Alex’s startling gaze narrowed and he looked up. His expression relayed complete concern as he watched her. “Did something happen?” he asked.
Topaz smiled, tucking a glossy lock behind her ear. “Nothing like that. I don’t need you to rescue me again,” she said, watching him return his attention to the mail, “and you don’t need to be rescued by me either.”
Alex looked up again, his pretense at shuffling through mail effectively stifled by her comment. This time, his expression was both inquisitive ... and guarded.
Topaz cleared her throat, determined to say her piece quickly and get out of that office.
“It’s so obvious that you’re pulling away ... again. If you can’t see that—you have to see that.”
“Topaz—”
“Alex, just let me say this please.” She kept her eyes downcast as she spoke. “I have no hope of getting through to you this time and I don’t want to.”
Alex blinked, obviously surprised by her candor. He set the mail aside, then rounded the desk in a slow, uncertain manner.
“Time and time again, I’ve urged you to talk to me—to be honest about what you were going through. But you chose to silently go through this hell on your own.”
“Topaz.”
“Don’t,” she softly commanded, stepping back when he made a move to approach her. “Alex, I understand. I know that it’s impossible for you to open up just like that when you’ve been handling this for so long on your own. I mean, it’s one thing to open up to your therapist, who’s also your boy and an old friend, it’s another thing to bare your soul to a woman you’ve known just short of a year.”
“Stop this, Topaz. I love you,” he swore.
She responded with a sad smile and slow nod. “I believe you. I love you too. I love you enough to let you go and do what you need to, to handle this—to try and live with what eats away at you and prevents your love from being all that it can be.”
Alex began to shake his head as she spoke. He could barely hear a thing once his heart began to pound like a bass drum in his ears. “What are you saying to me?” his deep voice grated. Leaving his place next to the desk, he made a move toward her.
Topaz stepped away and folded her arms across her chest. “I think we should break the engagement.”
Alex’s gaze narrowed, his expression one of hurt disbelief. “You’re leaving me?”
Topaz could feel tears pressuring her eyes, causing her head to ache. “You’ve already left me.”
“Topaz—”
“So many times you’ve left me and I’ve always bullied you back, pleaded and begged with you to let me help you when you were telling me how much you needed to do this alone.”
“I don’t want to let you go.”
“But you know you have to.”
Alex couldn’t look at her then. He turned away, rubbing one hand against his denim shirt in an effort to quell the pain in his chest. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, shocked to find moisture wetting his fingertips when he pulled them away from his eyes. Yes, he did know he had to let her go—he’d always known it. After all, it was the reason he’d acted so coldly in New York. Hadn’t he wanted her to move on and not waste any more time with him?
Still, he wanted to believe she could save him and he had no doubt about her conviction. But yes, he had to do this on his own—by himself. Not for Topaz or the possibility of a life with her, but for the possibility of finding the peace within his own life.
Topaz had stepped over to the desk. She rubbed her engagement ring between her thumb and forefinger. Then she set the gorgeous pear-shaped diamond on the polished oak desktop. Her intentions to turn and walk away were thwarted when Alex caught her wrist. One massive hand cupped her neck, his thumb pushing her chin up as he took her mouth in a deep kiss. Lust, passion, love, and immense need were woven into the devastating act. Alex thrust his tongue repeatedly and more deeply with every stroke.
Topaz kissed him back even as tears puddled in her eyes and spilled onto her cheeks. Alex ended the kiss to catch the salty moisture with his lips. Topaz cried out softly when she realized he was kissing her tears away. Summoning her strength to pull out of his powerful embrace, she brushed her lips across his jaw and left the room.
SEVENTEEN
“This gang page was supposed to consist of over seventy-five ads. What happened?”
The spacious, fifth-floor advertising level was virtually silent. Only the soothing hum of the computers and vending machines down the hall lent any noise. Still, the group of thirty salesmen and women, who composed the classified advertising team of the Queen City Happening, were rattled. The group began to exchange uneasy looks once the question was posed.
“Well?” Alex persisted, watching one Gortex-booted foot swing back and forth as he perched on the edge of a desk. “What happened, Charles?” he asked the classified advertising manager.
Charles Black massaged the bridge of his nose while shaking his head. “Several of our advertisers canceled their spots,” he replied in an uneasy tone, sounding as though he felt Alex already had the answer.
“And why would they do that?” Alex continued to probe, his voice retaining its normal level of calm.
Charles shrugged. “It was nothing personal, Alex. The market is still fickle, though, lots of businesses are still laying off—”
“Charles, tell me something I don’t know,” Alex interrupted, his voice never rising. “These cancelations tell me that these were weak sales,” he surmised.
“And there I’d have to disagree with you,” Charles retorted, his own voice becoming more firm. “My team knows what I expect of them. I have always stressed the importance of confirming any sale at least three times during the initial pitch. After the first conversation, my people follow up with calls to approve copy, layout, et cetera. There’re no fluke sales here.”
“And you expect me to accept that over twenty advertisers back out? Just like that? Just days before the final approval?”
Charles nodded. “It happens,” he pointedly announced, doing an admirable job of masking his true frustration.
Alex responded with a cold smile. “I see.”
“My team does a top job and I’ll stand behind them,” Charles decided, his hazel stare anger-filled.
Alex’s smile widened. He glanced down at his agenda before looking out at the group. “Well, Charles, that’s great and I’m glad you feel so strongly. That way, you won’t mind too much standing behind your team in the unemployment line.”
A hush blanketed the room and it almost seemed as though the machinery had gone a bit softer. Eyes were wide as the advertising staff watched their publisher leave his position on the edge of the desk.
