“It was a mistake, Dev. An impulsive mistake.”
“A mistake that might cost so many people their jobs.” She closed her eyes, remembering the expansion plans, the new hires in process. “If Andrew withdraws, Oath Capital might not survive.”
She looked toward the front window. “Those sunflowers he bought me. I threw them in the trash can by my desk.”
A sympathetic look touched Lucy’s eyes. “Why would you do that?”
“Because they felt like…” She searched for the words. “Like holding onto them would mean believing this could be fixed. And after what I did to him, to his company?” She shook her head. “Some things can’t be undone. Better to accept it’s over than torture myself with reminders of what might have been.”
“Are you sure about that?” Lucy pressed. “Those sunflowers suggest otherwise.”
“It doesn’t matter now.”
“What will you do now?” Lucy asked.
“I don’t know. I can’t use Oath Capital as a reference now. I exposed our fake engagement and destroyed a multi-million-dollar investment deal.”
Despite everything, Lucy laughed. “Maybe leave that part off the resume.”
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Again. It had been vibrating since she left the office. She ignored it, as she’d ignored the previous calls.
“That’s the sixth time,” Lucy said, nodding toward the buzzing phone. “Aren’t you going to check who it is?”
“It’s him,” she said with certainty. “Or Gabriel or Knox. It doesn’t matter. What could I say to any of them?”
“Maybe ‘I’m sorry?’” Lucy suggested. “It might be a start.”
“Sorrydoesn’t fix this.” She pulled the phone from her pocket, staring at the screen. Six missed calls. Four voice-mails. Three text messages. All from him. “Sorry doesn’t save a company from financial collapse.”
Her finger hovered over the notification, tempted to hear his voice.
She turned the phone face down on the table.
“You can stay with me tonight,” Lucy offered, recognizing her friend’s exhaustion. “The guest room is ready.”
“Thanks,” she managed. “I don’t think I could face my apartment right now. Too quiet. Too much time to think.”
Lucy moved to the bakery kitchen, returning with a plate. “Emergency chocolate croissants,” she announced, setting it down. “These were headed for the donation bin, but I warmed them up. Figured you needed them more. Because a sugar coma is exactly what this scenario calls for.”
“Your solution to everything.”
“Has it ever failed?” Lucy asked, pushing the plate closer. “Eat. Then we’ll figure out what to do next.”
The worst part wasn’t the professional devastation. It was the realization that any chance of a real relationship with him was gone.
Lucy moved around the bakery with ease, boxing up the day’s remaining pastries for her nightly donation drop-off. The display case sat mostly empty.
Devney stared at her phone again. The notifications had climbed. Seven missed calls. Five voice-mails. Four texts.
She picked it up, thumb hovering over the screen.
“Are you going to listen to them?” Lucy asked, glancing up from behind the counter.
“I can’t.”
“He deserves to hear from you, Dev. Even if it’s to say goodbye.”
“What would I even say?” Her voice was small. “’I’m sorry I destroyed everything you built because I couldn’t handle office gossip?’”
