Morning dawned, bright sun and cloudless sky. And inside I was a mess of storm clouds and torrential rain. A clashing war of conflict for what I had to face. Everything was in order and no amount of dragging my feet was going to delay the matter any further. Nine am arrived and I was a reluctant bride in a shotgun wedding.

Naturally, I wore black. A pantsuit, plain and unadorned.

Documents were signed. The deed was done and I felt sick. So completely twisted and tied up into tight little knots of mixed emotion. The procession hadn't taken more than a half hour. Between myself, Tristan and the heads of our legal team, the paperwork had been lined up along the stretch of Iconic's boardroom table and we worked through the pages, almost like drones in an assembly line.

Signing. Initialling. Date stamping. Repeat.

By the end of it my hand was rigid, but from anxiety instead of chronic overuse. The merger was complete. Now all that remained was for the Press Releases to be drafted, finalized and for the Investor Relations department to herald the news to the world:

Iconic Communications was now a part of Shade Enterprises.

I now worked for Tristan Shade.

But ever the consummate professional, a woman at the top had to know how to perform when the lights and cameras were centered on her. I maintained a brave face until I was tucked away safe behind the door of my corner office. Here, and only here, I could let the mask drop. Behind my desk, safe from discovery as I'd had the foresight to lock my door, I poured myself into my chair and folded over with a groan.

Breathe, I instructed myself with my head between my legs. Deep breaths. Slow, deep and easy.

I hadn't expected it to be this hard. This wrenching. And right now I felt like a hole was being gnawed through my guts. The ache and burn of tears weighed behind my eyes but I held them at bay. Not even behind closed doors would I dare shed them while on office turf.

No amount of relief that came with a crying jag was worth the ruin of my face in the aftermath, and I simply couldn't justify the time it would take to set myself to rights again. I was fortunate enough to be gifted with natural beauty, but perfection required a hell of a lot of effort. And thanks to the completion of the merger, I now had a busy, busy day ahead of me.

My laptop propped on my desk winked to life as an email came through. I heard the tinkling chime and knew that it was time to wrap up my pity party, pull on my Big Girl panties and get on with things. Sucking in one more breath, exhaling slowly the way I learned in Yoga--and therapy--I sat up, took a second to allow the light-headedness to dissipate before typing in my password.

The screen cleared and up sprang at least a dozen emails I'd earmarked while in the signing-important but not pressing and could wait until the next hour to be sorted through. My eyes roved to the top of the list for the recent newcomer and-I stopped breathing.

"Well," I muttered, "he didn't waste much time." And opened Tristan's email.

Congratulations, Ms. Pierce. I couldn't be more excited to have concluded the business aspect of the merger, at long last. I will endeavour to make this transition smooth and efficient, and look forward to our collaborative efforts to ensure Iconic and Shade Enterprise's union is a successful one.

Brief, pleasant and not at all unprofessional; the sort of email one would expect during these circumstances, but I could dissect the subtext easily enough.

Are you okay? I hope this doesn't complicate things for us.

I closed the email without replying. I'd get to him later. Not now. Not while I felt so exposed and vulnerable, a tumultuous mix of emotions too snared to detangle. I was still CEO of the single largest communications firm in New York, and I had a job to do.

***

The rest of the day ran smooth as silk between my experienced fingers. Clients, colleagues and casualties of war, I dominated, them all and by the lunch hour I felt more like myself.

Calm. Confident. Controlled.

"I understand," I replied, leaning comfortably in my chair, headset affixed to my ear so I didn't have to bother myself with holding a receiver during lengthy, never-ending back-to-back calls. "But I don't agree with Veraster on his strategic planning. No, no tell the Mark I'm not signing off on this. If he--" I swivelled at the sound of my door opening. "Bob, I'm going to have to call you back. Yes, yes I'm clear at four-thirty. Okay."

"Sorry to interrupt." Tristan stopped in front of my desk, stood there within my office like he owned it. He'd removed his jacket, removed his tie and had his shirt cuffed to the elbows revealing muscled, tanned forearms. "I've been trying to reach you all morning."

Still leisurely reclined, I tapped my headset affixed to my left ear. "Busy."

"I emailed."

"Nothing of consequence." I tapped the keys on my laptop, bringing my inbox into view--where three more emails from him flashed, all read. "Otherwise I would have answered."

"I was inviting you to join me and the Board for lunch."

"I never eat before one."

He leaned forward, planting hands to my desk. "You can make an allowance for today, don't you think?"

"No." I blinked up at him innocently, wondering how many buttons I could push before his temper sparked. "I've an important meeting in fifteen minutes with--"

"No you don't, not anymore."

My blood chilled, the muscles in my belly coiled into a tight, hard knot. "Care to explain?" I flexed my fingers, resisting the urge to curl them into fists.

"I had it rescheduled ten minutes ago." Tristan straightened, his features distant and unreadable. "When you failed to respond I followed up with your assistant, Paul, and directed him to--"

I was out of my chair and on my feet before I registered I was even moving. If Paul wasn't already halfway to Siberia by the time I reached his desk, then he was going to rue the day he-Tristan caught me by the arm and I whirled on him, a boxer ready to square off in round one.

"Where do you get off?" Though I was spitting mad, I had the presence of mind to keep my voice hushed and at a minimum. Walls had ears, after all, and wagging tongues weren't far behind.

"I did what needed to be done." He spoke softly, so softly and without a hint of remorse or temper. His chilled demeanour only made my blood boil and seethe all the more.

"You don't get to make those kinds of decisions without first discussing them with me. Merger be damned. Last time I checked, I am still CEO."

"Then behave like one." He released my arm, tucked his hands in his pockets. "The Board is expecting you to attend. It comes with the job. So set your issues with me aside for an hour, and put back on that lovely little façade you wore upstairs. We're due to join them in twenty minutes. I promise we won't keep you long."

"No." I set my teeth, could almost hear them crack under the strain. "If you think-"

"Stop." I didn't know if it was the imperceptible shift in his eyes-grey as hellsmoke--or the way his finger held against my lips, but I fell as silent as a mime.

"I know this is hard. I know you're scared. I intervened this afternoon to allow you to save face in front of a group of men who'd are just waiting for you to fail." That finger lifted from my lips, crooked under my chin to angle my head back enough for our eyes to lock. "Do you really want to give them that satisfaction?"

My throat was tight. "No."

"Good. Take a minute, get yourself together and let's get this over with. We can deal with whatever is upsetting you after work." He released me--first with his eyes, next with that patient, steady finger. And I swayed, a magnet suddenly freed from the compelling embrace of its opposing mate. Naked and alone and very much in need of his reassurance and support, even if I didn't want to admit it.

Tristan paused by my door, looked back at me. "I'll meet you in the lobby. Don't keep me waiting long."

***

He was right. And I hated to admit as much, but the lunch was both necessary and unavoidable. Gathered around the table with the various members of Iconic and Shade Enterprises Board of Directors, I did what I did best and did it with a smile.

Without a hint or flicker of the storm raging just beneath my pristine and poised exterior. And Tristan was charismatic as ever. All eyes were on him within the humming walls of Aureole during his impressive toast and I had to give the man credit. He had style.

When I returned to Iconic just shy of two, I caught sight of Paul-pale as Alaskan snow beneath his cap of sandy hair. With a crook of my finger, he leapt from his seat and followed me into my office.

"I know," he panted, shutting my door behind him before scampering to my desk. "I know, I know, I'm sorry--so effin sorry, Ms. Pierce. But he made me do it. He made me. And I couldn't--"

"Paul."

"--tell you cause me made me swear to keep quite, too."

"Paul," I repeated, and pointed a finger at the chair facing my desk. Without another word, he plopped a bony butt encased in charcoal argyle slacks and crossed a leg. His foot wiggling trepidatiously.

"Please don't fire me." 

I took a deep breath, linked my fingers atop my closed laptop. "I'm not going to fire you."

His narrow shoulders relaxed and that incessant wriggling stopped. "Thank God."

"I'm not finished. Moving forward, that will not happen again. Understood?"

He nodded sharply, layers of hair flapping like a terrified pigeon's wing.

"I'm going to have words with Mr. Shade for his behaviour, and make damn sure he doesn't put you in the middle again, but if he does--on pain of death--you tell me."

"Yes. Yes, Ms. Pierce."

I held his attention, and the silence, a few seconds longer, until I was sure the message-and fear-had truly sunk in before nodding towards the door, signalling the end to our little...discussion. Taking the hint, Paul leapt out of his seat and was gone in a speedy, narrow-hip swinging stride of a speed walker determined to break all land records.

Leaning back, I pressed a hand to my mouth to smother my smile.

One down, I thought. One more to go.