Bitterness and pain coated the words, but I knew that line. I’d given it to her. The night she’d stripped the walls down.
And she’d remembered.
“Okay.” I kept my voice careful. “What’s the first step you want to take?”
She skimmed the table, wincing at the missing wineglass. A flush crept up her cheeks as she looked down, embarrassment easing her features. “Another drink,” she said after a moment. “A strong one.”
“Done.” The word came easily, just as the waiter turned the corner—uncannily perfect timing.
“I ordered this for myself, but you’re welcome to it. Double whiskey. Their best.” I paused, realizing what this drink said without words. “I didn’t expect to see you again,” I added tightly. “I was planning to drink myself numb.”
“I didn’t expect to see you either,” she admitted, accepting the glass with a small, polite smile for the waiter—who tried, and failed, to hide his surprise.
“What changed your mind?”
She took a sip, eyes squinting against the burn, then tipped the rest back in one go.
“We’ll have two more,” I called, catching the waiter before he wandered too far.
The empty glass met the table with a muted thud.
“I couldn’t leave without knowing.”
“Knowing what?”
“Everything,” she said.
“Okay.” The word caught in my throat.
Her eyes pinned me where I sat. “How long have you known it was me?”
I swallowed hard. This was it—the moment everything I’d done came due. “From the beginning.”
She flinched like I’d struck her, color draining. “What?”
My heart cinched, the weight impossible to avoid. “I looked into Elion first,” I said, forcing the words out. “Purely in a business capacity. But as I looked into you—into your company…”
My hands started to shake. I slid them beneath the table. “You’re amazing, Emma. I found myself wanting—no, needing—to know you. And when I saw you on that dating site, it felt like divine intervention.”
Christ. I sounded unhinged. Even to myself. I fisted the fabric of my slacks.
“I knew you wouldn’t be receptive if I’d told you who I was. With the possibility of a partnership between Elion and Falkirk, you wouldn’t have seen me as a man—only a competitor. And I knew that. So I lied. I deceived you into thinking I was someone else—so I could get to know you.”
She sucked in a sharp breath through her teeth, fury lighting behind her expression. “Months.” She hurled the word like a spear, landing exactly where it needed to. “You knew for months,” she repeated, each word sharper than the last. “Even after I told you who I was—after you let me open up to you.”
“Yes.”
She folded her arms tight, whiskey-flush climbing her neck. Anger and hurt warred there in equal measure. “I can’t believe this.”
“I’m sorry.” The words scraped out. “I truly am.”
“That doesn’t help.”
“I understand.”
She looked at me with eyes like tempered steel, her mouth pressed into a hard, unforgiving line.
“Here are your drinks,” the waiter said, appearing with two tumblers of amber liquid. He set them down in front of us before slipping away.
