“Hey, you,” she greeted me after buzzing me in, pushing to her feet.

“You look great.”

Her smile widened. “Thanks. How’d it go with Gideon’s sister?”

“Awesome. She’s a lot of fun. It makes me melt seeing Gideon with her.”

“He makes me melt, period. You lucky bitch. Anyway, I put a call through to your line earlier. They wanted to leave a message.”

I shifted on my feet, thinking of Brett. “Was it a guy?”

“No, a woman.”

“Hmm, I’ll go check it out, thanks.”

I headed back to my desk and got settled in, my gaze coming to rest on the collage of photos of Gideon and me. I still needed to talk to him about Crossroads. There hadn’t been a good time over the weekend. We’d had enough on our plates having Ireland over.

He hadn’t slept Saturday night. I’d hoped he would but hadn’t really expected him to. It was hard for me, thinking of his inner struggle, his worry and fear. He carried shame, too, and an inherent belief that he was broken. Damaged goods.

He didn’t see in himself what I saw—a generous soul who wanted so much to belong to something greater than himself. He didn’t recognize what a miracle he was. When he didn’t know what to do in a given situation, he let instinct and his heart take over. Despite all he’d been through, he had such an amazing capacity to feel and to love.

He’d saved me, in so many ways. I was going to do whatever needed to be done to save him, too.

—

I listened to my messages. When Mark came in, I stood, and met him with a grin and bouncing anticipation.

His brows rose. “What’s got you so excited?”

“A gal from LanCorp called this morning. They want to meet with us sometime this week to talk a bit more about what they’re hoping to achieve with the launch of the PhazeOne system.”

His dark eyes took on a familiar sparkle. He’d become a happier man overall since he and Steven had become engaged, but there was a whole different energy to him when he was eager about a new account. “You and me, kid, we’re going places.”

I hopped a little on my feet. “Yeah. You’ve got this. Once they meet with you in person, you’ll have them eating out of your hand.”

Mark laughed. “You’re good for my confidence.”

I winked at him. “I’m good for you, period.”

We spent the morning working on the PhazeOne RFP, putting together comps to better grasp how we might position the new gaming system against its competition. I had a momentary pause when I realized how much buzz surrounded the upcoming release of the next-generation GenTen console—which happened to be a product of Cross Industries, making it PhazeOne’s primary rival in the marketplace.

Pointing the situation out to Mark, I asked, “Is it going to be a problem? I mean, could LanCorp possibly see a conflict of interest with me working for you on this?”

He straightened in his chair, leaning back. He’d shucked his coat earlier but remained smartly attired in a white dress shirt, bright yellow tie, and navy slacks. “It shouldn’t be an issue, no. If our proposed positioning wins out over the other RFPs they’re collecting, the fact that you’re engaged to Gideon Cross isn’t going to make a damn bit of difference. They’re going to make their decision based on our ability to deliver their vision.”

I wanted to feel relieved, but I didn’t. If we were awarded the PhazeOne campaign, I’d be helping one of Gideon’s competitors steal some of his market share. That really bothered me. Gideon worked so hard and had overcome so much to lift the Cross name up from infamy to a level where it inspired awe, respect, and a healthy amount of fear. I never wanted to set him back, in anything.

I’d thought I would have a little more time before I was forced to make a choice. And I couldn’t help feeling like the choice to be made was between my independence and my love for my husband.

The dilemma niggled at me all morning, chipping away at the excitement I felt over the RFP. Then the hours crept toward noon and Brett took over my thoughts.

It was time to take responsibility for the mess I’d made. I had opened the door to Brett, and then I’d kept it open because I couldn’t get my head on straight. It was my job now to fix the problem before it impacted my marriage any more than it already had.

I headed down to the lobby at five minutes to noon, having asked permission from Mark to leave a little early. Brett was already waiting for me, standing near the entrance with his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. He wore a plain white T-shirt and sandals, with sunglasses propped atop his head.

My stride faltered a little. Not just because he was hot, which was undeniable, but because he looked so out of place in the Crossfire. When he’d met me here before the video launch in Times Square, we had rendezvoused outside. Now, he was in the building, occupying a spot too near to where I’d first run into Gideon.

The differences between the two men were stark and didn’t have anything to do with clothing or money.

Brett’s mouth curved when he saw me, his body straightening, shifting in that way men moved when their sexual interest was piqued. Other men, but not Gideon. When I’d first met my husband, his body, his voice, gave nothing away. Only his eyes had betrayed his attraction, and only for an instant.

It was later I realized what had happened in that moment.

Gideon had claimed me . . . and given himself to me in return. With a single look. He’d recognized me the moment he saw me. It took me longer to understand what we were to each other. What we were meant to be.