"Trust me." He kisses my forehead. "It's going to be fine."
At 9 AM, the entire office crowds into the main conference room. I stand next to Garth at the front, and I can feel everyone's eyes on us, hear the whispers.
"Thank you all for coming," Garth starts, his voice carrying that CEO authority. "I'll keep this brief. Claire Abbott and I are in a relationship. We've disclosed this to HR, completed all necessary paperwork, and we're handling this in full compliance with company policy."
You could hear a pin drop.
"I want to be very clear," he continues. "Ms. Abbott's role and responsibilities remain unchanged. She earned her position through exceptional work, and that hasn't changed just because our personal situation has. Anyone who has concerns aboutfavoritism or inappropriate conduct can speak to me or HR directly."
He pauses, looking around the room. "That said, anyone who makes Ms. Abbott's work environment uncomfortable will answer to me. We're all professionals here. I expect everyone to act like it."
There's a moment of silence, then someone in the back—I think it's David from finance—starts clapping. A few others join in, and suddenly half the room is applauding.
"Finally," someone mutters loud enough to hear. "The sexual tension was killing all of us."
Garth's lips twitch as he holds in a chuckle. "If there are no questions, let's get back to work."
The meeting breaks up, and people filter out. A few stop to congratulate us—Maya gives me an enthusiastic hug, and even stoic Richard from legal offers a smile.
When it's just us in the conference room, I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.
"That went well," Garth says.
"Better than I expected."
"See? I told you." He pulls me close. "Now can we please get some actual work done? I have a portfolio review at ten and you haven't gotten me coffee yet."
I laugh. "Some things never change."
"Some things do." He kisses me, soft and sweet. "I love you."
"I love you too. Now let me go get your coffee before you fire me for insubordination."
"Never." His smile is warm. "You're irreplaceable, remember?"
Garrett
Epilogue
Six months later, I'm sitting at my piano when Claire walks in from the kitchen with two glasses of wine.
She's wearing one of my shirts and nothing else, her hair damp from the shower, and I have to pause mid-song because she's so beautiful it hurts.
"Don't stop," she protests, setting down the wine and curling up next to me on the bench. "I love listening to you play."
I resume the piece,Claire de Lune, which she pointed out was hilariously on the nose given her name, and she leans her head on my shoulder.
When the last note fades, I work up th courage and say: "Move in with me."
She blinks. "What?"
"Move in with me. You're here most nights anyway. Your toothbrush is in my bathroom. Your clothes are in my closet. Just make it official."
"Garth, we've only been together six months—"
"I've been in love with you for eighteen months. I'm done wasting time." I take her hand. "Move in with me. Then decide what you want to do—stay at Rhodes, go somewhere else, start your own company. Whatever you want."
"You've thought about this."
