ONE

 

 

PRESENT DAY

 

Seven years Rylee Hampton had worked for Spotlight Solutions. Seven years. Damn, that sounded like a lot. More than a lifetime for some people. A creative consultant in the marketing department, part of a large team, she spent most of her time sketching other people’s ideas.

At the end of the day, everyone was ready to go home, her included. They’d been ready until, less than an hour ago, an unexpected email hit her department’s inbox, scuppering any chance of getting out on time. The message summoned an array of employees to the biggest conference space on the first floor. Usually reserved for product launches, corporate events, or visiting speakers, it rarely got aired out. If the three hundred or so other people in the room were an accurate indication, other departments had got the same message at the last minute as well.

What was the impromptu meeting about? God knew. But she wasn’t worried. The corporation’s competent infrastructure had undergone a couple of facelifts through the years. So far, she’d survived the layoffs. Loyalty bought her consideration, or so she liked to think. Rumors persisted about the direction of the company, more so recently, but she’d switched off to them a long time ago. Without a reliable link to anyone close to the top, it was impossible to figure out what was truth and what was fiction. Theories changed and became more embellished every week. The tide always rose. In time, it would fall again. Riding the Spotlight rapids was part of everyday life.

Others weren’t so apathetic. Her marketing colleagues’ mumbles and the rumble of surrounding conversation conveyed confusion and intrigue. The room was alive with questions and speculation. When was the last time she’d been in that room? The Christmas party? Maybe the mock expo. Damn, she wanted to go home, but there they were, waiting for the CEO to show up for some unknown reason.

There had to be some big announcement. Had to be. That could be the only explanation for bringing so many people together and keeping it hush-hush until the eleventh hour. Couldn’t be that important if they were leaving everyone swinging in the wind. The raucous conversation continued as people waited for something to happen on the dais at the head of the room.

People loved to gossip, but there was a thread of fear in the excited tone swirling around her. In the current economic climate, everyone wanted to hold on to their jobs. Big changes could mean big cuts. Redundancies, budgets, departments were already stretched thin.

Nichelle leaned in at her side to whisper, “Here comes Ted.”

Their CEO. The sooner he got started, the closer she’d be to home.

Of her marketing colleagues, Nichelle was the closest thing she had to a friend in the department. Though, in truth, her life outside of work was more important than her job. A social life, being “in” with her colleagues, was unimportant, so she wasn’t particularly close to any of them.

Polite and civil, she didn’t have deep relationships at Spotlight. She kept her head down, did her job, and went home to the life that she loved.

From behind the dais, Ted ascended the stairs to the prominent spot at the central podium. Other members of the board shuffled onto the stage behind him.

“Everyone!” Ted called. “Everyone settle down!”

Always jovial with a smile on his face, Ted was a good boss, though not the smartest of businessmen. Word among employees implied he was understanding and generous. He didn’t have the cutthroat spirit needed to close the deals that would ensure the corporation’s, thus the employees’, futures. Which was better? A superior who listened in the short term or one focused on the bigger picture?

She’d only met the man once, at a function in that very room. They’d spoken for a second. He wouldn’t remember her, but she’d got a good sense from him, a good energy.

Ted tapped the microphone as the room settled down and the board seated themselves.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming today,” Ted said, setting his hands on the podium. “I know this is spur-of-the-moment; you have jobs you want to get back to or homes to get to. It’s been a long day, so I’ll make this brief. I’m sure many of you have heard the rumors about Spotlight Solutions and our financial troubles.”

Redundancies.

Budget cuts.

The words rattled in her head.

So much for not being worried.

Tension gripped the room. It clenched her guts too. If this news related to downsizing, she could be in big trouble. Her four-bedroom apartment was already more than she should be able to afford.

“Oh God,” Nichelle said and took her hand, eyes locked on the stage.

“Please nobody panic,” Ted said and widened his grin. “We’ve been in secret negotiations for some time now and finally the day has come to say we have been rescued.” The room relaxed somewhat, but still held its breath. “Spotlight Solutions has been purchased. I know it’s unexpected, but the buyout secures everyone’s jobs and our future projects.” The room applauded. Ted held up his hands. “Please, everyone, save your applause for our savior, Mr. Jamison Dawes!”

Uh, what did he just say?

People kept applauding when a new person jogged up the stairs at the back of the stage. The man unknown to the room held up his hands to silence the crowd, presumably to introduce himself.

Oh, fuck. Jamison Dawes wasn’t unknown to her. They needed no introduction. Her mouth dried as it fell open. What the hell was he doing there? What did he think he was doing?

The applause died down.

JD went to the podium to shake Ted’s hand. All very posed and perfect, like politicians accepting the nomination for something. Oh, steam should be coming out of her ears. Despite being such a prominent feature of her life, it had been a while since they’d laid eyes on each other. The last place she’d expected to see him was at her workplace.

Ted backed away to take a seat with the other board members. And she couldn’t snap out of it.

Wearing that dashing smile, JD settled the room. Been a long time since she’d seen that smile too. That damn smile that tipped the first domino; they’d been falling ever since. Crashing into each other, one after another, with an inevitability she’d almost come to rely on.

He charmed every person in the place. “Thank you. Thank you, everyone.”

Known as a shrewd businessman, personable and generous, JD was a good man, and extremely successful in his field. Good at lots of things, he was a philanthropist, a mentor, and made headlines gobbling up corporations around not only the country but the world.

Whatever he was saying, she heard none of it over the ringing in her ears. He could’ve recited War and Peace and she still wouldn’t have had time to snap out of her daze.

A rushing of air overtook the ringing. Oh, a storm was coming. Seeing him up there, in front of her colleagues, her colleagues, talking, commanding attention, it was too much to take in.

Surreal was a better word. Too surreal for her to absorb.

The father of her children, that was his category in her life. A category that had nothing to do with her career. Their sparse direct contact happened through phone conversations and emails. Most communication was done by way of his mother, the conduit for his relationship with their twins. Formal visitation was satisfied by Marjorie Dawes and JD just showed up at his mom’s to see the kids when he could.

Dumbfounded, she couldn’t place him there, in her life, in her workplace. Spotlight had been hers, and only hers, and now he was there.

Why?

Shit, sitting only half a dozen rows from the front of the room had been a mistake, though not one she could’ve planned for. JD finished his speech and stepped back to accept the adoring applause. Waving, he scanned the space. Damnit. Damnit. His gaze went right past her. Thank God. Relief. A reprieve. He’d missed her.

But she’d breathed out too soon.

His attention stopped and returned to seek out… In a sea of faces, shouldn’t she be invisible? What was she worrying about? He wouldn’t—

Nope, he fixated right on her. Embarrassing that he seemed to be trying to place her, like he couldn’t quite figure out her identity. The longer it took, the smaller she felt.

It probably only took a few seconds and she shouldn’t be offended. Given it wasn’t a familiar environment, and they hadn’t seen each other for so long, it was no big deal. Right? Shouldn’t she forgive him for his second of hesitation? Definitely not her finest moment.

Eventually, he caught on and tilted his head like he was asking why she was there. So sorry for existing. Owner of the damn world, he didn’t have to be so cocky. She was where she was supposed to be; he was the one encroaching on her turf. And what the hell could she do about it? Bupkis.

The father of her children had bought the company she worked for and she’d been oblivious to the fact that it was happening. This was going to take some adjustment… and she’d have to call her lawyer before she spoke to anyone about it. Her lips were sealed. Officially.

Ted approached JD’s other side and put an arm around him. The men shook hands again. Their current CEO said another few words. Ted thanked the room for their time and promised further information in due course, whatever that meant. Everyone was dismissed like her world hadn’t just rocked on its axis.

Time to skate. When the first people stood, and the conversation level rose again, she leaped to her feet. No hanging around for her.

“I have to go,” she said, shuffling past Nichelle.

The other marketing employees happily gossiped, speculating on the direction of the company now that they’d been bought by this savvy hotshot.

Nichelle bent down to grab her own purse. “Wait, Rylee, I’ll walk out with you. Wait for me.”

At the end of the row, she didn’t even care that her hasty pushing pissed others off. Nichelle tried to follow, further irritating their loitering colleagues. Winning friends wasn’t on her priority list. If they wanted to be pissed off, they could be pissed off, let them crank up their blood pressures.

“It’s okay, Nichelle. I really have to go. I’m already late,” she said. “See you tomorrow.”

Hurrying out before the masses corked the bottleneck at the doors, she needed out of there in case JD thought to corner her. As far as she was concerned, he could keep his distance forever.

Their rhythm worked for everyone, except him, apparently. Why did he screw with the status quo? The years hadn’t dampened his arrogance that was for sure. It might have been attractive when they met, now it was just annoying.

Damnit, she didn’t like surprises.