chapter 2

Samantha's heart raced, failing to let the words sink in. Greg Thornton's team: that in itself was enough to turn her stomach. She had been hoping that she would avoid him and any kind of contact, but in this, her hope was to be in vain.

Rachel went on, not noticing the growing nervousness in Samantha's voice. "Mr. Thornton is very much a hands-on man with these projects. First thing tomorrow, we're having a meeting with him to discuss the design in great detail. You need to prepare a presentation."

"Tomorrow?" Samantha echoed in a steadier voice, trying to keep it from shaking. "That's pretty short notice."

"Yes, tight doesn't even begin to describe the timetable. The client is pretty anxious to be up and running with these things," explained Rachel. "You're going to be great."

She managed a thin smile and a nod. "I'll be ready."

Her head buzzed with anxiety as she walked out of the office. Seeing Greg was the last thing on her agenda here. It had literally taken her years to hide from that part of her life, and somehow, it was about to barrel down upon her full tilt. She needed to face it with class and professionalism, but he was going to overwhelm her.

It was the longest drive, riding back home to the coastal town. Her mind wouldn't stop the whirlwind of 'what could have beens' and slight guilt. Greg's face, his touch, their last conversation, it all came flooding back in. The pit, the sickness in the pit of her stomach, all felt fresh—leaving him, fear of getting caught.

Then there were Lily and Emma, who would greet her with beaming faces. Samantha tried, really tried, to put her worries away and focus on them. They played; she read them stories; she tucked them in with a kiss. Again there was only pure silence in the living room, which she would sit in alone, and its weight would prepare her for the next day's ordeal.

'She continued to stay at work that night, trying to channel nervous energy into something productive. Some design idea sketches, some very compelling slides, were created, and through her pitch rehearsal, she took some time every now and then just to gaze at the picture of her family that sat on the mantle and remind herself why she would go through the painful process of confronting her fears in the service of a future that showed potential for being better.

Samantha rose early the next morning and clad herself consciously in a classy, professional ensemble: a navy dress with a high, modest neckline and matching heels. Examining herself in the mirror, she tried to rein in the rushing ideas. She must be composed and confident; she must not let Greg sense the turmoil within her.

She drove back into the city, every mile gradually making the skyline more normal-looking. The meeting was, after all, to be at a little past mid-morning so Samantha got there early, taking a few moments to get her thoughts together. She reviewed her presentation, took deep breaths, and reminded herself of a lifetime of skills and experience.

As she walked into the office, there was a whirlwind of movement: the receptionist set up a bright reception and moved her into a real slick floor-to-ceiling-window conference room, overlooking the city. Samantha set up, tucked-in, and prepared her materials, then she just waited. The room was truly immaculate, showing Ascend Design's high standards.

At the chiming tenth stroke, and the door opened, in walked Greg Thornton. Samantha almost held her breath. He looked, as ever, dashingly handsome and dominant, this time in a nice suit that enhanced his tall and athletic built. His piercing eyes of blue roved the room, and for a second, they focused on hers.

Samantha was panting in the struggle to get her breath. Greg looked at her too long for it to be a moment of placing a face. She turned to her presentation board quickly and began to ramble through the content to try to quell the racing of her heart around him.

'Mr. Thornton, thank you for coming,' Rachel said as she extended her hand to shake his. 'This is Samantha Reynolds, our project's designer.'

Greg confidently yet firmly shook her hand. 'Good to meet you, Ms. Reynolds. Good things I've heard about your work.'

'Thank you.' The steadiness of her voice was surprised by Samantha when she said that, after that flutter in her stomach. 'I am really looking forward hard to share my ideas with you.'.

Getting through the meeting, Samantha kept the cobwebs out of her head. She told him about the design concepts, the questions, and Greg's remarks as professionally yet expectantly as she could. She had this sensation all the while that he was watching her, and it had never been clearer that not only was he without feeling—bored to death by the whole affair—but that he was bored by her as well.

Finally the group dispersed, the others moved on and Greg lagged behind, coming forward to where Samantha stood. His face was speculative.

"Can I.can I say something?" Greg's voice was very soft.

"Sure," Samantha hadn't a clue, her thoughts buzzed.

As the room cleared his eyes lost their sharpness. "I know something about you.you seem really familiar.are we being introduced?

Samantha's heart skipped a beat. She was walking on eggshells.

"I doubt it," she ventured, trying to smile. "Maybe you've seen one of the projects."

Greg slowly nodded, even if he did not look completely content. "Maybe. Well, can't wait to see what you come up with on those ideas."

"Thanks," Samantha replied with the almost inaudible intonation of her voice.

As he left, Samantha released a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding. Of course, it had been a brief but very intense meeting. She knew what to do: keep her mind on her work, and guard the life she had managed to build. Somehow, meeting Greg again was meant to happen, but at that moment, she had to focus and deliver a design that would get her a position on the project, hopefully keeping her secret.