Page 49 of Unplanned Target

Fine.

I scoff, pissed and confused. Frustrated and annoyed. We were actually getting somewhere. His company was beginning to turn around. Profits were rising and losses were being reduced. His employees reported higher morale and his officers were thrilled to be able to go home to their families earlier at night.

I was unreachable for one working day, and he’s going to fuck his whole company over?

It seems like, because a new email pops up from the company’s controller, letting me know my final check would be auto deposited in the next seventy-two hours.

What the hell? I know I’m just a contractor. These people have no loyalty to me. But I’m good at what I do. Probably one of the best. I don’t mind making hard decisions and I don’t mind being unpopular if it helps save a company from ruin.

But there’s a difference between being unpopular and getting canned for missing a day of work.

I’m still stewing on it when I go to the next email, expecting someone looking for explanations about why they were unable to get in touch with me since I generally respond in under fifteen minutes.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” It’s another email letting me go.

I continue down the line, moving faster and faster as I go from one email to the next, only stopping when I discover all ten of my current clients have severed ties. Ended contracts abruptly with no real explanation. Not a single one of them mentions not being able to get in touch with me, which is really fucking weird.

If I was doing a bad job, fine. Fire me. But I wasn’t. I know it. These companies were happy with what I was doing for them. It doesn’t make any sense that a single day of not hearing from me has every one of them sending me an email of termination.

So I start replying. Asking questions. Demanding answers. I want to know why in the hell this is all it took for me to be cut loose. I’ve worked so fucking hard to be good at what I do, and discovering maybe I’m not as valuable as I thought, is a mind fuck. It hurts worse than my husband leaving ever did.

That was an inconvenience. This is making me question everything about who I am and what I’m capable of.

I stare in shock as I begin getting notifications that my response emails were undeliverable. Each one getting kicked back at me in secession.

Not only did they fire me, they’re blocking me too?

In just a few minutes, nearly every email has been returned, with the exception of the client I felt I had the best rapport with. He’s an older guy who built his company from the ground up. Genuinely cares about his employees and wants his business to continue thriving long after he’s gone. I actually liked him and felt like he liked me back. He never questioned any of my suggestions or pushed back simply because I told him something he didn’t want to hear.

Holding my breath, I wait, fully expecting to be blocked yet again.

Fifteen minutes later, I’m about to give up. Admit that while he might not have blocked me, the man has no intention of ever responding.

But then I get an email. One that has my blood boiling.

Miranda,

Please understand this is not a decision I made, but one that was made for me. Protecting my company and the lives of the employees within it is my number one priority. I will always put them first. Risking their safety is not an option.

I hope you run your company the same way.

Thank you for all your help,

Eugene

I... Don’t understand what he’s saying. This man is the head of his company. No one usurps his decisions. He is at the top of the food chain. And why would⁠—

Oh.

Oh God.

I spin away from the computer, a combination of dread and panic twisting my insides as I race across the room and out the door in search of the only person I trust enough to take this too. The only person I trust enough to help me figure out what in the hell I’m supposed to do now.

The only person who can make me feel better when everything is disintegrating around me.

Hopefully, he’s done talking to my brother. Because the last thing I need right now is Tony questioning my sudden attachment to Owen.

Especially since I’m not quite sure I know how to explain it myself.