I cringed at that thought, as visions of Scott and his tight jaw and distant eyes brushed past me yesterday when he left me alone at the bar.
I hated how hurt I was as I finished off that drink, wishing I’d never said a word. I hated that I let him make me believe that there was more to him and that maybe this could work. Most of all, I hated that I missed him.
16
SCOTT
“This looks good Harrison.”I took the conference call from one of Donovan’s private office suites on the Executive floor Friday morning. I scrolled down the spreadsheet and business plan as the man on the other line spoke. It still showed less effort than I expected but it was something. “More realistic timeline and I like the switch to less expensive vendors. Have you had anyone on your team research any of them?”
“Of course,” Todd answered almost too quickly. “I feel like we’ve done as much as we could on our end, Scott. And we’re not stopping there; I’ve given some serious thought to cutting our staff.”
I sat up in my chair. “Why is that? Do you feel you’re overstaffed?”
“Well, no I actually think we’re adequately staffed and pretty consistent with our clientele.”
I shook my head, swallowing hard. Because I knew the answer to this but had to ask it. “Then why are you giving it serious thought Todd?”
He went silent for a brief moment. Then spoke in aggravating circles. “I thought…maybe that was… what you typically—”
“Understood,” I mumbled and shook my head. “Let me give you a call back, someone just walked in. Thanks.” I disconnected and rubbed my eyes before running both hands over my face. I was cutting this guy way more slack than I should have.
This woman was getting to me. She was making me rethink my business strategies. How the hell could she have done that? No one, not even Donovan, had ever successfully shifted me off course. I never made the wrong assessments. I could see what the problem was after just one review of financial statements and business plans. And able to fix it—fast. The less time I spent on an account, the quicker I could get out and move on. Donovan had once joked that it was the same way I preferred my women. In, out and move on.
I personally would have given myself a little more credit than that. There were a handful of women I had given more than a single thought to. Well, more than a singlenightto. I didn’t do much thinking when it came to women. And apparently, I wasn’t doing much thinking when it came to Isabel, either. Luckily, she reminded me why I steered clear of women who got too involved in my life, personallyorprofessionally.
Who was she to basically tell me my business strategies were immoral?
And the only reason I couldn’t stop thinking about her was because of the insensitive way I bolted from our lunch date. It was out of character for me. That was the only reason I’d called her this morning—to apologize. But she didn’t answer, and it was for the best.
I stood and paced the length of the office. I’d never met a woman like her before and if she got in my head in a matter of minutes, then seeing her anymore would be sheer suicide to everything I’d built myself up to become.
Kat peered into the office. “Mr. Weston, you asked me to remind you when it was almost eleven.”
I glanced at my watch and sat back down, mentally shaking off the hurt look in Isabel’s features. “Thanks, Kat. Please let me know when Starr Howard gets here. Oh and before you send her in here, please ask her if she has new plans for me to review. Otherwise, reschedule with a location TBD.”
“Noted.” She began to slip behind the door.
“Kat?”
Instantly, she appeared back in full view.
I rubbed my forehead. “What do you women expect men to do when they screw up?”
Kat seemed taken aback by the question. “Um…I…”
“Like say a guy did something that was messed up…you don’t respond to his messages. So, what do you expect him to do? I mean I know there’s that whole ‘sending flowers to your office’ thing…”
“Um, sure, maybe ten years ago…” Kat said honestly. “But the modern-day woman prefers something more…I don’t know…creative, I guess.”
I stared at her. “Creative,” I repeated.
She narrowed her eyes. “There isn’t one solution really. It depends on who this woman is. How you met, details you know about her. What kind of things she likes or appreciates.”
“Thanks, that's really helpful.” It might have been the biggest lie I told all week.
“Of course.” Kat didn’t seem so sure she believed me anyway.
My cell phone vibrated and my eyes darted to the screen. A pang of disappointment followed by anger hit me just before I reluctantly answered.
