“Meaning?” He followed Callie toward the door and opened it for her.
“Meaning when that girl said she wanted more, she meant your heart.”
Dean scoffed. “How was I supposed to know that? More importantly, how do I go about offering her something like that?” It sounded preposterous.
Callie gave him the universal head tilt of sympathy. “I offered you no-strings sex tonight, Dean, and you didn’t even blink twice. I’m not letting it hurt my feelings or taking it personally because women were practically throwing themselves all over you tonight and all you did was watch that stunning brunette as if you’re life depended on her location in the room.” She let out a soft sound of laughter as if entertained by her own observations. “Silly man. You don’t have to offer that woman your heart. She already has it.”
C
heap wine should come with a warning label,
Fate decided somewhere around one in the morning. Not about driving or pregnancy. Well, those were good to have. But there should have been a bold print one about over indulging when your heart was broken.
Bad idea. Horrible, actually. Unfortunately, Fate had discovered this a little too late.
Halfway through her second bottle, she’d composed a well-thought-out email to the makers of Barefoot Bubbly. It was pink and effervescent, and it had a pretty label. But it had somehow made her heart hurt even worse.
Willie Nelson blared on about someone always being on his mind from her computer before her recently made playlist moved to Dean’s favorite band singing The One That Got Away.
It was on the fourth repeat of the damned heart-wrenching song that the image of Dean getting into the cab with the blonde resulted in another email.
At 2:24 in the morning, her throat sore from crying and crooning along with Willie, Fate Buchanan put in her two-week notice with Maxwell Medical. She didn’t do an online search for other companies that were hiring. Not in New York anyway.
She had figured out the train system and the buses, was on a first-name basis with the homeless man who hung out at her favorite coffee shop, and knew he preferred her to leave whipped cream off his damn coffee, thank you very much. And she loved Gwen with her whole heart. She told herself that they’d keep in touch. In a lot of ways, New York had finally accepted her. But it didn’t matter anymore.
Because this Texas girl was going home.
“S
he put in her notice. She’s leaving,” Regina said upon barging into his office.
“What?” Dean looked up from his speech.
Today was his welcome luncheon with the entire company. Every employee. Every board member. Everyone would be there. Satellite monitors had been set up so that employees from the international affiliates could see the conference. Even his father was attending in order to officially step down. He’d been swamped with meetings all morning and had just made it to his office with a few minutes to look over his speech once more before the luncheon.
“Fate Buchanan emailed HR her resignation Friday night. Well, roughly Saturday morning a little after two a.m. Any thoughts as to why she might have done that?”
The raw space where his heart should’ve been felt as if someone had poured gasoline into it. “She’s quitting?”
She’d told him that she loved her job—that she didn’t want to risk doing anything to lose it. And now she was quitting?
Like hell she was.
“Looks like it.” Regina placed a piece of copy paper containing a few short paragraphs onto his desk in front of him.
Dean scanned the words then read them more carefully. Fate had either been stroking out or dog drunk when she’d composed this.
“Has HR seen this?”
Regina snorted. “Please. I know we haven’t been working together that long, but give me a little more credit than that.”
“Delete it. Permanently.” He slipped it into his folder containing his speech and stood. “Is everyone ready for me?”
“Just say what you mean, Dean.” Regina’s eyes lit up. “Oh, that rhymes. Think I’ll make it my new motto.”
“Very cute. Is she in there?”
Regina nodded. “She’s hanging near the back, but she’s in there.”
“Good.”
Dean’s mouth went dry as they walked to the elevator together. Regina handed him a bottle of water.
“You’re like a mind reader.”
The woman grinned. “That’s why you pay me the big bucks.”
Once they entered the room, the easy flow of conversation ended abruptly. Dean nodded at a few familiar faces and shook hands with his father and each board member before taking his place at the podium in the front of the packed room.
He had a speech, a perfectly good, albeit very scripted, one. But when he opened his folder and pulled out his papers, all he could focus on was an email from the woman he’d fallen for. The woman who was watching him with hurt in her eyes from the back of the room.
It was a lot of pressure, and a lot of people whose jobs and livelihoods depended on him. As much as he wanted to put their minds at ease and tell them that he was going to be the best chief executive officer he possibly could be, he knew deep down that he couldn’t really guarantee that. Not right now, anyway. And Dean didn’t believe in empty promises.
First, he had to make sure the woman he loved knew what he wanted.
So he took a deep breath and tried to give her more.
F
ate felt the hand in hers tighten. Gwen had remained in the back of the room with her where there was standing room only despite the fact that Keaton was way up front with Dean. She’d reached over and taken Fate’s hand the moment Dean had entered the room, and now, she was giving it a little squeeze. She forced a smile for her sweet friend.
He was so beautiful that it took her breath away. He wasn’t just the sexy stranger from the beach anymore—he was the powerful CEO of a multinational company with a presence so strong that it almost seemed majestic. Everyone in the room had turned their attention to him and his magnetic charm.
She was so proud of him that it hurt. It also hurt to know that she wasn’t going to be a part of this company anymore, of Gwen’s wedding planning, or of a marketing department where she could do a job that mattered and she truly enjoyed.
But Dean Maxwell wasn’t the kind of man a girl could have for a limited time only and just let go of when the time came. She’d learned the hard way, and the price for that lesson was a bus ticket home.
When his eyes landed on hers, she tried with all her might to give him an encouraging smile. He’d given her what he could and that was okay. One day, she knew she’d move past this.
Gwen had told her once that, sometimes, the worst things that happen lead directly to the the best things, and Fate now knew that to be true. So she had something she hadn’t had before meeting Dean for the first time.
Hope.
It didn’t yet outweigh the heartache, but it was in there somewhere. Small and shrouded in the shadow of a bruised heart, but alive.
“Good afternoon, everyone. Thank you so much for joining me here today. As many of you already know, I’m Dean Maxwell, your brand-new CEO here at Maxwell Medical.”
His voice was strong, and all eyes were on him. Fate glanced at the clock on her cell phone, growing worried that she might not be able to make it through this. Gwen gave her hand another squeeze.
“It’s funny. Not too long ago, I gave a speech as the new CFO and I remember thinking to myself, ‘It doesn’t matter what I say. I have to prove myself. I have to demonstrate my ability to do the absolute best job possible for each and every one of you before anything I say or promise actually matters.’ So that’s what I want to say to each and every one of you here today.” His gaze scanned the room and every cell in Fate’s body stood at attention. “I can only promise to do my best and I realize that it might not always be good enough. But that’s the promise I can make and keep.”