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I’m a billionaire with a thriving business, in excellent health, and even on my darkest days, I’ve been able to count on a natural emotional and mental resilience I know isn’t the norm for a lot of people. I have a gorgeous home in Vermont, a stunning apartment in the city, and the option of retiring by forty if I want to.
But it’s this woman who makes me feel like I won the life lottery.
I can’t believe I almost let her slip away.
The thought makes my arms tighten around her, holding her close as the kiss ends. “I guess you missed me, too?”
She nods. “So much. Tuesday night was lame without you.”
“So lame,” I agree, wishing it wasn’t too soon to ask her to move in with me. But it is. But in a month or two, things will be different. In a month or two, it won’t be untoward to suggest cohabitation or to ask her if she might consider Christmas in Vermont…or to tell her that I’m in love with her. Because I am, and I don’t give a shit if that seems crazy to anyone else. I’ve been looking for a love like this long enough to know when I’ve found it. “You should definitely sleep over tonight.”
Her lips turn down. “Sadly, I can’t. Noelle needs help boxing hamster fashion. She had a ton of orders come in last week and is so busy sewing she hasn’t had time to get things ready to ship. I told her I’d come home early tonight and help her knock it all out before the panic attacks get any worse.”
“You’re a good friend,” I say, squashing the disappointment rising in my chest. At least I get to see her and touch her, even if it’s just for a little while. I nod toward the bar. “Should we go somewhere else, then? Will an old-fashioned interfere with your ability to ship hamster fashion?”
“Hell, no,” she scoffs. “I need that old-fashioned. I spent the afternoon playing ‘Please Stop Being a Jerk and Let me Make This Project Awesome’ with Dave again. I thought Mitch was going to have a heart attack at one point, when Dave suggested the homeless children didn’t need a playground in the courtyard.”
I scowl, shaking my head as we make our way to the front. “What’s wrong with that man? The project is coming in right on budget.”
“He wants it under budget, I guess,” she says, leaning against the gleaming mahogany bar beside me. “He thinks that’s what wins brownie points with my father. And I guess it is. I mean, Dave’s been with the company for seven years. Dad clearly knows how he operates and still selected him to take the lead on this project, so…”
“Two old-fashioned please,” I tell the bartender before turning back to Sydney. “You’re disappointed in your dad?”
“A little, yeah. I don’t know… The longer I’m at the office, the more it feels like I don’t fit in there. I knew that my father was old-school, but I didn’t realize how…transactional everything was. I’m not sure he even has friends outside of work who can’t boost business for him in some way.”
I consider that as I pay for our drinks and Sydney leads the way back to the corner booth. Once we’re seated, I say, “But that’s something you could change, eventually. Your dad wants you to take over the company, right? And once you’re in charge, you can build a new company culture.”
She sighs, swirling her tiny black straw around in her drink. “Yeah, I could, I guess. But you know what they say in business school: Culture eats strategy for breakfast and culture is the hardest thing to change.”
“True,” I agree.
“And what if…”
“What if?” I prompt after a moment.
She looks up, her gaze troubled. “What if I don’t want to fight to change the culture at my father’s company? What if nothing about working there feels right? This summer, I thought I could put aside my reservations and be what my family needs me to be, but now…I’m not sure. That voice inside, telling me this isn’t where I belong or what I want to do with my one precious life, just keeps getting louder and louder.” She narrows her eyes on mine, “And it’s at least partly your fault.”
My brows lift. “My fault?”
“Yes,” she says, scooting closer, until her thigh presses against mine beneath the table. “This feels so right. It makes wrong things feel even more wrong.”
I put my arm around her shoulders, nestling her more firmly against my side. “Agreed. Not to change the subject, but I don’t think I can keep this from Adrian much longer. That also feels wrong. I was thinking of telling him this weekend. I initially wanted to wait until he knew the results of the DNA test, but that’s going to take at least two weeks, and I don’t think I can wait that long.”
Sydney pulls in a breath, letting it out in a rush. “Okay.”
“If you want to wait, we can wait.”
“No, I’m just dreading it. But you’re right. The longer we put it off, the weirder it’s going to feel. And at least it will be one uncomfortable thing off my plate. Then I’ll just have to figure out how to tell my father that not only am I dating one of his business partners, but I’m also seriously considering running away to live in the marsh with the swamp birds and butterflies.”
“Can I run with you?” I ask, loving the way she smiles at the thought.
“Yes, please.”
“Or you could find a company that aligns more with your values. Not to overstep, but I pride myself on putting the well-being of the people who will eventually be living in my buildings above the bottom line. Way above it. And I regularly give project managers time off to pursue other goals. Nigel went to Tibet for two months last year and Sierra took a sabbatical to build a yurt out of old soda bottles. I could absolutely find a way to give a valuable employee time off in the summers to roam the bog like the butterfly goddess she is.”
Her gaze softens. “I appreciate the offer, but I’m not sure working for you would be a good idea, Gideon. I’d have to think about it, but I think I’d rather come home to you.”
“Yeah, I’d like that, too,” I say, my throat tight with emotion.
