire.

He points at me, then points down— don’t move!

—then snatching up the headset, he slams it to his ear and grits out, “Yes?”

“If he doesn’t offer you the job you want,” Amedeo leans closer, chuckling under his breath, “I will.”

“Really?”

“Sure. You want a job in marketing, Ms. Tatum, and you’ve convinced me to pay you not to work for me. You’ve a natural talent.”