Page 19 of Not Safe for Work
She had never heard Hartford say the word please before.
Or sound so wretched.
“Forgive me, my old friend. But if you behave poorly, what else am I to say?” Abel asked.
“You know I have no power over it, yet you plague me about it constantly.”
“I plague you because you do have power over your manners and temper. In fact, you are one of the most emotionally closed people I know. If you can stop a smile, you can stop cruelty and rudeness.”
“It was not cruelty that made me fire Ms. Elliot, and you know it.”
Hartford practically snapped the words. Though she could still hear the softer emotions in the back of his voice. She could hear years of their relationship, of his suppressed feelings—of his desire.
It rocked her back on her heels. It made her want to say stop.
Even as the rest of her said go go go.
“Yes, I do. But unfortunately, Ms. Elliot doesn’t,” Abel said, gesturing to her.
But Hartford wouldn’t look. “I will apologize, but I will not confess.”
“Yes you will. Go ahead.” Abel gestured again in her direction. And this time, Hartford did look.
It just seemed to take him an age. As if the tendons in his neck had seized, or something was preventing him from turning his head. His pride had become a stone block that slowly forced him away. It seemed like a miracle when he finally succeeded in looking at her.
His pale eyes met hers—though they were not so pale anymore.
They are sad,she thought. Desperate.
And warm, somewhere deep down.
“Ms. Elliot. Allow me to express my regret over my hasty actions on July 17. I was not myself due to circumstances beyond my contro—”
“Tom,” Abel warned, his hand tightening on Hartford’s shoulder. “Tell the truth now.”
“Damn you.” He paused there, clearly fighting something. But when Abel rubbed his shoulder, his features seemed to give a little. He was able to speak. “I was not myself . . . due to certain feelings that were aroused by . . . seeing my most trusted advisors . . . together . . . in that way. I experienced a wholly inappropriate sense of betrayal, and wish to extend my apologies, and offer you the position I should have given you years ago—Head of Development. You are more than qualified and I was shortsighted not to accept that earlier.”
“There now, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Abel asked.
“I think that largely depends on Ms. Elliot’s response.”
They both looked at her this time, one hopeful, the other sure of himself.
But it wasn’t Abel who was doing the hoping—it was her ice block of a boss.
The same boss who had told her to keep her mouth closed if she couldn’t say anything useful.
The one who hated everything and everyone.
It was staggering.
But it was something else, too.
“You shouldn’t worry. I don’t know what response to have. I want to say thank you for the apology, and accept a job I never thought you’d get around to giving me, but mostly I’m stuck on the word aroused,” she said.
Then flushed when Hartford tutted and shook his head.
“I merely meant it in the sense that feelings were triggered,” he said, composing himself again.
