She shrugs.
— It’s part of the arrangement, isn’t it? Family dinners, public appearances. It’s what I signed up for.
Her tone is so pragmatic it hits somewhere deep in my chest.
— About our arrangement, I start, not entirely sure where I’m going.
— Yes?
— I was thinking that maybe—with the project progressing and the positive response today—it might make sense to… extend it.
She looks at me, surprised.
— Extend it? Beyond the three months we agreed on?
— For the sake of the project, I add quickly. Continuity would be beneficial. And our families seem to have adjusted to the idea.
It’s the weakest excuse in the history of weak excuses, and I’m certain she sees right through it.
— For the sake of the project, she repeats slowly.
— Exactly. Not to mention Maggie has stopped trying to set you up with other men…
Silence settles between us—heavy with everything we’re not saying. With that kiss we’re pretending to forget. With glances that linger a second too long. And with the sharp flicker of jealousy that just hit me at the thought of her with someone else.
— I suppose it could be considered, she finally says, and relief floods through me.
That’s the exact moment Martha walks in, looking concerned.
— Mr. Alistair, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there’s something you need to see immediately.
— What is it, Martha?
— It’s about the renovation project. One of the investors has just submitted an alternative proposal to the board. They’re reviewing it right now.
— What? What alternative proposal? From who?
— From William Fraser, sir.
I go still.
William Fraser is one of our investors—and a long-time rival who’s tried more than once to insert himself into our projects. He even managed to acquire shares in the company through… less-than-transparent means.
— How was he able to submit a proposal? The project wasn’t open to competition.
— Apparently, several board members suggested it would be wise to review other options, Martha explains, uncomfortable. Your father is with them right now.
I turn to Keira. Her expression has closed off.
— I have to go, I say quickly. We’ll talk later.
She just nods, and I follow Martha out, my mind spinning between professional concern and personal frustration.
The board meetingis already underway when I arrive. My father sits at the head of the table, listening as William Fraser presents his vision with an unreadable expression. Behind him, images of a completely reimagined boutique scroll across the screen.
— Ah, you’ve finally joined us, Alistair, my father says as I enter. We were just discussing the future of our boutique.
— I can see that, I reply coolly. I didn’t realize we’d opened the project to other proposals.
