Page 9 of Everything She Wanted

“It just so happens that Nick’s helped numerous tech companies raise millions of dollars in funding. With our busy schedules and most of the leadership team either away networking or pitching, this would be a great opportunity for you to get direct coaching from someone with a lot of experience in that area.”

I smile, but inwardly I curse myself for my ambitions. I should have kept my fool mouth shut. I’m nearly hyperventilating just sitting in a room with him. I can’t imagine having to work side-by-side with him.

“Nick can coach you on what investors are looking for, and you can help update the pitch decks and sales materials.”

Grunt work. I suppress a sigh.

“Then from there, we’ll see.”

I feign enthusiasm. I don’t need to be coached or to spend time making updates to existing materials. I want to be out there meeting investors and reeling them in.

“That sounds great,” I lie as I plaster a smile on my face, not daring to look at Nick.

“Oh, and I know the IT team isn’t the best at sharing product specs. He can also help with that. Nick’s well-versed at taking tech terms and turning them into easy-to-digest information audiences can understand.”

Tom looks at us both.

“So, for the next few months, you two will be spending a lot of time together.”

Fucking hell.

I smile even as my heart leaps out of my chest. He looks at me with nothing but a professional demeanour. A wave of heaviness washes over me as it hits: He doesn’t remember me.

My mind is having a hard time connecting Bar Guy to Nick Tremblay, even though they are the same in almost every way that I remember. The only difference was that for one fleeting moment, he was genuinely interested in me.

“Tom, thanks for this.” I give him a grateful smile and stand up more abruptly than I mean to. “I better get back to it,” I say, faking nonchalance.

“Right, you have that deadline. I won’t keep you any longer.”

I’m glad that I wore my new fitted white blazer and pencil skirt, and that I took care to apply a double coat of mascara this morning. Right now, they are the only things giving me confidence.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Nick,” I add in my most professional tone. I can pretend I don’t remember him either. Pretending ranks first in my skill set.

“I’m looking forward to working together,” he says sincerely. He gets up as I do, and I remember the last time he did that, too. Such a gentleman.

I try not to inhale the crisp yet slightly spicy scent of pine that clings to the air around him. A scent that takes me back to a night that should be nothing but an irrelevant memory.

I give them both a quick pressed-lip smile, grab my notebook, and do my best to walk out of the room at a normal pace.

I wanted to see him again, but not like this, and not now. Still, my heart doesn’t get the memo, and a little rush shoots through me when I think about seeing him every day. The excitement sits next to the disappointment that he’s forgotten me, though, and dulls it.

“Oh, and Nisha?”

I stop and turn back. Tom and Nick are both looking my way. “Nick will be in the vacant office next to yours, in case you need to find him.”

“Gotcha.”

Gotcha? I’m losing the ability to communicate articulately around him.

I turn and leave, passing Jess, who looks at me quizzically. I mouth, ‘Talk later,’ and rush into my office, sliding the door closed and leaning against it. My heart beats erratically.

I scoot around my desk and press speed dial on my phone.

“Rachel,” I say, “it’s him!” as soon as she picks up.

“Who?”

“The guy I met at that bar we went to when I first moved here.”