"Mothers have a sixth sense for these things." She straightens my tie, a casual intimacy that feels different now after last night. "Besides, we've been dancing around this for years. Maybe everyone saw it before we did."
The thought is both unsettling and oddly comforting. "Still, dinner with my mother wasn't how I planned to spend tonight."
"What did you have in mind?" Her voice drops lower, eyes darkening with suggestion.
Images from last night flash through my mind, Sloane beneath me on the plush rug, in her shower this morning, in herbed, and I have to physically step back before I do something entirely inappropriate for my office.
"Nothing suitable for discussion in a workplace environment," I manage.
Her laugh warms me from the inside. "Rain check, then." She glances at her watch. "We should head to Skyline. Lunch with Levi and Mindy, remember?"
The reminder brings me back to the reality of our day, community commitments, business obligations, the delicate balance we're trying to strike between Blackwood's interests and Hope Peak's character.
"Right." I nod, professional mask sliding back into place. "Let me grab my coat."
"And maybe put on a tie that doesn't scream 'corporate takeover'?" she suggests, eyes twinkling. "I think there's a red one on your desk that would be perfect."
"How do you know what's on my desk?"
"Please. I've been your best friend for three years. I probably know your filing system better than you do." She heads for the door. "I'll meet you in the lobby in ten."
After she leaves, I find myself staring at the closed door, a warmth spreading through my chest that has nothing to do with the office heating. Three years of friendship, and somehow everything has changed in the span of twenty-four hours. Yet underneath it all, the foundation remains the same, the easy understanding, the shared humor, the implicit trust.
I reach for my coat, pausing when I notice a small wrapped package on my desk that wasn't there before. The tag reads simply:For lunch with the locals. -S
Inside, I find a dark red tie with subtle pine tree accents woven into the silk, corporate enough to maintain my standards, local enough to show I'm making an effort. It's so perfectlybalanced, so thoughtfully chosen, that I find myself smiling as I remove my navy tie and replace it with Sloane's gift.
Fifteen minutes later, we're walking through fresh snow toward Skyline Bar & Grill. The town is fully embracing the holiday season now, with garlands strung between lampposts and shop windows decorated with twinkling lights and festive displays.
"Nervous?" Sloane asks as we approach the restaurant.
"About lunch with a town council member? Hardly."
"Liar." She nudges me with her elbow. "You've got your boardroom face on."
I consciously relax my expression. "Better?"
"Getting there." She stops us just outside Skyline's entrance. "Look, Levi's a good guy. Protective of Hope Peak, but fair. And Mindy's wonderful, she teaches kindergarten and makes the best apple pie in three counties."
"And their twins?"
"Adorable terrors. Four years old and convinced they're superheroes." Her eyes soften. "They'll probably ask you a million questions and tell you their entire life stories in the first five minutes."
"I'm not good with children," I admit, an unexpected vulnerability surfacing.
"You'll be fine." She squeezes my arm reassuringly. "Just be yourself. The real you, not the CEO version."
"The real me?"
"The one who made me coffee this morning." Her voice drops. "The one who held me like I was something precious last night."
Her words loosen something in my chest. "I can try."
She reaches up, adjusting my new tie with a smile of approval. "Nice choice, by the way."
"Had an excellent advisor," I murmur, catching her hand before she can withdraw it. "Thank you."
She understands I'm thanking her for more than the tie, for her guidance, her belief in me, for seeing the man beneath the corporate armor.
