His only reply was to tighten his arms around me.
MIA
Iburied myself in paperwork, determined to focus on anything except the memory of Jack’s arms around me. Twenty-four hours had passed since my meltdown in the server room, and I’d spent every single one of them trying to forget how it felt when he’d pulled me against his chest. How safe I’d felt. How perfectly I’d fit there.
Nope. Not thinking about it.
I’d managed to avoid him for most of the day by scheduling back-to-back meetings with my team and clients. Pure cowardice? Absolutely. But the alternative was facing him and acknowledging what had happened, and I wasn’t sure my professional dignity could survive that conversation.
A soft ping from my computer made me jump. An inter-office message notification popped up in the corner of my screen. My pulse leapt when I saw the sender.
Jack Sullivan.
My finger hovered over the mouse, suddenly unsure if I wanted to open it. What if he was canceling our evening session? What if he wasn’t? What if he wanted to talk about the server room? About the way I’d practically melted into him like some touch-starved desperado?
Taking a deep breath, I clicked.
The message was brief:Come to my office when you have a moment, please.
No explanation. No hint of what he wanted. Just a simple request that felt anything but simple.
I smoothed my skirt with shaky hands and checked my reflection in my darkened phone screen. I looked exactly as anxious as I felt. Great.
The walk to Jack’s office felt longer than usual, each step bringing a new wave of nervous energy. When I finally reached his doorway, I hesitated, watching him for a moment. He was focused on his computer, his brow furrowed in concentration, completely unaware of my presence.
I cleared my throat softly. “You wanted to see me?”
Jack’s head jerked up. His eyes met mine for the briefest moment before he looked back at his screen, his expression giving nothing away.
“How are you?” His tone was clipped, almost curt.
“I’m fine,” I answered automatically, though the word felt hollow. I wasn’t fine. I was a mess of confusion and embarrassment and something else I refused to name.
He nodded, seemingly satisfied with my response. “Good. I’m glad to hear it.”
Then he went back to typing, as if our conversation was over. As if he hadn’t called me into his office for this thirty-second exchange.
I stood there awkwardly, unsure if I was dismissed. When he continued working without another glance in my direction, I took a few tentative steps forward.
“Did you ask me to come in just so you could ask me how I am?”
Jack’s fingers stilled on the keyboard. Without looking up, he answered, “Yes.”
Something warm and sweet settled under my heart, pushing past the walls of professional detachment I’d been trying to rebuild. He’d been worried about me. Enough to check in, even if he was doing it in the most Jack Sullivan way possible.
“That’s very sweet,” I said softly, feeling a smile tug at my lips. “Thank you. I’m honestly okay.”
I turned to leave, already planning my escape back to the relative safety of my office, when Jack’s voice stopped me.
“I’ve notified Rebecca that all future requests for extra reporting are to come through me first. And that any current ones are to cease immediately.”
I spun back to face him. “That’s not necessary. I was coping with the workload. Really.”
Jack’s only response was to raise a single eyebrow at me. I hated that I found the gesture so sexy, even as irritation flared through me. I stepped further into the room, crossing my arms over my chest defensively.
“Honestly, what happened yesterday wasn’t work-related.”
His expression softened slightly, and he gestured toward the chair across from his desk. “Sit down, Mia.”
