Between Hello and Goodbye(64)

I thought about what Silas had said. “We just keep going. Make it work the best we can.”

“A long-distance relationship?” Faith frowned. “More like long-distance relationshit.”

“Let’s just take it day by day and see what happens.”

She nodded, her green eyes searching mine. “A relationship means…”

“No fucking around with other people,” I said. “I won’t, Faith. I promise. I think you’re…”

I think you’re it for me.

“I won’t,” I said again.

Her smile was beautiful and kind of broke my heart because I knew no one had given her that kind of consideration before. It made me glad it was me.

“I won’t either,” she said. “I don’t think I could anyway. You’ve set an awfully high bar, firefighter.”

“Same, woman.”

I bent and kissed her, and we said our goodbyes.

Again.

And as I walked away from Faith, I had a deep certainty that there weren’t too many more times I was going to be able to do that .





Chapter Sixteen



Six months later…



“Faith, can I see you a minute?”

I looked up to see Cynthia Cross standing in the doorway to my office. Not her assistant, not a buzz from her office to mine, but her actual presence. Instantly, I was back in high school after getting caught breaking the rules. Which was frequently.

“Y-yes, of course.”

“My office, please.”

My assistant, Jess, looked up from the papers she was shuffling on the couch across from my desk, and we exchanged glances.

I stood and straightened my suit jacket. “If I’m not back in ten minutes…”

“I can have your Fendi?”

“The blue hobo with the silver buckle? Nevah.”

She chuckled. “Good luck.”

Jess could buy her own Fendi bags. I’d given her as many raises as accounting would allow, and she was getting ready to take on the role of account manager. I was going to miss her, but then I’d been the one who recommended her for promotion.

Because I just love doing hard things for the right reasons, apparently.

Well, not every hard thing. Asher was still thousands of miles away and neither of us seemed ready to change that, no matter how hard it was getting.

Not hard—torture.

I composed myself in front of Cynthia’s office, then peeked in. “You wanted to see me?”

While Terrance’s workspace was sleek and a little bit cold, Cynthia’s was welcoming and warm. Which was ironic because of my two bosses, Cynthia intimidated the crap out of me. Her office resembled a study in an old manor home with photos of her family, loads of books, and plush furniture.

“Faith,” she said from behind her mahogany desk. “Have a seat.”

I sat in the overstuffed chair as she fixed me with an intimidating expression. She reminded me of the actress Cherry Jones, with straight graying hair that touched her shoulders and piercing blue eyes.

“I have some good news,” she said tonelessly. “The Clio nominations have been announced. Your Zuma commercial has been nominated.”

“Holy crap,” I breathed, pushed back in the chair by the news. Terry had been talking it up for months, but now that it had happened, it touched me more than I expected. “Wow, that’s great. I’m thrilled and honored…”

“They are going to do simultaneous live award ceremonies in early February, each linked up via satellite,” Cynthia said. “One in London, one in New York, Chicago, Sydney, et cetera. And one here in Seattle. I don’t think I have to tell you that your commercial is a shoo-in for the Gold in its category but will more likely take home a Grand.”

“I don’t even know what to say.”

“I’m aware.” Her gaze sharpened. “Which brings me to my next point—the issue of you being made partner. We are still waiting for an answer.”

“I know,” I said. “I’m sorry…”

“It’s been six months, Faith. The only reason we haven’t offered the position to someone else is because there isn’t anyone else we want to give it to. But the time has come. Shit or get off the pot as they say.”

“If I don’t take it, will you fire me?”

“Does it have to come to that?” Cynthia cocked her head. “Is there a specific reason why you are hesitant to pull the trigger? You’ve been working steadily and impressively for nearly a year. A one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turnaround from your comings and goings of earlier. It would appear that you’re dedicated to this agency and to doing your best with every account we throw your way.”

“I am.”

“Well?”

God, what was I going to tell this super successful lady boss? That there was a man holding me back? That for the last few months I felt like I was standing in front of two different doors, one that had a life with Asher in it and one that did not. But that I was paralyzed and couldn’t muster the courage to fully step through either one.

I glanced at a photo on Cynthia’s desk of her and her husband and their three teenage children, all dressed in snow gear. Probably in Aspen or Switzerland.