successful, challenging, and satisfying ones of his life. Being at the helm of a company was like an insatiable drug, one that drove him to make rash decisions and back alley deals which had clouded his vision. To say he regretted those times would be a lie. He lived to have the sensation of being in charge again.
âHi, Mr. Mitchell,â one of the security guards said.
He returned the greeting. Others approached Joel before he reached the elevators. So far the visit had been good. His troubles were already growing lighter to bear. Hopefully, the rest of his visit would go equally as well, although he didnât have high expectations. The last time he walked out of this building, many whom heâd hurt had stayed. He knew there would be some tension, but he had to try. He was too desperate to let pride force him back to the parking lot without talking with Abigail. No false pretenses. Joel planned to be completely honest.
He reached her office. Peeking inside, he saw her typing on her laptop. She didnât see him in the doorway. He drew in a quiet but long breath, preparing for the hailstorm that might be coming his way. He knocked. Abigail looked up, stared at him, as if she were seeing a stranger. She didnât speak and went back to typing on her laptop.
The warmth heâd felt as he walked through the lobby had already cooled off, and there was no way to deny the truth. He was in a hostile environment. The war might be over, but the fallout was still palpable. He should have walked away after Abigailâs subtle display of rejection. The old Joel would have. This one had too great a need to let rejection drive him away. He was poised for a battle.
âCan I come in?â he asked Abigail and entered her office before she could respond. âItâs good to see you too,â he said, taking a seat in front of her desk. He folded his hands and grinned. In the past, his smile had melted her, along with a long list of other women. Right now, there was only one woman of importance, his loyal friend and former chief advisor. Joel braced his elbows on the chair and kept grinning at Abigail, who looked up at him sporadically. He remained undeterred. It would take a lot more than a disgruntled friend to get him out of that office before he had his say. He pulled the chair closer to her desk. âAre you really going to ignore me?â he asked.
She let out an irritating juvenile scream. âWhat do you want, Joel?â she said, slamming the laptop shut.
âMy, my, I wasnât prepared for such a warm welcome. I was expecting much worse.â
âWhat do you want? Canât you see that Iâm very busy?â
Joel reached over to touch her laptop, easing the top open. âLet me see what youâre working on,â he said, intentionally being slightly annoying in an effort to get Abigail out of her tightly wound mood.
She snatched the laptop away and slammed it shut again. âStop, Joel. You know this is proprietary.â
To a stranger, Abigail would seem agitated to the point of wanting him to leave. Joel knew better. Joking around was a core piece of their relationship. The countless days and evenings theyâd spent working together had generated a boatload of silliness between them. He relished those days. No sense pining, he thought. That phase of their relationship ended when he decided to marry Zarah instead of Abigail. The close friendship they had shared was no more. His heart wouldnât allow him to believe every aspect of their relationship was over. There had to be a small fragment of it left. Somewhere in her soul, she had to have some compassion for him. That was what Joel was hoping to find this morning.
He stayed close to the desk, causing Abigail to push her chair back on the other side. âSo are you still resigning, or did Don convince you to stay?â
âYou better believe Iâm resigning,â she answered very quickly.
Joel