“Of course not,” he said. “I’m offering you my resignation.”
Nelson’s jaw-well, it didn’t drop, but its usual grim clamp got looser. “You’re overreacting. Pull it together, Hayes. We have work to do.”
“No, Nelson. What we have here is a lose-lose situation. You told me before that if I didn’t complete this acquisition, you’d be forced to give me my walking papers. If you send me out of here with these terms, I’ll lose the deal. So whether I resign now or you fire me tomorrow, I’m still out of a job.” It wouldn’t take long to compose a resignation letter and send it. “I prefer to leave on my own terms. I’ll have an official letter on your desk in half an hour, and I’ll take the two weeks’ vacation I have coming in lieu of notice.”
“You’re making a mistake,” Nelson warned. “You can’t leave this deal half-baked. Who’s going to go down there and finish it?”
Mitch looked into the camera, knowing his face must look as grave as Nelson’s did on the screen. “Someone who doesn’t give a rat’s ass about Eve and her people, that’s who.”
18
EVE COULDN’T HAVE moved out of the studio doorway if the building had been burning down.
She watched as Mitch closed his laptop and put it in his briefcase. He nodded his thanks to the technician in the control booth, and the video screen went dark.
And then he turned toward the door and saw her.
Their gazes collided, and it seemed to Eve that a silent explosion happened right there in the middle of the room. How could she bear the pain in that gaze? And how could she put into words this maelstrom of emotion whirling inside her as she realized what he’d just done?
He’d thrown away his career for her.
The enormity of it staggered her. Humbled her. And showed her the depth of her own feelings for him. Instead of reaching out hesitantly, throwing out hints and signals the way she’d been doing, he’d gambled his whole future in one grand act for her sake. Could she really have underestimated him that much? How blind could she be?
“How long have you been standing there?”
Eve leaned on the door and the On Air light went out as the technician exited the back of the booth and moved on to his next task. They were alone-and the studio was soundproof.
“A few minutes. I slipped in when you were running the financials.”
“So you heard Nelson Berg.”
“And I heard you. Oh, Mitch, you don’t have to do this.” Her voice trembled, and she swallowed.
“What else could I have done? They had me between a rock and a hard place. Either way, I would lose-because I know damn well you aren’t going to New York. Or am I wrong?”
Why was he still standing there behind the desk? Why wasn’t he pulling her into his arms? “No, you aren’t wrong. In fact, you’re amazingly right.” Maybe he only had one grand gesture in him. Maybe it was up to her to take this the rest of the way. Eve gathered her courage and circled the desk.
“Right for the show, and right for me,” she said softly. “When I heard you say that, I-”
“Eve, ten minutes,” Cole said in her ear. “Guest’s in the green room waiting for you.”
Ten minutes that could change her life.
She reached out to lay a hand on Mitch’s sleeve, but he picked up his briefcase instead. “Mitch, don’t go. I want to talk to you, but I just got my ten-minute call.”
“I’m unemployed. I have all the time in the world.”
His voice was hollow. What did he expect from her? She had to say something, quick.
“I appreciate that you’d do such a thing for my sake. I know what it must have cost you. And I want you to know that it-it just makes me love you all the more.”
“What?”
“I mean it. But I’ve got to go. Please don’t leave. Meet me in my office after the show. Promise.”
What did that look in his eyes mean? Pain, wonder, confusion. Oh God, why did this have to happen seven minutes before showtime? Why did he look like that?
If it were up to her, she’d stay right here in this studio and show him exactly what she meant-preferably horizontally on the news desk. But the two hundred and fifty people in Studio One would probably stage a riot.
Briefcase nothwithstanding, she grabbed him by his lapels and planted a kiss on his mouth as full of promise as she could make it. “In my office,” she repeated, and ran.
With no time to process what had just happened, she thought she’d make a complete hash of the show, but instead, she found herself drawn right into the topic: the chemistry of love. Nicole had produced a researcher from the local university, and the man was only too happy to explain his life’s work to her. And in view of the last half hour, it was illuminating.
“It’s a well-known fact that job loss is one of the greatest contributors to male depression,” the guy said. “But what we’ve discovered is that rejection-which is what losing a job really is, right?-causes the production of testosterone in a man’s body to drop. That’s what leads to depression, withdrawal and loss of self-esteem.”
“So what can he do to come out of it?” Eve leaned in to ask. Was this a sign from heaven, or what? Bless Nicole. She was getting a raise for this.
“Well, he can go down to the gym and shoot some baskets,” the researcher said, “or he can make love to his wife.”
“Hear that, ladies?” Eve asked the audience. “If any of you have unemployed partners out there, your duty to his testosterone is clear.”
The audience cracked up, and she finished with her monologue, feeling as though a lightbulb had gone off in her head. She couldn’t do anything about Mitch’s decision to end it with CWB, but by God, she could help him through what had to be the most stressful afternoon of his life.
Boy, could she help. He’d already said he had plans for her desk, hadn’t he?
She sprinted up the stairs and arrived in her office breathing fast with anticipation. Would he be there? He had to be. He couldn’t have gone off to his cave at a moment like this, not when she had the cure for what ailed him-
“Eve?”
He turned from the window when she burst in. “Oh, thank God. I was convinced you’d be on that plane.”
“I should be. I need to start networking. Putting out feelers. Talking to people. You know the drill.”
He sounded so distant. But she wouldn’t let him get away with it. Not with your testosterone levels circling the drain. Have I got a cure for you. The marvels of modern-and very ancient-chemistry.
“I have a better idea.” She wrapped her arms around him and pressed up against his back. “Seems to me you made some rash promises about my desk. Want me to lock the door?”
He chuckled and turned, and his arms went around her. This was more like it. “Believe me when I say I’d like nothing better-if I can take a rain check. You understand, don’t you? I’m shell-shocked right now. My brain is zooming at top speed-only it’s going in circles.”
“Mine is, too,” she said against the soft wool of his suit jacket. “But you’re in the middle. I meant what I said down there in the studio, Mitch. About-” Do it. Dive right in, like he did. “-about loving you. I want to make sure that, at least, is clear between us.”
He drew back to look into her eyes. “How can you love an unemployed failure? A woman like you-beautiful, the one everyone wants? The self-made woman who pulled herself up from tragedy to be a celebrity? Trust me, Eve, you have a whole world of choices out there. You don’t need to settle for what’s at hand.”
Loss of self-esteem. She was going to have to invite that researcher back. The man was a gold mine.
“You’ve been reading too many headlines. A woman would be crazy not to grab a guy who would sacrifice himself and his career to protect her happiness. And believe me, I ain’t crazy.”