He tips his head toward the desk outside my office, where my new assistant is hunched over the spreadsheets I dumped on him earlier, brow furrowed in concentration.
“Glowing references,” I say absently, already turning back to my inbox. “Ten years in the industry.”
“And yet,” Anthony adds, leaning against the doorframe, “you still have that look.”
I sigh, rubbing a hand over my jaw. “What look is that?”
“The one that says there’s still a piece missing.”
I scoff quietly. “I think I pay you far too much, but not enough to be my therapist.”
He doesn’t rise to it. He just watches me for a moment longer. “If she never comes back,” he says evenly, “can you live with that?” The question lands like a blow to the chest. My focusblurs. I snap the laptop shut and lean back in my chair, staring up at the ceiling like it might give me an answer I don’t already know.
“I spoke to Toni last night,” I say instead. “Erik’s impressing him.”
Anthony nods. “He just needed the chance to prove himself in the right ways.”
“Clock off,” I tell Anthony as he pulls the car in by the curb.
He glances over. “You sure?”
“Yes.” I loosen my tie, already reaching for the door. “I’ll find my own way home.”
He studies me for a second, like he wants to argue, then nods. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
I snort. “I’ve retired from that.”
He drives off, and I stand there for a moment, staring up at the warm glow spilling from the restaurant windows. Familiar. Predictable. Safe in the way routines always are.
I step inside.
“Evening, Mr Baxter,” Luca says immediately, flashing a smile as he takes my coat. “Your usual?”
“Yeah,” I reply absently.
He hesitates. Just a fraction. Enough that I notice. “And—” he clears his throat, glancing toward the back of the room, “there’s someone waiting for you tonight.”
My stomach drops. I follow his line of sight, and the world narrows to one point. One woman seated at my table, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her spine straight, chin lifted.
Leoni.
My lungs forget how to work. She looks different. Calm. Collected. Like she belongs to a life I’m no longer part of.
I stop by the table. Luca murmurs something about giving us time and disappears, but I barely hear him. All I can hear is the thud of my heart and the quiet roar of everything I want to pour out before she decides to leave again.
She looks up, and our eyes lock.
I force my legs to move and take the seat opposite her, careful. Scared that any sudden movement might spook her into vanishing.
“Leoni,” I say, managing a small smile.
“Don’t you ever get bored of eating the same thing?” she asks thoughtfully, glancing at the menu I don’t need.
I give a slight shake of my head. “No. I like it here. They cook my—”
“Steak just the way I like it,” she finishes for me.
Something tight in my chest loosens. I smile properly this time. “Yeah.”
