I know I should be upset about my smashed phone. But all I can see is the broken picture frame of Jude.
Picking it up off the ground, I stare down at his smiling face as a wave of devastation hits me all at once.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble, tears free falling onto the cracked glass. “I’msosorry.” I rub the wetness off but it’s no use. The tears keep coming.
Take care of him. That’s all Jude asked of me. How am I supposed to take care of Elijah when he won’t even talk to me?
Everything issofucked.
Suddenly, there’s a knock at the door.
I sniff, quickly rubbing the sleeve of my sweater under my nose.
“Uh, come in,” I say, giving myself a few smacks on the cheek to wake me back up as I head back to my desk.
I tuck my chair in as the guest enters the room.
Oh, no.
In walks Paul Hartman. The investor who wants to buy the restaurant during the craziest time of my life.
“Mr. Voss.” He smiles, striding in like the professional man that he is.
I quickly stand and extend my hand, exchanging a firm shake.
“Call me, Tobias.” I motion to the chair across from me. “Please. Take a seat.”
He gives me a wary look. I can only imagine how I look right now. My pale skin does nothing to hide my blush and red swollen eyes.
I’m sure I look like a mess.
Unlike last time, he chooses to sit, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place.
Fuck, I guess that’s the whole point.
“Thought I’d come in to chat with you. Seeing as you haven’t been replying to my emails.” He winks, chewing on his gum.
I cringe. I haven’t been as on top of my emails as I should be.
With everything going on, I feel like the restaurant has sadly taken the brunt of it.
“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ve meant to get back to you.” I hurriedly click on my computer screen, if only to show him how much I care.
He throws his hands up and shakes his hands. “No worries, no worries. Honestly, don’t stress about it. I get it.”
I arch my eyebrow and sit back in my chair. “You do?”
He nods. “Yes. This restaurant means a great deal to the both of you. This isn’t just a deal you’d want to walk into blindly.”
I shake my head. “Definitely not.”
He holds up a finger. “But, I’m not just anyone and I’d like to prove it to you. To you both. If I could talk to Elijah—”
There it is. That wave in my stomach. “Uh…I don’t think that will be possible.”
“He’s notinto the idea?” Paul asks.
I look down at the desk. “Honestly? No. He sees it as you trying to get a stake in the game.”
