Chapter 38

I had envisioned tonight to be a lavish affair with champagne flowing and a lot of we-can-finally-be-together sex. Instead, I'm alone, having a glass of not-so-good wine I picked up at a liquor store for the sole reason that it was pink.

I want to see Thomas, kiss him, hear his voice, have him tell me everything is going to be all right. I pick up my phone to call him or text him at least a thousand times, but every single time, I drop the phone back down because what am I going to say?

Either he quits, or I do. Thomas didn't seem very inclined to go against his father. And I've spent the best part of two hours looking for jobs online. All positions at director level like mine require ten or more years of experience in a managerial role. I've only been in mine for two. At Mercer Robotics, I got lucky. I started at entry level, but my boss recognized the potential in me in less than a year working together and then started grooming me to take over right away.

And the hard-ass engineers in my department had time to get to know me and trust in my capabilities before I took over.

But to go into an interview cold, with my young face and pink hair… they're going to take one look at me and think I'm joking.

I could go to a headhunter and have them cash in on my reputation. But even if by some stroke of luck, a company gave me the job, I know how hard it'd be to gain the respect of a new team who's never worked with me. The struggle it'd be to get older, more experienced people to follow my lead. Plus, the idea of leaving my people, my projects, is daunting. I don't want to lose them.

But I also don't want to lose him.

So, what?

Maybe I'll be so miserable at work from now on with all the gossip about that stupid sex tape that I'll want to quit.

That is if Thomas wants anything to do with me at all, considering how I hit him below the belt and threw his ex-girlfriend's words right back into his face.

He was so angry. No, worse, he was hurt and crestfallen.

What did I expect him to do, anyway? Choose me over his family's empire?

No one has ever chosen me. Samuel chose his family. My last boyfriend chose his pride. My father chose freedom from responsibility. And my mother chose herself. Maybe I'm not worthy of being chosen. And even this time, Thomas will choose his family, his billions, his legacy. Not me. It's never me.

And, honestly, I can't expect Thomas to throw all his privileges away after a single night of passion. Yeah, he said he loved me. But now, that love has to be tested against his loyalty to his family and his duty to uphold the Mercer name. And I knew that going in. I knew the risks, but I couldn't stay away from him. Not when he looked at me with those intense, gold-speckled hazel-green eyes that can see into my soul.

And now I can't love him openly, and I can't go back to not loving him.

It sucks. Everything sucks.

The next few days are equally horrible. Thomas doesn't show up at work. Half the office gives me the side-eye while Maria keeps a steady flow of overly sweet coffee drinks coming my way.

On Wednesday, Garrett hands in a transfer request to a different department. He comes into my office wearing a new suit. How do I know it's new? He tells me. Garrett informs me he wore it specifically to interview with the head of production to make sure his transfer to a department with better morality went smoothly. I approve the request without a moment's hesitation. Glad he'll be someone else's problem from now on.

Later that day, I'm sitting at my desk doing a budget review with Maria when an email from Garrett pops up in my inbox. The subject line reads "Goodbye Friends."

I turn to Maria, not sure what to expect. A final insult? A genuine goodbye?

Maria grabs the mouse and clicks on it. "Let's see what the toad has to say."

The message is basically a long passive aggressive goodbye.

Maria rolls her eyes. "What a total tool."

Garrett concludes the email saying he's attaching a photo of all of us together on Halloween and reiterating how sorry he is to leave, but also specifying how his values won't allow him to do any different.

I frown as I see the extension of the attachment is an mp4, a video not a photo.

"He sent a video?" I ask. "You think it was a mistake?"

Maria shrugs. "Open it."

She leans over my shoulder as I hit play, and we both gasp. Garrett has appeared on screen, shirtless and flexing in front of his bedroom mirror like a bodybuilder.

"Feel that muscle!" Garrett growls to himself in the video, kissing his biceps. "Garrett, you handsome devil, you're a born leader! Rooooarrr."

Maria and I stare at each other, jaws dropped. We can't believe what we're seeing.

"Check out those rock-hard abs!" video Garrett continues. "Ladies, control yourselves!"

That's it. Maria and I completely lose it, doubling over in laughter. I have tears streaming down my cheeks. We're howling, and I have to pause the video to catch my breath.

"Oh my gosh, can you believe that?" I say between fits of giggles.

Maria wipes her eyes, still cracking up. "That was the greatest thing I've ever seen. He's even more delusional than I thought!"

K-2P waltzes next to us. "Told yah he was pretty big on self-esteem."

"Yes but this?"

We laugh hysterically as I play the video again. Garrett just gifted us the best goodbye present ever.

On Thursday morning, I'm sure I've hit rock-bottom when I bump into a security guard, and the poor guy takes one look at me and his eyes widen in recognition. Then he lowers his gaze to the floor and blushes from his neck to the tips of his ears. He must've been one of the guards on duty the night I desecrated the lab with Thomas.

But Friday morning, things escalate to a new level of horribleness when I arrive at work and find Monica, Nolan Mercer's personal assistant, waiting for me in the lobby.

She greets me with a tight-lipped smile and informs me that Mr. Mercer would like a word with me in his office.

This time I don't need K-2P to run projections to know that I'm either getting fired or going to face some serious repercussions for my actions with Thomas.

The ride in the elevator is tortuously slow and nerve-racking. When we reach the top floor, Mr. Mercer's assistant barely meets my eye as she gestures to the corner office. "He's waiting for you."

Well, that doesn't sound ominous at all.

Bracing myself for the end of my career, I approach the open door.

Contrary to my previous visit, the president of the group is standing this time, his back turned to me as he stares out of his giant windows.

I've barely made it a step into the office when he calls out, "Please close the door behind you, Dr. Campbell."

So he can murder me with no witnesses? I still do as he says and even push a squeaky, "Morning, sir," out of my lips.

He doesn't turn, or sit, or invite me to sit. So I stand awkwardly in the middle of his corner office as he talks.

"I have to confess that when I assigned my son to your division for the beginning of his training, this was not the outcome I had in mind."

I'm not sure what "this" means to him. The sex tape? Thomas wanting to transfer to another division? Something else entirely?

I keep quiet and wait.

Ever so slowly, Nolan Mercer turns to face me and his eyes widen slightly. I wasn't forewarned about this meeting, so I'm standing in front of him wearing an old pair of jeans leggings and a black hoodie with "robotic dogs still byte" slashed in white print across the front. In the elevator, I haphazardly pulled my hair into a bun but without a mirror, I'm not sure if I properly concealed all the pink tips.

The president of Mercer Industries is still studying me, inexorably silent. What is he thinking?

Should I talk? Apologize for defiling his lab? His son?

Maybe it's better if I keep my mouth shut.

Finally, after what seems an interminably long time, Nolan Mercer moves toward his chair and gestures for me to do the same.

Sitting while facing each other makes things a fraction less awkward, but I still feel like I'm sitting on a seat made of thorns.

"So, you and my son?" Mr. Mercer pierces me with his laser-blue eyes.

I concentrate as best as I can on containing the heat in my cheeks. But if he's really seen the video, it might be too late to show any kind of decorum.

When I still don't talk, he picks up an envelope from his desk, flipping it in his hands. The back side is blank; on the front side, a single word is spelled out in black sharpie: yes.

My heart jolts in my chest as I recognize Thomas's handwriting.

"Thomas came in here last night and asked me to answer one question honestly."

My brain whizzes with possibilities. What question? And is yes the answer his father gave him? What's inside the envelope?

Nolan Mercer stares at me expectantly, letting me know it's time for me to become an active participant in this conversation.

"What question, sir?"

"He asked me if, come six months, I was planning to hold him down with another request to stay on at Mercer Robotics."

My eyes drop to the yes written on the envelope, then latch back onto Nolan Mercer's blue ones.

"The hint came from you, didn't it?"

I see no point in denying it. "And now you're angry with me?"

Thomas's father doesn't answer right away. But when he does, his lips tilt up at the corners. "To the contrary, Dr. Campbell. I'm surprised by you—a little blindsided, even. But mostly intrigued. When I asked Thomas to join Mercer Robotics, I wanted him to step up, to take responsibility for something so that he'd be more ready to step into my shoes one day. I sure didn't expect him to fall in love and quit the family business."

Thomas told his father he's in love with me and he quit his job? The two revelations battle for attention inside my brain. I haven't heard from him in three days, I've no idea what he's thinking. Until a minute ago, I wasn't even sure he still wanted anything to do with me. But if he handed in his resignation and told his father we're serious, then… maybe… there's hope.

I must be gaping at Thomas's father like an idiot because he clicks his tongue. "Ah, I take it this is news for you, too. Guess I'm not the only one who gets to be surprised these days."

I swallow. "Why have you called me here, sir?"

If it's not to fire me and not to give me a roasting, I want to know what I'm doing here.

"Ah, engineers." Nolan Mercer shakes his head, dare I say almost benevolently? "Going always straight to the point." He sighs. "You're here because I wanted to have a chat with the woman who made my son finally take life seriously, and made him eager to make something of his many talents, even if it won't be in the family business."

"I'm not fired?"

Nolan Mercer actually chuckles at that. "No, Dr. Campbell, you're not fired. Mercer Robotics has already lost too many excellent resources to part with another one. And you're too precious to the department, anyway. In fact, I should probably let you get back to work. I've been told Bios Torc Solutions is on our heels about hand-guided programming."

Am I being dismissed? Seems like it.

I give him a curt nod. "Very well, sir."

I stand up, but instead of letting me go like last time, Nolan Mercer stands up as well and escorts me to the door.

"Dr. Campbell," he starts, then stops. "May I call you Reese?"

This conversation is getting weirder by the second.

At a loss for words, I simply nod.

"Very well, Reese. And I don't expect you to call me Dad any time soon, but maybe you can drop the sir?"

"Yes, S—err…"

"Nolan will be fine."

I nod again.

He smiles and then winks at me. "Looking forward to seeing you at family brunch on Sunday."