Page 8 of Jacob

“Sorry.” I bow my head and fiddle with the hem of my dress. “I just, I’m… You make me nervous and I’m a wee bit embarrassed about what happened,” I mumble. “I’m confused about Saturday, and now there’s everything else.” I lift my head, my eyes connecting with his. “You. Us. High school.”

“High school? What the hell has that got to do with your resignation?” His brows dip low, causing his forehead to wrinkle.

“Nothing.”

And everything.

“I mean, I’ve probably got it all wrong. Just forget everything I said. Saturday… it was a lot. It’s got me all in a spin.”

“You’re not resigning. I won’t let you go.” He runs his bear-sized hand back and forth across his buzz cut.

His jaw tics a couple of times as he clenches it, as if holding in what hereallywants to say.

“Do you even have a job to go to, Skye?”

I shake my head.

He points to the shredded pieces of my resignation letter. “So why?”

“I’ve told you… because of Saturday. I’m sorry for what happened,” I whisper then bow my head again.

He lowers his voice to a gentle murmur that soothes my anxiety. “Skye. I’m sorry too. I was out of order the other night. You can sue me for sexual harassment.”

I scoff, lifting my eyes to meet his. “I would never do that.”

“But you can if you want to. I’m giving you permission. I seriously breached our employer contract. And as my employee, it’s my duty to make sure your well-being is taken care of.”

I’d like him to take care of me.

He pushes his hands into his pockets. “I messed up and I will not have you punish yourself for my behavior.”

He continues, “Blame me. Not yourself. I take full responsibility for my inappropriate actions the other evening. If I hadn’t asked you to…”

“Make myself come while I watched you with that girl in your office,” I blurt out.

He clenches his jaw harder this time, forcing his nostrils to flare while ignoring what I’ve said. “You have two choices. Sue me, I leave and you stay, or you accept my apology and stay. Whatever you choose, you are staying. End of story.”

“I would never raise a formal complaint against you. You’re my friend.” My eyes soften as I shake my head in disbelief at his suggestion.

“I’m yourboss.” His words drive a nail through my heart.

“Is that all you are to me?” I ask breathlessly.

Tilting his head back, he stares at the ceiling, before resting his hands on his hips and when he finally looks back at me, his green eyes are dancing with something I can’t explain. “Don’t,” he warns.

Disappointed he’s not taking the bait, I ask, “Can I go now?”

He nods then reaffirms our agreement. “Yes. But just so we’re clear. Forget what happened over the weekend. You are not resigning. Promotion is on the horizon for you, Skye. This place is your life. You love it here and you’re shit-hot at your job. I won’t let Saturday change that. Andrew is leaving. He’s moving to Edinburgh with his new wife, so you will slot straight into his position as creative director,” Jacob informs me.

“Director?” I repeat, stunned by the news.

“We have to interview you first as a formality, but it’s yours if you want it.”

“I want it,” I say far too quickly.

His familiar warm smile returns. “Then it’s yours. But please tell me I didn’t fuck this up.” Jacob motions to the space between us. “You’re staying, right?”

I can’t help the gigantic smile that breaks free from my lips, too. “Yes,” I confirm.

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