walked through the corridors of her offices, she saw all those faces, all those people, her employees. And she saw more than just her workers’ faces. She saw the faces of their families, their children. They depended on Taylor-Made Software and Josie Taylor for their livelihood. She paid their mortgages, bought their groceries, heated their houses.
Jobs were hard to come by these days, and fear of losing a high-paying job was evident in nearly everyone’s eyes.
So now, when she came close to hyperventilating at the thought of the company going under, the thought of all those people dependant upon her didn’t make her breathe any easier.
But two million dollars . . .
Two million dollars in the corporate bank accounts.
That
would give her peace of mind.
Despite everything that Cooper had said, she had to go ahead and take the contract. He had to understand. Thirteen months of hard work would be worth it, because after she had the two million dollars, she would finally feel okay. She could cut back on her hours and spend more time at home with him.
Yet there was a nagging thought in the back of her mind—what if two million dollars wasn’t enough?
Cooper sat on the floor as he rode the elevator up to their apartment. He’d stayed in the neighborhood bar breathing in secondhand smoke for more than two hours, and he hadn’t come up with any obvious answers. He’d considered getting bombed, but he’d switched to ginger ale after only one beer. His stomach was already in knots, and it didn’t take much imagination to know how terrible he’d feel drunk and spinning. And spending the night prone on the bathroom floor wouldn’t do him—or Josie—any good at all.
With a ding, the elevator reached the seventh floor, and the doors swooshed open. Cooper hauled himself to his feet and went into the hall. It was seventeen steps from the elevator to the apartment door. Seventeen more steps, and he would have to go inside and ask Josie not to take the contract for the Fenderson overhaul.
The sad thing was, he knew what her answer was going to be.
He reached the apartment and sat down again, outside the door. Why even bother going in if he already knew the answer?
Cooper rested his head back against the wall and closed his eyes, thinking about—of all things—the first time he’d kissed Josie.
It was their second date. He’d taken her to the Museum of Natural History. There had been a special exhibit on the solar system, and as Josie stood staring at samples of moon rocks, Cooper watched himself reach for her.
He hadn’t touched her before that. Not even after their first date, not even a handshake. He was afraid—afraid if he so much as brushed against her he’d be unable to keep from kissing her. And he didn’t want to frighten her with the intensity of his feelings. He was already in love with her—this woman that he barely knew. She was The One. He didn’t want her to mistake his passion for average, ordinary lust. And he didn’t want to scare her away.
But there in the museum, with dozens of giggling school children on the other side of the room, Cooper hadn’t been able to keep himself from touching her.
He watched himself gently touch her cheek—God, her skin was so smooth, so soft—and she turned to look up at him, surprise in her eyes. She wasn’t expecting him to touch her.
“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice barely louder than a whisper.
Josie blushed. She actually blushed, looking down, away from him. Her eyelashes lay against her cheeks, remarkably long and thick and dark. Perfection, Cooper thought. Everything about her was perfect.
And then she glanced back up into his eyes and smiled. Perfection had never been so perfect. Cooper could feel his heart expanding, growing, just like that children’s story about the Grinch, and he couldn’t keep himself from kissing her. He felt himself lean toward her. He knew what he was doing, but he was powerless to stop.
His new,
Lynn Picknett, Clive Prince