“My full name is Mackenzie Mitchell Emerson. In the business world, I go by Mackenzie Mitchell. To my family and friends, I’m Mitch Emerson.” He shrugged. “I hate the name Mackenzie. My mother had to use it to please her father at the time.”
“Michelle called you Mr. Mackenzie.”
Again, he shrugged. “That’s her error. She must have heard my name incorrectly.”
I narrowed my eyes, anger making my heart beat faster. “But you didn’t bother to correct me.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I should have. When you said the name of the firm you worked for, I was shocked. What were the chances the woman I’d fallen for at the bus stop worked at the place I had just signed on to consult for?”
“But you didn’t.”
“I didn’t want to risk you walking away. I wanted you to get to know me.”
My voice rose in disbelief. “By lying to me. That is what you wanted me to know about you?”
“I didn’t lie.”
His words hit me, echoing ones I had heard in the past. I crossed my arms as the familiar feeling of unease seeped into my chest. My body shook with repressed anger.
“By not telling me the complete truth, you did. Are you aware there is a strict non-fraternization clause at the office? By not telling me, you’ve put my job at risk.”
Shaking his head, he stepped nearer. “No, I called my lawyer on Friday night and checked. It’s not in my contract. I’m a consultant.”
I dragged in some much-needed oxygen. “It’s in mine. Very clearly. No dating of fellow employees, management, consultants, or business associates of Parson Planners.” I shook my head in disbelief. “Do you realize if Michelle or anyone at the office found out, I would lose my job? You know how much I need this job.”
He furrowed his brow. “I’ll have him recheck. We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.”
I gaped at him.
Figure it out?
“Do you think we’re going forward, Mitch? That I’d simply accept your lies and move on?” I tried to stop the quiver in my voice and failed. Disappointment and sadness flooded my system. “I thought you were different. You seemed so open and honest. So…real. How do you think I would have felt tomorrow when you showed up at the office?” I covered my mouth and swallowed. “That would have been horrible.”
He reached for me, but I stepped back, shaking my head. “Don’t.”
He held out his hands beseechingly. “I am real. What I feel is real. I should have told you. I swear to God I intended to tell you earlier. But then we got carried away. I wasn’t going to let you leave without telling you tonight. I wouldn’t have done that to you, Mandy.”
I stared at him, my emotions high, and not believing his words.
“You said you thought I hadn’t been treated right in the past. You were correct. My boyfriend of two years didn’t treat me very well. I was always second for him—often third or fourth. Everything and everyone else was always more important. He constantly made excuses, and somehow made me feel it was my fault—every time. He lied and cheated on me, and when I confronted him, he said it was easier just to keep me around for when he was bored. I wasted two years of my life trying to be enough for someone who never thought I was enough to be honest or put me first.”
“I will put you first.”
I picked up my purse and coat. “No. By lying and omission, you’ve shown me your job is already more important. You made me feel things for you without knowing who you were. You took the choice from me. I can’t do that again.”
“Sweetheart, don’t—”
I didn’t let him finish. I held up my hand, trying hard not to break down in front of him. I indicated the space between us. “This never happened, Mitch or Mackenzie—whatever your name is. Tomorrow, you are going to pretend you never met me and you are not going to jeopardize my job. As much as I don’t like it, I need it until I’ve saved enough to go back to school.”
“I don’t know if I can pretend not to know you.”
I tossed my hair, pausing with my hand on the doorknob. “I can, because obviously, I never did. I have no idea who you really are, and frankly, I have no desire to do so any longer.”
I walked out, ignoring his devastated expression and the way he hunched over the back of the sofa as if in physical pain.
And he let me go.
* * *