“He thinks I used him deliberately.” She gripped the phone, not sure what to do. “I mean, it looks bad, like they gave me the promotion because they saw that picture of me kissing him.” She turned to Lottie. “They wouldn’t really promote me just because I was seeing Jamie, would they?”
“Sweetheart, how are you this naïve?” Lottie asked gently, pushing Rachel’s hair behind her ear. “Of course they promoted you because of your relationship with him. I used to see it all the time when I worked in corporate. It’s all about connections in business, especially in public relations. If they think you can bring important people to the table, you’re in.” Lottie shook her head. “For cripe’s sake, Rachel, you work for a company called TMI. What did you expect?”
“I thought they’d see that I was good at what I did.”
Her grandma made a dismissive gesture. “Good employees are a dime a dozen. An employee who has a contact list of famous people is something else.”
“He thinks the worst of me. It sounded like he hates me.” She dropped her head in her hands. It felt like there was a crushing weight on her chest, because if he could believe this of her, she’d lost him.
Lottie put a finger beneath Rachel’s chin and lifted it. “What do you want, sweetheart?”
“I want Jamie,” she said clearly. She saw the fountain at work again and the man who’d followed her lead and dipped his toes in. “I want to do something that helps people expand, but not while hurting others. I want to be happy,” she added softly, thinking about the time she’d spent with Jamie in their apartment. The only word for it wasbliss.
Feeling that slip through her fingers, she wanted it bad.
She turned to Lottie. “I need to do something to fix all this. I have to change his mind.”
“That’s my girl.” Lottie chucked her under her chin. “I have faith in you. You just need to have more faith in yourself.”
She nodded though she didn’t really feel it right now. “Will you give me a word?”
“Why, sweetheart, don’t you know what your word is?” Lottie tipped her head, a smile on her lips. “It’s love.”
* * *
Rachel couldn’t sleep. She glanced at the clock. One in the morning.
It was going to be a LONG night.
She lay in her bed, staring at the ceiling, missing Jamie, missing their apartment, missing feeling wrapped up by him. He had a way of surrounding her when he slept that made her feel so peaceful.
This was worse than when she decided to leave Kevin. She’d felt upset then, but she’d also felt free. Now she felt crushed, a generous dash of panic on the side.
What was she going to do to fix this and convince Jamie he was right to trust her?
She sat up abruptly. She was a public relations expert. She was uniquely qualified to handle this situation.
She almost fell out of her bed in her haste to get up. She tiptoed downstairs to Lottie’s study where they’d set up a computer. Closing the door so she wouldn’t wake up her grandmother, she got to work.
By six in the morning, she was done.
She sat back, feeling both triumphant and trepidatious, because if this didn’t work, then all was lost. She printed out the pages, put them in a folder so they wouldn’t get wrinkled, and went back upstairs to get ready for her big day.
After a long shower, she carefully applied her makeup, taking the time to do a little more than she normally did. She looked at her usual work clothes and decided to wear a summer dress instead of the bland blouse and skirt combo she normally wore. The colors of the dress reminded her of how sunny she’d always felt in Jamie’s presence.
Thinking about him made the pit of her stomach twist. She was risking everything here, and she was scared that he wasn’t going to come back around. Frankly, she didn’t blame him. From his vantage point it looked very bad. She’d realized just how much around three o’clock in the morning.
But he loved her—she didn’t doubt that. She just had to get him to understand that she hadn’t orchestrated this deliberately.
The moment she opened the front door to leave, a bright flash blinded her. Scowling, she held her hand up to shield her eyes.
“Rachel Morgan! This way!”
Blinking, seeing spots, she gaped at the people on the sidewalk, on the other side of their gate. Paparazzi? Forher? There weren’t more than half a dozen people there, which was a relief. But—jeez—if she had this many to deal with, how many were camped out at Jamie’s?
She shook her head, gripping her things, feeling overwhelmed. She remembered Jamie saying he felt that way, and she felt a pang of empathy. No one should be pushed into feeling this way.
Straightening her spine, she put a hand out. “Stop,” she commanded.