Page 87 of Unravel Me

It’s a feeling, it’s a person.

It’s…the man across the street.

Elena starts talking about a new development south of town, but her words are drowned out by the thumping of my heart. A white pickup truck I know too well parks across the street and out steps Rhett. Blue jeans, work boots and a gray t-shirt span across his broad chest. He rounds the truck, running a hand through his ruffled dirty-blonde hair, and I stare like it’s a person who’s come back from the dead. My breath grows shallow, my heart caught in my throat as Rhett pulls out a toolbox, unaware of my eyes on him, unaware my heart is screaming at me, begging me to move, to do something. But I stay clutching this wooden chair like it’s my lifeline.

His blue eyes glance both ways across the busy city street before jogging across to the sidewalk. His brow is furrowed low, the face he makes when he’s thinking. The face I fell madly in love with. Of course, he looks good. Like, really good. Like he hasn’t lost sleep or woken up at 6 a.m. every day because he needs to type out messages he’ll never send me.

Elena asks a question, but I don’t answer, my mouth bone dry as Rhett steps onto the sidewalk, looking like he is going to walk directly into the glass, before he turns abruptly. He didn’t see me. His eyes never met mine, his face didn’t falter, his eyes didn’t mist over like mine right now. He didn’t see me.

I want to bang my hands on the glass and force him to stop and look at me.

But then what? What would I say?

All the things I’m too scared to even send in a text?

What would I tell him that he doesn’t already know?

You lied to him. You ruined everything.

“Audrey.” I jerked my gaze back to Elena, her brow furrowed as she followed my eyes out the window, landing on Rhett’s back. He was walking away, further and further away, and I was glued to the seat.

“I’m so sorry, I thought I saw someone I knew.” I attempt to smooth my expression, but the room feels like it’s spinning. Part of me wants to sink further into the chair and hunker down here for the foreseeable future, and part of me wants to run down the sidewalk after Rhett.

“No worries, I have to get back to the office with the keys, but I’ll call you when all is said and done. Congratulations on the sale!”

It takes a moment for her words to register, but I smile with tight lips and stand up, walking with her to the coffee shop door.

We shake hands, and my feet begin to move down the sidewalk towards my office building, back to my windowless, gray office. I walk, but I'm not sure I'm really moving.

My heart is still back at the coffee shop, wondering if I really saw him at all.

Chapter forty-nine

Audrey

Ilightly rap on Ed’s door and hear his gruff voice on the other side. His large corner office feels abnormally warm as I cross it, slipping into a chair across from his desk. His eyes stayed glued to the computer screen until I’ve been sitting for nearly a minute with my hands in my lap.

The tense energy stirring in the room puts me on edge, my foot shaking annoyingly as I try to brace myself for whatever conversation is about to happen.

“Audrey,” is all Ed says, swiveling in his leather chair to face me with yet again another unreadable expression.

“Ed, how are you?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t really answer. It was just a formality.

“Listen, I've been going over your portfolio. You haven’t signed on a new client for nearly six weeks.” Disappointment hangs in the air between us, and I try to swallow the rising lump in my throat.

“Yes, I know. I’m sorry—” I don’t know what I was going to tell him, but he doesn’t give me the chance either way.

“Your father and I go way back. Way, way back. You know that.”

I nod, brows creased, not sure where this is going, but know it’s probably nowhere good. “If you were anyone but Samuel’s daughter, you’d be out of this company already. You need to show me you want this.”

I freeze, my breath caught in my throat, the weight of this moment crashing over me. Then a hopeful thought creeps up in my head, one I suspect I've secretly had for a while.

I want him to fire me. I need him to. I want him to give me a way out, to sever the last thread that binds me to this empty, hollow life I’ve created.

“I’m not going to fire you, Miss Elson,” he exasperates, like he read my innermost confession. “But I’m going to transfer you to our auditing team. It will require up to 30 percent travel, and there will be a minor pay cut, but I hardly think that’s worse than being fired. Wouldn’t you agree?”

My gaze shifts from Ed’s face to his hands, then to my own hands. It feels like several minutes pass by before I muster up the courage to speak, but in actuality, it’s merely seconds.