The Hang Up (First Impressions) (16 page)

“Look, Miriam. I—I can’t do this right now.”

Her smile vanished. “You can’t do what?”

“I can’t be in a relationship. Not with you or with anyone else.”

She stared at him, unblinking, as the smile vanished from her beautiful eyes. She didn’t say a word, and Jason knew he owed it to her to fill the silence.

“Look, I care about you a lot, but I need to take care of my family,” he said. “I owe it to them not to get distracted, not to let them down by being selfish about—”

“There you are!”

They both jumped as Miriam’s business partner, Holly, came bustling into the room. Her face was etched with concern, and she moved past him to drop into an empty seat beside Miriam. “Are you okay? I already gave them the insurance card out front, so it’s all taken care of.”

“I’m fine.” Miriam stared at Jason for two more beats before turning to Holly and offering a pasted-on smile. “Thanks for coming. Who’d have thought I’d need my wallet on a hike?”

“It’s no problem, I was in the neighborhood.” Holly turned to Jason. “Thanks for taking care of her.”

The words felt like a knife through his spleen. He didn’t deserve any thanks, especially not on Miriam’s behalf, and he sure as hell hadn’t done enough to protect her. “Miriam’s the one to thank,” he said. “She found Henry when he got lost.”

She found him, not you. All the more reason you need to cut this off right now.

Miriam was staring at him like she wanted to say something else, but their audience was growing. The doctor walked back into the room, clearly unaware he’d just strolled into an awkward cesspool of heartache and self-flagellation and hurt.

“You’re good to go,” he said to Miriam. “That painkiller we gave you might make you a little woozy, so we’re going to need someone else to drive you home.”

The good doc looked from Miriam to Holly to Jason, then back to Miriam again, probably sensing something was off here. An awkward silence stretched out, and Jason hugged his sleeping nephew tighter.

I could have lost him. All because I got distracted.

“I can drive,” Holly offered. “I’m headed that direction anyway, so as long as Jason doesn’t mind—” she trailed off, looking at him with a question in her eyes. “I’m assuming you probably need to take care of your nephew, right?”

He nodded, his throat thick and achy. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Miriam’s eyes, certain he wasn’t strong enough to get up and walk out of the room if he looked at her.

“Yes,” he said softly, squeezing Henry tighter. “I need to take care of my nephew.”

Chapter Fourteen

“You are a complete dumbass.” Ellie grabbed hold of Jason’s tie and cinched it a whole lot tighter than it needed to be.

He stepped back, freeing the tie from his sister’s clutches as he turned to straighten it in her hallway mirror. She probably had a point, but she didn’t need to strangle him to prove it.

“Why am I a dumbass?” he muttered. “Because I haven’t mastered the art of the Windsor knot? Sue me, I’m an adventure guide. It’s not like I was born a CEO.”

“No, but you were born an idiot, apparently.” Ellie folded her arms over her chest and shook her head. “I wasn’t talking about the tie, you moron. I was talking about the fact that you haven’t called Miriam for almost two weeks.”

“I called,” he insisted, keeping his focus on the tie so he wouldn’t have to meet his sister’s accusatory gaze. “I called the day after she got hurt to make sure she was okay. I even sent flowers.”

“Right. That’s exactly what every woman wants from the guy she’s in love with. A bunch of generic roses in lieu of conversation or physical contact.”

Jason scowled and turned to face her. “She’s not in love with me,” he insisted, pretty sure it was true. “This just isn’t a good time for a relationship.”

“You are such a jerk.” Ellie shook her head in disgust. “She
is
in love with you, just like you’re in love with her. It’s fucking obvious to anyone who’s seen the two of you together.”

“Which hasn’t happened for two weeks, as you just pointed out. Clearly, she’s over me.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and shoved at his chest. “I talked to her yesterday, idiot. She’s helping me with my website. I could tell the second I brought up your name that she’s still hung up on you, though I can’t for the life of me figure out why.”

Her words made Jason want to punch himself in the face, but they also sent a warm current shooting through his chest. So Ellie had talked to Miriam? His whole body stung with envy. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her for the last two weeks. About her kiss, her touch, the way she lit up the whole damn room when she smiled.

Was it so wrong to be glad she’d been thinking about him, too?

Yes, it’s wrong,
he told himself.
You gave up that right when you said good-bye.

He looked down at his cuff links, focusing his attention on those so he wouldn’t get hung up on Miriam again.

“You could have a relationship, you know,” Ellie said. “If you’d stop trying to be the goddamn white knight all the time and just let someone love you, you might actually be happy.”

“I am happy,” he insisted, not meeting his sister’s eyes.

“Not like you were when you were with her. I saw the way you lit up when she was in the room. You could have that forever if you’d stop letting your overprotective macho bullshit run your life.”

“Thanks for the psychoanalysis.” Jason glanced at his watch. He had plenty of time to make it to the board meeting for the big decision, but still. He wanted to get there early, to clear his mind and free himself from the jumble in his head and heart. He’d been preparing for it all week, crunching numbers and meeting with staff and learning what made Urban Trax tick.

It had been a welcome distraction from the deep ache in his gut when he thought about Miriam.

He turned to his sister and took a deep breath. “Do I look okay? Like a real, professional CEO, I mean?”

Ellie gave him a grudging nod, then reached up and straightened the tie again. “You’re fine. You look great. You’ll knock ’em dead in that presentation.”

Jason nodded, hoping she was right while wondering why the words sounded so hollow.

You know why. It’s not the same without Miriam. Nothing’s the same.

“Jason,” Ellie said, her voice softer now. “You know I love you. But I think you’re making a big mistake. Don’t you think it’s okay to snatch a little happiness for yourself for a change instead of running yourself ragged making sure everyone else is safe and warm and fed?”

“No.”

She punched him in the arm. Hard.

“Ouch,” he grumbled, brushing his hand over the wrinkle she’d made in the sleeve of his jacket. “Cut it out. The board is going to wonder why I’m covered in bruises.”

“Good. Maybe it’ll distract them from the sight of you with your head wedged up your ass.” She turned and stomped away, then paused at the door. “Good luck with the presentation.”

“Thank you.”

“I know you’ll do great.”

“I hope so.”

“You’re smart and courageous and the best guy I know, and if anyone can save those people’s jobs, it’s you.”

“Thank you,” he said, his throat tight.

“It’s not too late to fix this, you know. This thing with Miriam.”

He nodded but said nothing, remembering the wounded look on Miriam’s face when he’d left her there at urgent care. The hollowness in her voice when he’d called to make sure she was okay and they’d spoken like two strangers who’d never known each other outside the boardroom.

It is too late,
he thought as his sister’s words echoed in his ears.
It’s much, much too late.

…

Miriam glanced at her watch. It was ten forty-five, which meant Jason would be stepping into the Urban Trax board meeting in just a few minutes. D-day, as far as the layoffs were concerned. The executive team planned to make a decision today, and from what she’d been hearing from the Urban Trax marketing director, things weren’t looking good.

She wondered if Jason was nervous, and whether he’d planned a speech or just intended to wing it. Thinking of him made her feel like she’d swallowed a big lump of Play-Doh, so she settled for pouring herself a cup of jet-black coffee in a mug printed with a unicorn humping a dolphin.

A hand on her shoulder made her look up. Holly stood there studying her, concern etched across her pretty features. “You doing okay?”

Miriam nodded and took a sip of coffee. “Yeah.”

“The Urban Trax meeting starts in just a few minutes,” Holly said. “I guess their whole executive team will be there.”

“Yeah,” Miriam said again, and wondered why someone who made her living as a branding expert couldn’t come up with a better word. Some marketing consultant she was.

Like that’s the only thing you failed at.

“I’m sure the meeting will go fine,” Holly said. “Our contract with Urban Trax is solid, even if the parameters of our work might change. Their overall spend may not be as high, but we have plenty of other clients. We’ll be fine.”

“Right,” Miriam said, though she hadn’t been thinking about the contract. She’d been thinking about Jason’s self-blame, the way he shouldered the burden of everyone else’s happiness and health.

Damn him anyway.

“He’s a good guy.” Holly leaned against the counter beside her. “Jason, I mean. Overprotective bullshit aside, I’ve gotta hand it to him. He sure made a difference in you.”

Miriam frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He got you to stop being such a fraidy-cat.”

“A fraidy-cat?” Miriam rolled her eyes. “What are you, a third-grade teacher?”

Holly smiled. “I am incubating your godchild. Maybe it’s bringing out my inner mommy.”

Miriam sighed. “I’m not a fraidy-cat.”

Great. Now
she
sounded like a third-grader.

“You’re right, you aren’t anymore. Not after Jason got his hands on you. He got you playing outside and experiencing the world and throwing yourself headfirst into love again. That’s pretty damn brave.”

“Yeah, and look how well that turned out.”

Still, Holly did have a point. Miriam had spent the last year holed up in her grief, cursing the mountains and rivers and adrenaline highs that had taken her father away. But being with Jason had made her realize something. All that stupid daredevilry and adventure her father had chased like his life depended on it—well, maybe his life
had
depended on it. Maybe that’s what made him feel excited and connected and happy to be alive.

Miriam had certainly felt it these last few weeks. Being outside, breathing fresh air, and feeling the flex of her own muscles, she’d felt closer to her dad than she had since he’d died.

Even if she didn’t have Jason, she still had that.

“Look, hon,” Holly said, resting a hand on her arm. “Maybe it’s not over just yet. With Jason, I mean.”

“It’s over,” Miriam muttered, and wished that weren’t true. But he’d had two weeks to change his mind, to call her up and tell her he’d made a mistake. That there was room enough in his life and his heart for more than just his family.

“Here’s the thing,” Holly said. “Sometimes you’ve just gotta let guys figure things out for themselves. To take a few steps back and realize how shitty their lives are without you.”

“And what if he doesn’t?” Miriam said, hating how small and sad her voice sounded.

Holly gave her a gentle smile and put an arm around her shoulders. “Well then. You’ve turned into quite the outdoorsy bitch. I hear you’re pretty good with a paddle. We might just have to beat the man to death.”

Miriam laughed in spite of herself, not feeling too comforted, but not feeling a whole lot worse, either.

Chapter Fifteen

“We’re all looking at the same numbers here,” Rex Rutherford grumbled, frowning down at the paperwork in front of them. “As the accounting director for Urban Trax, I think I speak for all of us when I say we’ve got to make a tough call here and trim a little fat.”

Jason stared at the guy, not imagining any context in which Rex Rutherford would speak for him. The man prattled on, and Jason forced himself to let the jerk finish. It was the polite thing to do. The professional thing. Still, he couldn’t help wondering what Rex’s face would look like if someone slammed his necktie in a car door, revved the engine, and dragged him down the street.

Jason glanced down at the red First Impressions notebook he’d been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. He’d jotted copious notes in countless meetings, but the one he kept coming back to was the first line he’d written when Miriam gave him the notepad in the first place.

Figure out how to beat corporate assholes at their own game.

He looked up as the door to the conference room swung open and a waiter filed through pushing a bell cart. Across the boardroom table, the chairman gave a nod of approval. “I hope you all don’t mind,” Jack Wainswright said as he gestured the waiter to begin serving, “but since we’re already running an hour over schedule, I took the liberty of ordering lunch for us.”

As the executives pushed aside laptops and spreadsheets, the waiter replaced them with napkins and plates topped with artistic-looking mounds of watercress. Jason watched as the young man set a dinner plate in front of him and pulled off the silver cloche with a flourish. How much had this meal cost? And when the hell had words like “watercress” and “cloche” entered his vocabulary?

You know damn well when.

He spread his napkin across his lap and watched for the board chairman to pick up his salad fork before following suit. The greens were delicious, tender and flavorful with a delicate vinaigrette, but the whole thing tasted sour in the back of his throat.

“As I was saying,” Rex continued, stabbing into his own salad with more force than necessary. “These layoffs are unfortunate, but a bit of collateral damage is just part of doing business.”

Jack Wainswright finished chewing his salad and sighed. “It does seem like the layoffs might be the simplest way to go.” The chairman looked pained, and it was clear he didn’t take the decision as lightly as Rex did.

The COO nodded and looked grim, or did a half-assed impression of a guy trying to look grim. It was tough to tell as he chewed his bite of pecan-crusted salmon in a lemon dill sauce. “It’s about being fiscally responsible,” Darrin Johnson added as he forked up another piece of salmon. “Cutting the dead weight, so to speak.”

Jason stared at them as rage pooled hot and acidic in his gut. Okay, it might be more than rage. It was rage mixed with heartache mixed with an overall disgust with corporate culture mixed with maybe a little more heartache. There was probably some watercress in there, too, but clearly he wasn’t upset about the watercress.

“Well,” Jack said, “if no one has anything else to add, I think we should go to a vote and—”

“Actually, I have something to add.”

Jason set his fork down, even though he wasn’t aware he’d made up his mind to speak. But everyone was staring at him now, and as he straightened the lapels of his jacket, it occurred to him he had a helluva lot to say. “This is bullshit.”

Jack blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

Be professional,
Jason reminded himself.
Beat them at their own fucking game. Miriam showed you how to do that.

Jason cleared his throat and tried again, careful to keep his elbows off the table and his napkin balanced on his lap. “Do you realize that in the last fifteen minutes, you’ve referred to our employees as ‘dead weight,’ as ‘fat’ that needs to be trimmed, and my personal favorite, ‘collateral damage’?” He put air quotes around the word, hoping to convey his disdain for the terms. He looked around the room and saw the entire board staring at him.

Several appeared to be considering whether he’d gone off the deep end, but most looked curious. Guarded, but curious.

Good.

They’d hired him to be the goddamn CEO, so it was time they got a taste of how he really ran a business. How he
wanted
to run this one. An image flashed in his brain, all those employees showing up tomorrow and learning they wouldn’t have jobs next month. That they couldn’t buy birthday gifts or health insurance or groceries for their kids. He couldn’t imagine.

“How about instead of referring to them like some sort of burden, we think of our employees as human beings,” Jason said carefully. “As valuable assets. We have an exceptionally trained workforce here at Urban Trax, and it’s about time we start appreciating that. Do you have any idea how expensive it is to retrain new workers when you’ve fired your existing ones?” He looked around the room, daring someone to answer. “Eight times as much as it costs to just take care of the ones you already have. It’s a piss-poor—it’s a
poor
business decision is what it is.”

They were all still staring at him, but he was seeing more thoughtful looks. More looks of respect. He tried to remember if he’d ever seen that outside the ski slopes and bike trails. It felt really fucking good to see it in the boardroom.

Miriam showed you how to do this. Keep going.

The thought of Miriam was like a shot of adrenaline, so Jason spoke again, buoyed by the encouraging glances he saw from a few members of the executive team.

“Take Susan Fletcher in product development,” he said, letting his gaze travel around the room from executive to executive, starched suit to stiff blouse. “Did you know that in addition to helping us manufacture bicycle parts for the last fourteen years, Susan also volunteers with Pacific Northwest Trail Development to help build mountain bike trails around the region? Or how about Ted Salport? He’s the manager in our customer service department, but in his free time, he works with the ski patrol team at Mount Hood, looking out for the folks who go hurling themselves off mountaintops using our gear. You want to talk about living our brand? That’s it right there.”

In one corner of the room, the marketing director set down his own fork and cleared his throat. “It’s actually a pretty good PR opportunity,” Pete murmured, almost as though he didn’t expect anyone to hear.

But Jason heard, and he was damn glad to have someone else in his corner. “That’s right,” he said, making Pete blink with surprise. “That’s it exactly. Urban Trax should be rewarding employees, not terminating them. They’re out there on the front line being ambassadors for our products. We
need
them, probably more than they need us.”

Jack Wainswright cleared his throat and pushed aside his salad. “That’s all well and good, Jason, but how are we going to afford it?”

“You could start by cutting my pay.”

A ripple of gasps went around the room like the soundtrack to some weird horror movie. He hadn’t realized he was going to say it until the words were out of his mouth, but now that they were, he saw the solution.

“As a matter of fact, I propose we cut the pay of every member of the executive team.” He turned to the HR director seated beside him, a severe-looking brunette who ran ultramarathons in her free time. “Kelly, how much did Urban Trax give out in performance bonuses for administrators last quarter?”

“I can find out.” She grabbed her laptop from the counter behind them and pushed aside her plate. Tapping a few buttons on her keyboard, she pulled up a spreadsheet. Her brow was furrowed, but she looked determined. Maybe even a little hopeful.

As she turned the monitor to face him, Jason leaned down to look at the figures. “Holy shit,” he said. “Are you kidding me? You want to talk about trimming the fat, here’s where you start.”

Rex frowned. “Jason, let’s be realistic here. To run a major international company, you need a strong executive team that’s compensated commensurate with market value.”

“And you also need loyal employees who know someone has their back,” Jason retorted. “We need people who are out there living our corporate values instead of cramming their faces with gourmet meals.”

Jack Wainswright shifted a little in his seat, and he looked embarrassed as he glanced down at the table. Hell, maybe it wasn’t a good idea to piss off the host who’d fed him some damn fine meals in the last couple of weeks, but it was true. Something needed to be said.

“Not that this isn’t a nice treat, Jack,” Jason added, finishing off his last bite of salad in illustration. “But a brown-bag lunch or a can of beans never killed anyone.”

“You make a good point, son.”

The execs on the other side of Kelly had started to murmur quietly among themselves, glancing at figures on her laptop screen and jotting numbers on their notepads. They looked determined. They looked hopeful. They looked gritty. They looked like motherfucking Urban Trax employees ought to look.

Jason let his gaze travel around the room, making eye contact with everyone before he spoke again. “Urban Trax is about passion. Commitment. Dedication. Safety. We owe that to our customers, and we owe that to our employees.”

The words hung there above the table for a moment. No one said anything. No one was eating anymore, but most of them looked thoughtful. Rex Rutherford wasn’t making eye contact, but Jack Wainswright was. So were Donna Savage and Saul Frost and Bob Dunn and Pete Marshall and Jenny North and a whole bunch of other execs Jason had gotten to know over these last few weeks.

They were all starting to smile.

Jason set down his salad fork and reached for his dinner fork, really fucking grateful to know the difference. Not just in silverware, either. He knew the difference between owning a business and being a leader. Miriam had taught him that.

Among other things.

“I’ve said my piece,” he said, looking across the table to meet Jack Wainswright’s eye. “Now it’s up to you. Who’s ready to vote?”

…

“Jason, wait up!”

He turned to see Pete Marshall chasing him down the hall. The young marketing director was breathless and a little frazzled, but he was grinning like he’d just scored the game-winning touchdown.

Jason could relate.

“Nice work in there,” Pete said as he straightened his tie. “I still can’t believe you got them all to give up their bonuses.”

“I can’t, either,” Jason said, pretty sure he wasn’t supposed to admit that. “But it was the right thing to do.”

“It’ll make for good PR. I can have the First Impressions team leak it out there to the press, how Urban Trax is looking out for its employees.”

“Maybe,” he said as his brain flashed on an image of Miriam. “That’s not why we did it, though.”

“Of course not. But the PR won’t hurt. Sorta like when REI made headlines for giving all their employees the day off on Black Friday.”

“Sure. Why don’t you run it by the First Impressions team? See what they think about it. They’d know better than we would about the pros and cons from the PR side of things.”

“I will,” Pete said. “I’ve been in touch with them a few times over the last week. That idea I brought up in the meeting—the one about employee testimonials? That was all Miriam.”

“Miriam,” Jason said, and the sound of her name sent a pang of longing through him. It didn’t surprise him she’d had the idea. She was smart. And passionate. And funny. And successful. And sexy as hell.

But she was more than that.

Or rather,
he
was more because of her.

Miriam didn’t make him less able to look out for other people. Hell, she made him more of a man. The kind of man who’d spent the last two weeks getting to know the employees of his company. The kind of man who might struggle a little to balance career and family and taking care of all the people he loved, but who was damn determined to do it anyway.

Jesus. What the hell had he been thinking breaking things off with her?

“I’m an idiot.”

“Sir?”

He blinked at Pete. “Uh, sorry. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

But he did need to say something out loud.
I’m sorry
, for starters.
I fucked up,
for another. Maybe there was still a way to show Miriam they belonged together. That he could be the kind of guy she deserved.

“Sir, where are you going?” Pete called as Jason began walking toward the door. Walking—hell, he was running, flat-out sprinting if you wanted to get technical.

Being in shape had its advantages.

“I’m not done fixing things today,” he called as he hurled himself against the door. “There’s still one more thing to do.”