She shivers at the contact. Then she pulls her phone from her purse and swipes at the screen. “I’m setting an alarm. You’ve got fifteen. Better get started.”
Twenty minutes later I’ve laid out the entire plan and still haven’t been kicked to the curb. When her alarm went off, she stopped it without any excuses or commentary and slid her phone back in her purse, letting me finish. Now that I’m done, she sits back in her chair and puts the report that she’s now studied scrupulously on the table between us.
“It’s a good proposal,” she says, unceremoniously. “If Warren doesn’t go for it, he’s a fool.”
But does it make you happy? “It’s not the scenario you’d hoped for.”
“The scenario I’d hoped for was unrealistic, and to be honest, my father doesn’t have the vision that Nathan Murphy has, according to what you’ve told me. This is a much better move.” She studies her finger as she traces the edge of the papers in front of her. “It’s my best shot at being involved with Werner Media, and I’m grateful.”
I let out a breath, slowly, relieved that she’s on board, but not wanting to let on how relieved. “It’s the least I can do,” I start to say.
But at the same time, she says, “Why are you doing this?” Her brow is wrinkled, and her eyes scald me with their burning curiosity.
The heat behind her gaze is too hot, and I have to look away. “Lots of reasons, actually. It’s the best move for Werner Media.” I busy myself with putting my reports back in my briefcase. “It’s the best move for Accelecom, in my opinion. It’s a good move for Pierce Industries, an even better move for me. It’s about time I take more of an active interest in the business.”
“It is a very strategic move for your career.”
“I think so.”
She crosses her arms over her chest. “Why else are you doing this? Why are you doing this for me?” From the look on her face, I can tell I’m going to have to give her a lot more than this. I’m going to have to be a lot more vulnerable.
It’s hard, but I force myself to meet her gaze. “Because no matter what I think I am or what I want to be, I’m still a nice guy at heart. And I haven’t been very nice to you. I want to apologize for that, and this is the best way I know to do that.”
Her features relax ever so slightly. “Then you don’t think I’m a spy anymore?”
“No, I don’t.”
“What made you change your mind? Did you realize your brother really did give those financial reports to my father?” There’s no malice in her questions. She simply wants to know.
I shake my head. “I didn’t even ask. I decided I didn’t need to. I decided I trusted you.” She chuckles to herself, which was definitely not the reaction I was hoping for. “What’s so funny?”
She shrugs, sobering. “I guess, nothing. Just. I didn’t even defend myself. I ran. I’m exactly like my mother. How on earth can you trust someone who runs?”
There’s an ache in her voice, and I want nothing but to erase it. Want to take the blame. I lean forward, reaching for her hand before I remember myself and rest mine between us. “Why wouldn’t you run? I bullied you.”
“You only asked me a question.”
“I asked it in front of everyone.” I cringe as I remember how shitty I was when I interrogated her. “It wasn’t fair. And I was aggressive. I didn’t provide a safe space to talk it through.”
She lays her hands on the table. “I was afraid I’d answer, and you still wouldn’t believe me.”
“Then you didn’t trust me either.” Like her, I’m not being spiteful—I’m working it out.
“I wanted to. But everything was moving so fast. It felt like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When you said what you did, I thought, well, that’s about right.”
“Maybe I felt a bit like that too.” Or more than a bit. Wasn’t that why I refused to acknowledge I was falling for her? Wasn’t that why I was so eager to latch onto Hudson’s accusations? It feels so good to admit it. It feels so good to admit all of it.
“I’m sorry I ran,” she says.
“I’m sorry I accused.”
“I didn’t spy on you for my stepmother.”
“I shouldn’t have let you leave.” I should never let her leave again.
Her hand is so close, and when I stretch my fingers out to brush against hers, she brushes back. Warmth shoots up my arm, spreading through me like lightning. Though I’m trying to stay focused on her needs, I’d hoped—of course, I’d hoped—that part of what she needed was me. Touching her like this, the yearning grows. I want her so fucking much. And she feels so within my grasp.
Then she says the words that kill everything. “Chandler, even if this plan of yours works out, I’m still headed back to the UK. It’s hard enough to have a relationship when we work like we do. Long-distance would be near impossible.”
I close my eyes for the briefest second. “I know.” I’m not keen on long-distance either. There is a way that she doesn’t have to leave, but if she doesn’t see it, then I have to think she doesn’t want to. I test the ground one more time, to be sure. “At least you’ll have what you really want—the job.”
“Right. The job.” She pulls her hand back, and that answers everything. She might have developed feelings for me, but the most important thing to her is still her career. It’s what I should have expected.