Bargaining with the Bride(50)

And yet...

What attracts you to this subject?

My attraction is hard to quantify. There is a physical element. All the usual primitive longings that a woman can have for a man are there. Still, there was something else. Like a magnetic pull. When I'm with Garret, I can't imagine who I am when he's not around. I feel better. More important. It's not just that he's a wonderful, smart, perfectly unique person. He makes me feel like I'm one too.

He let the paper fall to the desk.

He'd let things get too far with Rachael. That much was certain, and completely unfixable.

Still, now he knew there was a bigger problem that needed to be fixed.

Lucky for him, this time he knew exactly what to do.





15





Rachael's exit interview was scheduled for nine that morning, but she showed up at quarter of, coffee in hand, hoping against hope that she got one of the secretaries that was easier to sway than the others. Or at least one of the ones she hadn’t passive-aggressively laid the smack down on.

That way, it would be easier to strong arm them into letting her see Garret one last time. After what had happened, odds were that he'd never want to see her again, but she still couldn't bring herself to leave him without giving it one last chance.

With a deep breath, she strode toward the secretarial cubicle, but when she rounded the corner, she found that nobody was there. She checked her watch. Ten to nine. By now, the office should have been in full swing. But then... where the hell were the secretaries.

Hell, where was anyone? She walked from one desk to the next, but every ringing phone clicked off within seconds, going directly to voicemail.

"What..." She whispered to herself, and then continued on to Garret's office.

Even if there had been some sort of Wednesday morning rapture, she was sure nothing had torn that man from his desk.

And she was right.

Or, at least, partially right.

Garret stood staring out the huge, glass back wall of his office. Every surface in the place was covered in candles, glowing in the mid-morning light. The cool, gray floors were hardly visible beneath the fresh carpet of rose petals that covered the ground.

Rachael's breath caught, but she stepped forward still, clearing her throat so that Garret would turn around.

When their eyes met, she was lost.

He was all stern mouth and serious face, the same way he always looked when he was studying something intently. But there was nothing else around. Nothing but the two of them and the energy that pulsed between, drawing her closer to him with every breath.

She met him half way across the room.

"I'm a little early," she whispered, silently hating herself for how stupid she sounded.

His face burst into a giant grin, though, and he tipped his head toward her. "Actually, I think I'm a little late."

"It was my fault—"

He held up his hands and then took each of her palms in his. "Blame does no one any good. I'm not interested in that. Still, I think there are a few things I should tell you, just in case today really is the last time we work together."

She held up a hand and with the other she reached into the satchel on her hip, then pulled a large manila envelope from within. "You can say whatever you want, but first I wanted to give you this stuff. It's um, all my medical files. Stuff about each of the guys I've been involved with. As much as I know anyway. I cross-referenced each and made a few charts I think you'll find useful. Oh—"

She scrambled for the bag again and pulled out another envelope. "This is the file on Matchware Incorporated. I did some research, but you know I think we're better off without the deal. Even if we do restructure the matching software, I actually think we could crush them as a competitor and maintain our own—"

It was his turn to hold up a hand, and she quieted, even though she hadn't gotten to tell him about the next round of charts and spreadsheets she made.

Instead of speaking, though, Garret surprised her. He turned on his heel, walked to the corner of his desk, and shoved all of her paperwork in the garbage.

"But I—" She started, but he shook his head.

"The deal is off. You don't owe me any of that."

"I know I don't owe it to you, but I want you to have it. If it can help the company—"

"The company doesn't matter."

She blinked, unsure if she'd heard him right. "The company—?"

"Doesn't matter. Not right now. I've given too much to this company. I've devoted all of my time and all of my relationships to it. I've ruined everything because of it. I'm not going to feed you into this like you're some kind of fruit fly for dissection."

"But what about Matchware—"

"You were always a savvy business woman. I'd done some of that research myself. In truth, the largest part of the merger was to expand the company into New York. We'd leave the small town life behind. Brooks isn't happy about it, but for now, I think we're staying put."