There was something about Elena that screamed woman in power. Impossibly put together. Always three steps ahead. The kind of executive who could make a whole boardroom fold with a single inhale. She saw right through my bullshit every time, which was both annoying and extremely useful. After losing Aria to Henry a couple of years ago, I’d apparently needed a replacement emotional nanny—Elena had filled the role.
“He needed a job,” I continued. “And with what he wants from his career, VistaReal was the logical option for him. I already spoke to Marcela in Marketing—she’s thrilled to have him on the team. But,” I said, emphasizing that last word as she rolled her eyes, “if you are really against it and he turns out to be a liability—which I’m a hundred percent certain he’s not—then I’ll figure out where else he can go.”
Her brown eyes narrowed.
“And I’ll report to HR that we used to be an item,” I added, more subdued.
“Thank you.” She turned back toward the glass, posture effortlessly regal. “He’s very cute, I’ll give you that. Inappropriate—but cute.”
“That could be our motto,” I joked.
“The disclosure form is on my desk.” She pointed a perfectly manicured finger at the folder waiting for me. “Before the end of the day.”
I reached for it, skimming the lines, each one more humiliating than the last.
“You’re still seeing that Italian model?”
“He works in fashion—not a model. And yes, I am.”
“And you’re sure this isn’t inviting drama into the company at the exact moment we cannot afford drama?”
I arched a brow. “You invited drama the day we signed the founding documents.”
“Fair.” She slipped into her chair behind the massive walnut desk. “Are you ready for the board meeting?”
“Almost. I still need to review the revised forecasts. The last set was…” I exhaled. “…tight.”
She considered me for a moment. “Tight as in manageable, or tight as in we start making decisions we don’t want to make?”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t get that far.”
Because if the freeze held much longer, we’d be looking at halted projects, shrinking liquidity, and conversations I refused to have.
“Keep me posted,” she said.
I nodded.
“And about our new research assistant too.”
“There’ll be nothing to report there,” I said. “Don’t worry.”
Her eyes narrowed again. “Why are you so sure?”
“Because I’m nothing if not a strategist with a plan. And that’s not part of the plan.”
“Plans can go to shit,” she said, deadpan. “Just take a look around.”
A soft chuckle slipped out of me. “Touché. I promise I’ll let you know if mine do too.”
Stepping out of her office as our impromptu meeting ended, I was greeted by the sight of Ethan walking down the hall with a couple of people from marketing—junior analysts, by the look of them. His pale eyes found mine instantly, and he lifted a handin a wave, an easy, bright smile on his lips. I nodded back, not managing to stop myself from returning it with one of my own.
Of course he looked incredible in office attire. Another reminder of the hole I was digging myself into. But who could blame me? How was I supposed to walk into that apartment and watch him fall apart and not rush in to do anything—everything—to make him feel better? I was only human. And if that resulted in him being in my office most days of the week…
Yes, this was definitely a bad idea.
I’d also had to cancel my dinner plans with Luca so I could stay and help Ethan after he talked to Henry. Worth it, though. He looked lighter today. More relaxed. His smile was more genuine than I’d seen since he’d gotten here. Only—unfortunately—far too often directed at me.
And then there was that slip. The almost kiss. I had gotten so caught up in how he was opening up, how he was letting me in again, that I didn’t even notice how close I’d gotten to him and how unable I’d been to keep my hands to myself. And he hadn’t pulled away. Not even a little. We had come so close. So close that now the image was burned into my mind, replaying every time I blinked.
