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She smiled at the handsome older man and stood, holding out her arms while he kissed her on both cheeks. “So good to see you.”
He pointed as they walked down the corridor.
“How’s everyone been treating you?” he asked as they made their way into a sleek office with spectacular views and floor-to-ceiling windows.
“Fantastic,” she said, stepping to look at the skyline before shaking her head. “This is pretty spectacular.”
He came to stand beside her. “Isn’t it, though? I figured if I have to work all day, I might as well feel like I’m outside.”
“It’s breathtaking.” Because it was, it just ... she didn’t know . . . that feeling of being home was distant and far away. She turned her attention to the man poised to become her next boss. “How’s John-Paul?”
“Good, working hard as always.” François pointed to a round table in the corner next to a wall lined with bookshelves. “Come, let’s sit down.”
They situated themselves and she gave him her brightest smile. “Thank you so much for inviting me in. Everyone has been a pure pleasure.”
He laughed. “I told them to be on their best behavior so as to not scare you away.”
“Mission accomplished.”
“So tell me about your morning. I’d like to hear your thoughts.”
Sophie had always been quick on her feet, and she quickly summarized each interview, commenting on things they’d discussed as needs and coming up with various solutions or possibilities on the fly. But her responses were automatic. Not filled with excitement. Instead, she found herself drifting to Revival.
She finished her speech and François nodded. “Good, good. You know the job is yours, I already told you I wanted you on board. We both know you’ll be an excellent addition, and I can tell by what you’ve talked about already how many ideas you have. You’ll probably have more ideas than we can possibly implement. But tell me, what’s your greatest reservation?”
To her horror, the second he asked the question, her eyes welled with tears. She shook her head. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
His brow furrowed and he plucked a tissue from the shelf behind him. “Oh dear, what’s the matter?”
“Nothing, I’m totally fine.” She wiped under her eyes, took a deep breath to control herself, and squared her shoulders. This was a business meeting. “I apologize. So, anyway, about your current strategic plan—”
He held up his hand, cutting her off. “Is this about that gorgeous man you were with?”
She fought to keep herself together, using every trick she could think of to collect her emotions and tuck them away until a much more appropriate time. But then she looked into François’s concerned gaze, and all the fight and vigor seeped out of her. She nodded.
He gave her a gentle smile. “What’s the problem?”
She lowered her gaze. “He doesn’t live here.”
“Oh, yes, well, that is a problem.” He sighed. “Do you love him?”
“Yes, more than anything.”
“And does he love you?”
She nodded.
“You’ll have to work it out, then, there’s no other choice.” He sat forward and put his elbows on the table. “Would you like some advice?”
She waved her hand and gave a harsh bitter laugh. “Sure, why not, everyone else seems to have their input.”
He grinned. “Well, bear with me.”
“I’m listening.” God, she had such a headache, and she was so, so tired. All she wanted was to go home.
“Do what makes you happy.”
She blinked at him. “That’s it?”
