It cracked me open in a way I’ve been trying to keep sealed shut for a long damn time.
She’s burned into the backs of my eyes like I stared at the sun too long.
And that’s a problem.
Because I don’t do sweet. I don’t do soft. I don’t do people.
Especially not ones who make me forget why I built walls in the first place.
I woke up to cold sheets and the faint scent of her still in the air. No note. No number. Only the sound of a cab door slamming and the taillights disappearing down my drive before I could even pull on a shirt.
And I have to admit that left me even more intrigued.
I pace toward the kitchen, ignoring the buzz of my phone in my back pocket.
I already know who it is. Nova Rivera, my assistant. Probably updating me on some licensing forms or a media request I won’t answer. I don’t need more headlines. I don’t need any attention at all.
I need this place finished. I need purpose.
I need quiet.
But my phone keeps vibrating, persistent as hell, and I finally yank it out and swipe to answer.
“Yes?” I bark, not even bothering with a hello.
“Good morning to you, too, sunshine,” Nova deadpans. “Just checking to see if you’re still alive, since you ignored the last three texts.”
“I’m in the building. You’ll get your updates when I have them.”
“You know, for someone who’s hiding from the spotlight, you sure do have a flair for dramatic tension,” she mutters. “Also, the liquor license paperwork came back incomplete. Again. They need your signature and proof of ownership.”
I run a hand through my hair and exhale hard. “Send it to the office. I’ll handle it tonight.”
“No, you won’t. You’ll forget, or you’ll cold plunge your memory into oblivion like you always do. Just sign it now, and I’ll have a courier grab it.”
I rub the bridge of my nose. “Nova.”
“I know that tone. That’s your ‘I hate everyone and might flip a table’ voice.”
“Maybe I just hate paperwork.”
“You hateeverything.”
Fair.
She sighs. “Look, I’ll keep the press vultures away. But try not to scare the health inspector this time, okay? We’re not trying to be the next viral Yelp horror story.”
I grunt. “No promises.”
She pauses. “You okay?”
I hesitate a beat too long. “Fine.”
“Liar,” she says quietly, but she doesn’t push it. “All right. I’ll keep wrangling the suits. Try to smile today. Or don’t. Just try not to murder anyone before opening.”
“Noted.”
I hang up without another word, sliding the phone back into my pocket.
