“That’s a very telling bit about you guys,” she said.
“Eat,” I said.
I fed her citrus and watched the shock of tartness put color back in her cheeks. “He’s trying to protect us.”
“That doesn’t excuse?—”
“It doesn’t. It explains.” I reached for a truffle chèvre, spread it on a wafer, and topped it with a sliver of pear. “And before you walked in this morning, we were arguing about certain complications that have impacted the business. It wasn’t about you at all.”
Her breath caught around the bite. “It’s not good to keep information from me. I can’t help you if I don’t know the true landscape.”
“Some things we can’t tell you yet.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“I’m not lying to you. If I were, I’d do it with better cheese.” I smiled.
She laughed. The sound landed somewhere under my ribs and did psychic damage.
She toyed with a macaron but didn’t eat it. “I’m tired of trying to navigate this hotel with a glitchy key card. I don’t know where I’ll get stuck.”
“You’re right. And Ares is working on that,” I said in a serious tone. “He brought in a security system analyst he knows. Until we know what happened, you call one of us if a light flickers.”
I picked up a chocolate-dipped strawberry and held it, not quite touching her lips. “Go ahead. This activity is a trust exercise.”
She rolled her eyes, but she leaned forward. I didn’t move. She closed the last inch herself, teeth catching the chocolate. A strand of red stained her lower lip. I wiped it with my thumb before I could stop myself.
“Unfair,” she murmured.
“What is?”
“That you’re good at this.”
“I’m motivated.” I reached for a fig, halved and sugared, and set it on her tongue. The room grew still. The city outside pretended it wasn’t listening.
Her shoulders dropped another inch. The jerky edges relaxed.
“Here’s my pitch,” I said, lowering the timbre of my voice by an octave.
“There’s more?”
“Yes. You’re not the arsonist. You’re not the rumor. You’re the woman who walked into a bleeding company and said, ‘This is how you stop the hemorrhage.’ You’re the person who made me believe we could be good guys out loud, not just in private. And you’re the first woman in a very long time who made me want to be a better man before dessert.”
“That is a line.”
“It’s the truth. Lines are shorter.”
Her eyes shone, not with tears this time, but with attention. She reached for a cube of aged Manchego and bit it, studying me like I was a new product she might consider launching. “I’m afraid I complicated things with Orion.”
“I can’t see how. He’s just like this when business matters come up.”
“Leo, I need to tell you something.”
“No, you don’t,” I said.
“Are you sure? Because Orion?—”
“I love my brother, but I will not let him hide behind our last name and call it caution.”
