Page 103 of Bossman

Chase’s voice was quiet. “That’s not what I was doing. I just wanted some privacy so we could talk. Sam tends to barge in.”

I stood in the middle of his office awkwardly. The thought of settling in and making myself comfortable was terribly distressing. Chase walked to the seating area, rather than to his desk.

When he turned around and realized I was just standing in the middle of his large office, he called to me. “Reese.”

“Don’t say my name.” I have no idea why, but it bugged me. Probably because I liked the way it sounded coming from his mouth, and I didn’t want to like anything about him.

He stared at me. “Okay. Would you please come sit for a few minutes? I won’t say your name.”

Begrudgingly, I sat. It was childish, but I wouldn’t look at him. Even when he cleared his throat, I stared at my nails, pretending I was interested in them.

“I don’t want you to leave. You’re good at your job, and you were happy here.”

“Were being the key word in that statement. Notice the tense there. It makes all the difference.”

“I can’t take back what happened between us. I wish I could so I wouldn’t have hurt you.”

It felt like he’d slapped me. He wished we’d never happened?

“Screw you.”

“What did I say? I was just trying to apologize.”

“I don’t want your apology. Nor do I want to hear about your regret over me.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Whatever.” I waved my hand. “Are we done?”

“I meant I regret hurting you. Not that I regret us being together.”

“Are you done?”

He sighed. “Can you look at me? Just for a minute.”

I pulled together every ounce of my anger and stared daggers at him. But seeing him look the way he did, I broke within five seconds.

My eyes softened, along with my voice. “Are you sick?”

He shook his head and whispered, “No.”

“Then what is it?” I hated the desperation in my voice. Hated that all it took was one pitiful look from him, and I turned soft.

He stared into my eyes for the longest time. There was so much emotion swirling around in his, so much heartbreak and pain. Yet I could have sworn there was something more…the same something I felt for him deep down inside. The man still had my heart, even though it now lay in his hands, broken.

The more he stared, the more I saw inside of him, and the more it grew inside me again.

Hope.

I’d given it up. Yet somehow it found its way back.

Talk to me, Chase. Tell me what’s going on.

Hope. It’s an amazing thing. It grows inside of you like a vine and wraps around your heart, making it warm.

Until someone stomps on it. Then that vine tightens its hold until the blood can no longer pump through, and your heart quickly dies.

Chase looked away when he finally spoke. “I’m not the man for you.” Abruptly, he stood. His voice changed to cold and distant. “But you should stay. I know your job means a lot to you.”