Kathryn Sanderson stood on the sidewalk on Milk Street in downtown Boston. Directly in front of her was the fifty-story glass-and-steel building that housed Wintersoft, Inc.
She knew they would be waiting for her arrival, but she wasn’t ready to go inside yet. She couldn’t believe she was actually in Boston, home of Paul Revere’s midnight ride, the Boston Tea Party, baked beans and a little tavern where everyone knew your name.
She tipped her head back and allowed the big, fat snowflakes to tickle her eyelashes, light on her cheeks and melt on her mouth.
Snow was a glorious, wondrous sight and sensation for a woman who’d never been out of California before. The novelty of the weather pumped her full of adrenaline, chasing away the exhaustion left behind by the long plane trip.
She knew it wasn’t the snow alone that had created the new burst of nervous energy. It was a combination of the snow and the anticipation of seeing him again.
Nate. It had been over five years since they’d parted. She’d just turned twenty-six when he’d come to Silicon Valley to take some computer courses she was enrolled in as well.
They’d dated for four months before it had all fallen apart and he’d returned to his life in Boston and she’d continued her life in California.
She looked up at the top of the fifty-story building. She’d been told his office was on the forty-ninth floor. “Senior Vice President of Technology,” she murmured aloud.
Apparently he’d achieved his dream of a position of power in the corporate world. She wondered if he’d also attained a corporate wife to go with his position.
No sense in putting it off any longer, she thought. She had a job to do. She shifted her suitcase from one hand to the other, then headed into the office building. She chose the express elevator and was whisked silently and efficiently to the forty-ninth floor.
A secretary who introduced herself as Mary Sharpe greeted her and accompanied her down a long hallway. “That’s Nate’s office,” she said, and pointed to the door at the end of the hallway.
For a long moment Kat stood outside the door, surprised to discover that what she thought might be pangs of hunger were actually nervous butterflies.
It was ridiculous to be nervous about seeing a man she had dated so many years ago. But it had been more than just dating, a little voice whispered inside her head. It had been your future, and you blew it.
She shook her head to quiet the tiny voice. It hadn’t been her future. Nate had been a dream, an extended dream that had eventually turned into a nightmare of heartache and false expectations. And now he was the man she would be working with to solve a company problem.
With a deep breath to steady her nerves, she knocked briskly on the door. She had no preconceptions about the man he’d become in the past five years, but when he opened his office door his appearance sent a small shock wave rippling through her.
It was like stepping back in time. His hair was as rich and black as she remembered. The brilliant green of his eyes was just the same. The gray suit he wore seemed to love the lean fitness of the body it hugged. He hasn’t changed a bit, she thought with a small sense of wonder.
“Hi, Nate.”
He nodded, his eyes revealing no emotion whatsoever. “Kathryn.”
Kathryn. Not Kat, like it had always been, but the more formal Kathryn. “May I come in?”
“Of course.” He held the door open wider to allow her to sweep past him. His sensual lips were compressed together in a tight, grim line.
“Wow, nice office,” she exclaimed as she stepped in and dropped her suitcase to the floor. She shrugged off her coat and tossed it onto the leather sofa.
It was a beautiful office, the furniture warm in colors of gold and burgundy and rich, highly polished mahogany wood. She stepped to the huge windows and peered out. Through the falling snow, she thought she could see the distant gleam of the harbor.
“I can’t believe I’m really in Boston,” she murmured.
“I can’t believe it, either.”
She turned and eyed him sharply. His tone had betrayed a hint of displeasure, but his handsome features held an utter lack of expression.
“The fruit is for you,” he said, and indicated the large basket in the center of the coffee table.
“Oh, how lovely. Thank you so much. That was very thoughtful.”
“It’s not from me,” he said hurriedly. “You can thank Mr. Winters.”
“Fine, I’ll do just that.” Kat had been in awkward situations before, but never with the kind of tension that filled the air at the moment.
She sank onto the burgundy sofa and looked up at him. “So, how have you been, Nate? You’re looking well.” That was the understatement of the century. He looked better than well. He looked fantastic and she was shocked to feel an old familiar spark ignite within her, a spark she mentally doused with cold water.
“I’ve been fine…good actually…great, in fact.” His voice was still cool and he seemed to be looking at everything in the office except her. “The only blight in my life at the moment is the hacker who has been wreaking havoc with my program.”
She didn’t miss the fact that he’d managed to deflect the conversation from anything personal back to the business at hand. “Then I guess we need to start with some information. When Emily Winters contacted me she was rather vague about the specifics.”
“She would have been vague on the phone,” he replied. “The program has been kept under the tightest of security.”
“It can’t be that tight if somebody got in,” she replied wryly.
He was obviously not amused by her observation. He shot her a dirty look and sat down in his chair behind his desk. “I started work on Utopia a little over two years ago. My idea was to come up with a financial program that would streamline cross-functional business processes, eliminate islands of automation and seamlessly integrate enterprise-wide and mission-critical data in real time.”
“I thought that was already what Wintersoft, Inc. was offering its clients.” She crossed her legs, aware that for the first time his features held an expression other than vague displeasure.
“It was—it is—but Utopia does it all more quickly and efficiently.”
As he told her about the features of the beta software program he’d been working on, his features came alive, making him impossibly handsome, making her remember a time when his face had lit up with life just for her. He got up from the desk, pacing as he spoke.
“If time is of the essence, then I guess we should get to work,” she said when he’d finished.
There were a million questions she wanted to ask him and none of them had to do with the program he’d been working on. She wanted to know if he still buttered his toast with the precision of a surgeon. She wondered if his favorite color was still blue, if he was still driven by demons she’d never quite understood.
She wanted to know if he had found happiness. If he had a loving wife and maybe a little boy or girl waiting for him at home.
More than anything, she wondered if he ever thought of her and those wonderful, crazy, intense days and nights they had spent together.
She had a feeling the answer was no. She’d always figured that for Nate she had been like a new computer game, and when he realized he couldn’t program her he’d closed the file and had never opened it again.
“I just want you to know up front, I’m not accustomed to working with anyone. I’m