Strictly for Now by Carrie Elks

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

MACKENZIE

Going viral isn’t what it used to be, thank God. Within a couple of days Eli and Isabella’s kiss – and his subsequent fight with Danny Hart – is just an already-stale TikTok, replaced by the latest gossip du jour. We don’t get a call from Jimmy Kimmel. No hashtags trend.

My name is barely mentioned anywhere.

Isabella also makes it clear there’s nothing between her and Eli when she does a Dirty Dancing routine with Justin and the two of them kiss heavily afterward. I have a feeling she did it on purpose to take the heat off of me, which is kind of sweet.

And so life goes on and our own lives return to normal within a matter of days.

And I have to fly back to New York to face the music. Or rather we do, because Eli is sitting by my side on the airplane, holding my hand, telling me it’ll be okay. That I’ll keep my job.

I feel strangely calm as we walk through the arrivals terminal, where his brother Holden, is waiting for us. I already like him a lot. He’s the quiet one of the family. Last week when they all came back to Gramps’ place after we left the stadium – don’t ask – I got to spend more time with all of Eli’s family and I think I’m in love with them.

My younger brothers and his had a blast trash talking us all. And Myles and Liam gave me some good advice for when I talk to my boss about having a relationship with a client.

They even offered me a job if I end up getting fired.

But Holden, he’s different. He watches and listens. When he talks, it’s because he has something important to say. Maybe that’s what makes him a good doctor.

“You sure you want to head straight for the office?” Holden asks as he drives us into the city. I’m impressed by his patience when a car honks loudly because he’s stopped at a red light. I hate driving in Manhattan. I rarely do it.

But he doesn’t seem to give a damn.

“Yes, please. I have to meet my boss at twelve.”

Eli squeezes my hand. “I can come in with you.”

I shake my head. “You two go ahead and do… whatever it is you’ve got to do. I’ll call you once I’m done.” And by then I’ll either be packing my desk up or… I don’t know. What will I be doing? I’m not sure.

It’s been months since I’ve walked into Warner Power’s lobby, and everything feels completely alien. It’s too clean, too bright. People don’t shout at each other. It’s like the place has no soul.

Or maybe it was sold to the devil.

I press my security pass onto the electronic reader, waiting for the metal waist-high gate to swing open, but instead a red light appears. My stomach twists, because if they’re firing me this is a hell of a way to find out.

The security guard walks over and checks my pass. “When were you last here?” he asks.

“A few months ago.”

“That explains it. We had a reset last month. Been catching all the consultants by surprise. You guys barely come in here, do you?”

“If we’re not with a client we’re not earning,” I say, repeating the mantra that’s been beaten into me since day one of working for Warner Power.

“Billable hours.” He nods. “Saw all about that on a TV series. Suits was it?” He takes my pass and walks over to the little waist heigh desk with a computer on it, next to the gate. “People working all the hours God sends and still panicking that they’re not earning enough. When does it stop?” He presses my card against a reader and types something into the laptop. “Nobody gets to stand and smell the roses anymore, do they?”

“What are roses?” I ask and he laughs, passing me back the card.

“It should work now. Have a nice day.”

Carmine is at the front desk when I walk out of the elevator and into our offices. “Miss Hunter,” he says, smiling.

“Hi Carmine. How’s it going?”

“Good as always.” He glances down at his laptop. “Mr. Power has asked that you go straight to his office.”

I take a deep breath. “Okay.” If they fire me it’ll be Carmine who has to escort me out of the building. I’ve seen him do it before, his thick muscled arms carrying boxes of personal belongings as the poor person who’s just lost their job trails behind him in tears.

I can’t even remember what’s in my desk anymore. Probably a change of pantyhose because those damn things always run. And a few cereal bars for the days when I don’t have time to eat lunch. I think there might be a pair of sneakers under my desk, put there years ago when I had the great idea of going for a walk every lunchtime to get some exercise.

I used them exactly once.

When I reach Mr. Power’s office his assistant nods me in, and I take a deep breath before I knock at his door.

“Come in.”

I do as I’m told, pushing it open to find Kenneth Power and my boss, Mark, sitting at his desk. They both look up at me as I walk inside.

“Um, hi.” I attempt a smile. I just want this over with. I know I messed up, and could have caused so many problems.

But really, I didn’t. I just didn’t.

“Mackenzie,” Mr. Power says. “Take a seat.”

I slide into the empty chair next to Mark. He lifts his brows at me but says nothing. Some things don’t change. He’s still talking with his eyebrows.

“So,” Mr. Power says, steepling his fingers as he leans his elbows on his desk. “I guess we have some things to talk about.”

I shift in my seat. “I guess we do. And I’m extremely sorry if I brought the company into disrepute.”

Mark’s brows knit. “Disrepute?”

I swallow. “By having a relationship with a client. I’m sorry. I know it’s unprofessional.” A firing offense. “I didn’t mean to cause any issues.”

“What are you talking about?” Mr. Power asks.

“The press conference.”

He and Mark exchange glances. “Where you talked about what happened years ago?”

I nod. “And that I’m in a relationship with Eli Salinger. The head coach of the Mavericks.”

“But he’s not our client,” Mark says, glancing at Kenneth Power again. “Your grandfather is.”

“I told Mark about your relationship to the team,” Mr. Power says. “I figured since it’s open knowledge now that would be okay.”

“Of course.” I nod. “So I completely understand if you need me to leave. All I’d ask is that you let me resign instead of firing me. It’ll look better on my résumé.” And that really isn’t a lot to ask. I’ve worked my ass off for this company. Yes, I broke their rules and made them look bad, but surely they could do this one thing.

I need to work to survive, after all.

“I’m sorry, what?” Mark shakes his head. For once his brows stay still. “You think we’re firing you?”

Mr. Power starts to laugh. “What is this, the dark ages? Why would we fire you for being in a relationship?”

“Um, isn’t it in my contract? No fraternizing with clients?”

“Well, yes,” Mr. Power concedes. “But that’s to protect us. And it’s good etiquette for the most part. But we’re not inflexible. If staff members become involved with somebody who works in a client’s location and they come and talk to us about it, we’re amenable to talking about it.”

“The hours we all work, if you don’t date somebody in the same office, you’re never going to date,” Mark adds. “My wife used to work here.”

“I was going to talk to you about it,” I tell Mr. Power. “Once the exhibition game was over. Things just went a bit awry.”

Mark smiles at me. “I know you would have. You’re a professional. That’s not why we’ve asked you to come here.”

“It isn’t?” I’m still so confused. Thinking about how I won’t have to pack up those barely used sneakers.

“We want to give you a promotion,” Mr. Power says. “The one you worked so hard for.”

“A promotion?”

“The one we talked about when we last spoke,” he says, giving me a strange look. “Remember?”

“I remember.”

“I know we said it would be after the end of the project, and you’re not quite there yet, but I’ve spoken to Wayne and he’s amenable to releasing you early. We can send another consultant down to finish things off, while we put you at the head of your new team.”

“You’re going to be a partner, Mackenzie,” Mark says. “Congratulations.” He shakes my hand and I shake it back, but my head is spinning with thoughts.

I’ve always dreamed of a promotion. Becoming a partner at a firm like Warner Power means you’ve pretty much made it in life. Yes, I’ll be working harder than ever because now half my job would be schmoozing clients and finding new ones, but the rewards are huge.

And more than anything it’s the kudos that matters. It’s the equivalent of winning the Stanley Cup.

So why do I want to cry?

“When would I come back?”

“Next week. We have a big project we want you to bid on. You’ll need to build your team,” Mark says. “I’ll be sorry to lose you as part of mine.”

There’s ringing in my ears. Next week. I won’t even get to stay and see the Mavericks to the end of the season. I won’t have Goran bringing me coffee every morning. I won’t be eating hot dogs at intermission.

My stupid heart is aching.

“I…”

“Speak to Rina on the way out,” Mr. Power continues. “She’ll organize the concierge service to bring all your things home. She’ll also arrange for your new office.” He lifts a brow. “With a corner view.”

“They’re the best.” Mark grins.

I open my mouth to say something, but no words come out. I need to talk to Eli. I need to think about if this is really what I want to do.

And I can’t get my thoughts straight in here.

“Can I think about it?” I ask Mr. Power.

He exchanges glances with Mark. “Um, yes?”

“Thank you,” I say, pushing my chair away from the desk and standing.

I need to call Eli, but not from the office. There are too many ears, too many gossips. I rush for the elevator and punch the button, grabbing my phone as I step inside.

But of course there’s no signal. Stupid metal cages. And though there’s only one floor to go, it takes forever.

Long enough for me to envision a thousand scenarios. How is it that you can get everything you want and it still feels like you’re missing something?

The elevator pings and I step out into the lobby. I finally have cell service, so I punch at the call icon, and immediately I hear the ring.

But not on my phone. In the lobby. I look over at the bank of seats where visitors wait to be taken up for meetings and he’s there.

Eli’s legs are so long that his knees are hitting the coffee table in front of him. He’s staring at his phone, his hair mussed up, his Mavericks hoodie looking way too good on him.

He lifts the phone to his ear. “Hello?”

“I’m here.” I walk through the security gates and Eli looks around until his eyes alight on me.

And I crumple.

* * *

ELI

As soon as I see her face I want to hit somebody. Probably myself for getting her into this situation. She told me she loved her job, that she didn’t want to lose it. And I pushed and pushed because I wanted us to go public.

Then we did. Spectacularly.

I practically leap over the arm of the sofa to get to her, folding her in my arms.

“What are you doing here?” she asks, looking up at me. Her eyes look like a stormy afternoon.

“I told Holden to turn around. I couldn’t sit at his place while you were facing the music alone.” I stroke her hair with my palm. “I’m so sorry they fired you.”

She shakes her head. “No, that’s not it. Not why I’m upset.”

What could be worse than losing her job? I open my mouth to ask her exactly that and she continues.

“They offered me a promotion.”

My fingers curl into her hair. “What?” I don’t get it. Why’s she on the edge of tears about a promotion?

Hockey players have been known to spend weeks celebrating a win like that.

“They want me to be a partner,” she whispers.

A grin pulls at my lips. “That’s amazing, Mac. I’m so proud of you.” I tip her chin with my finger. “You deserve that.”

“But…” She inhales softly. “What about us?”

I’m still flailing around in the dark here. “What about us? We’ll go celebrate tonight. But don’t you want to see your friends right now? Tell them the good news? You couldn’t have been up in the offices for more than ten minutes.”

“I needed to see you.”

A little bit of my heart explodes. This woman never needs anything.

But she needs me now. And I’m here for her. Always.

“Go up and see them. I’ll stay here and wait. I’ve found this Instagram account with cats.”

“What?”

I wink at her. “They do tricks. I got a full day of entertainment if I need it.” I pat my ass. “I’ve even brought my charger.”

“But we need to talk,” she says.

“Okay…” I tip my head to the side. “What about?”

“Us. If I take the promotion, I have to move back to New York. Next week.” Her eyes catch mine again and for a minute I’m lost in them. I still can’t work out why she’s so freaked out. “We’ve only just found each other.”

And then it dawns on me. She’s scared. The woman who insisted that we were just for now is scared that her words will come true.

“If you take the promotion?” I repeat. “Don’t you mean when?”

She swallows. “Not if it means losing you.”

Fireworks go off inside of me. And I start to laugh. It’s partly relief and partly disbelief because she needs to get to know me better. She needs to understand that I’ve waited my whole life for her.

A few hundred miles aren’t going to be a problem.

I cup her face with my hands, still grinning.

“What’s so funny?” she asks.

“You, mostly.” I shake my head. “You think you can scare me off with a promotion and a move?”

“I…”

“You can’t,” I tell her. “There are planes. There are cars. There’s a whole summer when I get a break and I’m sure you have PTO, too. There are weekends and holidays and there’s the rest of our damn lives to work this out.” I brush my lips against hers. “Because we will work it out. I’ll give up hockey if I have to, become your sex slave.”

Her lips twitch. “What does that involve, exactly?”

“I’ll show you later,” I promise. “We’ll call it an audition. But I’m serious, Mac. This is good news.”

“I heard you were in the building,” a female voice calls out. I look over at a woman wearing a severe black dress and even more severe lipstick. “Oh,” she says, seeing my arms around Mackenzie. “Ooooooohhhhhhh.” This one has at least five syllables.

Mac smiles. “Rachel.” She beckons her over. “This is Eli. Eli, this is Rachel. My best friend.”

“You’re the hockey player,” Rachel says, eyeing my hoodie. “The second best looking Maverick.”

“Second?” I ask, because at heart I’m a competitive motherfucker.

“The Swede is my first,” she says. “I have a thing for cheekbones and coffee.” She folds her arms in front of her chest. “So what’s going on? Everybody’s saying you got fired.”

“She got a promotion,” Eli says.

“Of course she did.” Rachel sighs. “It explains everything.”

“It does?” Mackenzie asks.

“Yep. You hate happily ever afters. Remember when we went to see that reshowing of Titanic.” She looks at me, and I smile because we have something in common. We both love this woman.

“You got into a mood because Leo died,” Mackenzie says. “You wanted to hunt down James Cameron and egg his house, despite the fact we’re both grown women, the movie was made thirty years ago, and we both know they wouldn’t have fit on that damn door.”

“They would have,” I interject helpfully.

“See.” Rachel throws up her hands. “There was a perfect way to get an HEA, but no. Miss Pessimistic here decided to pee in my cornflakes about it.”

“We’re not doing this again,” Mackenzie warns her friend. “Last time we discussed this you didn’t talk to me for two days.”

“I’m just saying that art needs to have happiness,” Rachel counters. “Or at least the hope of happiness. But you don’t like that. You’re more comfortable when everything goes wrong. Maybe you even like it. Happily ever afters are scary for you.”

“Maybe I just know that they’re not possible,” Mac says, but her heart isn’t in it. Her brows knit and she looks at me. I’m trying not to smile back at her because I’m enjoying their conversation too much.

“You’re going to be our maid of honor, right?” I ask Rachel.

“Absofuckinglutely.” She nods. “I want to be standing right next to her when she realizes how wrong she was.”

“Me, too.”

“I like him,” she tells Mac. “A lot.”

“Wait, what?” Mac says. “Maid of honor? We’re not getting married.”

“Not yet,” I say. “I’d kind of like us to be living in the same state first. But it’ll happen.” Weird thing, but I’ve never been more sure of anything. Maybe it’s getting older. Seeing one career finish and another one start. Or maybe it’s just her.

All I know is that I’m ready for this. And if she isn’t, I’ll wait patiently.

For as long as it takes. Forever.

“He loves you,” Rachel whispers.

“I do.” I nod.

“I love him, too,” Mackenzie tells her. “So much.”

Our eyes meet and we’re both grinning. It’s the first time we’ve said it and it wasn’t to each other.

We’ll sort that out later.

“Can you two kiss and get this happily ever after over with?” Rachel asks. “Then we can go up and tell everybody about your promotion, then we’ll all go down to the bar and get drunk.” She looks at me. “You’re invited.”

“I’m honored.”

“Don’t be. I just want you to introduce me to some of your hot hockey friends.” She waves her hand. “I’m going back to the office now, because your kiss is bound to be hot and I haven’t gotten laid in a year. I’m about half a second away from asking if I can join in.”

“You can’t,” Mackenzie and I say at the same time.

Rachel laughs and turns on her heel, leaving us alone. Save for the security guard, the people sitting at a table having coffee, and the steady stream of workers coming in and out of the lobby.

“Who’d be your best man?” Mackenzie asks, and I try not to laugh at the change of subject. “At our imaginary wedding where Rachel’s the maid of honor.”

“Holden,” I say, without a doubt in my mind.

“Why Holden? You have six brothers. Won’t the rest of them be upset?”

“I don’t think so. Holden’s my guy, that’s all.”

“That’s so sweet.” Mac smiles.

“You okay with him coming out tonight to join in your promotion celebrations?” I ask her.

“More than okay. I like him. Though he might find it intensely boring. Unless he’s a masochist.”

I cough out a laugh. She has no idea how close she is to being right. So close and yet so far away.

But that’s all for another day. Right now she’s smiling up at me and I’m grinning down at her, wondering how I got so lucky.

“Can I kiss you at work?” I ask her. “Or is that the kind of thing that gets you fired?”

Her nose wrinkles as she considers my question. “Actually, I have no idea,” she says. “Why don’t we find out.”

So we do.