Misadventures with the Boss (Misadventures #12)(40)

It was like a sucker punch to the solar plexus, and I sucked in a breath. “Piper, I don’t understand. If you got a new job, you know I would pay you more. What is it you need? Name your price.”

She shook her head, her bottom lip quivering now. “This isn’t about a price. And it’s not you either, I swear. I just need to be with my family for a while. I’m homesick.”

“Then I’ll fly you to see them. Don’t be so drastic. This can still work.”

She took a shaky breath. “It’s not something a quick visit can fix.”

“And how can you be so sure?”

“Because…” She swallowed hard. “Because there’s an emergency. With my sister. I have to be with her, and I have to focus on doing what’s right for my family right now.”

I blinked. “Is there something I can do to help? Does she need a specialist? Is this why you had to go to the doctor? Does she have some genetic disease you needed to be tested for?”

“Jackson, I can’t talk about it. Please, for once, don’t try to micromanage the situation, okay? I need to leave, and you need to let me. End of story.”

This was nonsense. No matter where she was, I could find a way to be with her. If only she’d just let me in and tell me what was going on.

She blew out a trembling sigh, and for a second, the Piper I knew reared her head. I could see the affection in her eyes and the sadness too. “We both know you’re not the long-distance type. We had fun together. Why can’t you just let that be enough?”

“Because it’s not,” I argued. “It’s not enough for me. I’m not willing to let you just walk away with barely an explanation about what I can do or how I can help.”

“That’s because there is nothing you can do. The best thing you can do for me is let me start my life over somewhere new. To let me leave you here, where you belong.” She sniffled and then swiped a hand over her face. “And to promise me you won’t come looking for me.”

“No,” I said solemnly. “I deserve more than just this pathetic explanation, Piper.”

“And I’m not willing to give that to you,” she said, her voice cold and stony for the first time since she’d begun to speak. “Goodbye, Jackson.”

She strode toward the door for the second time in as many days, leaving me broken in her wake.





Chapter Twenty





Jackson





No.

This wasn’t happening.

I wasn’t going to allow it to happen.

I gripped the edge of my desk and propelled myself from my chair and crossed the room in three easy strides before flinging my door open again. The people in the cubicles nearest my office all turned to look, but I ignored them, scanning the aisles instead for the pretty dark-red wave of hair I knew so well.

When I found her, though, she was turning, facing the metal doors of the elevator as they slid closed in front of her.

“Damn it,” I muttered, closing my hands into fists as I stalked toward the stairwell, but even I knew better than to race the elevator.

I could go to her apartment and head her off, but that still didn’t guarantee me the answers I was looking for. She clearly wasn’t going to give me what I needed. She wasn’t ready to talk.

Which left me with no other choice.

Tightening my jaw, I made my way to Human Resources and stopped short in front of Clara’s desk.

She looked up at me, her gray eyebrows tilting in curiosity.

“I need the keys to the file room,” I said.

“Right away,” she croaked. She opened a metal drawer beside her and grabbed a little ring of keys.

“Which ones go to the personnel files?”

“The personnel files?” she parroted back to me.

“Yes,” I snapped. I didn’t have time for this. I needed answers, and I needed them now. There was only the slightest chance my plan would work, and I had to get it in motion as quickly as I could muster.

“The blue one,” Clara said. “It’ll be the stack closest to the door.”

“Thank you,” I murmured and then paced the length of the floor until I got to the file room, all too aware of the way each of my employee’s eyes followed me as I went. I wanted to snap at them to get back to their business, but I couldn’t bring myself to slow down enough to bother—not when I had something more important on the line.

I shut the door behind me, pulled the ancient rope that turned on the file room’s dim light, and stuck the blue key into the nearest filing cabinet.

Quickly, I riffled through the alphabetical lettering until I reached the name I needed and snatched up Piper’s file, my heart pounding in my chest.

This was it. The moment of truth.

I flipped open the file and thumbed past the insurance and social security information until I found her emergency contact form. The first person listed was her mother. The second?

Her sister, Hailey.

Boom.

My heart leapt into my throat, and I pulled my phone from my pocket, quickly dialing her number with shaking, anxious fingers. The phone rang once, twice, and then a dial tone sounded.

The number I reached had been disconnected.

“Damn it,” I swore again. She must have gotten a new phone. But how likely was it that she had gotten a new address?