Page 26 of Minha Dona

Nine months of silence and distance, of trying to carefully manage her own expectations, and there she was, the other side of the room. Helena’s body responded before her mind could intervene, her pulse spiking, her skin flushing, her breath catching in a way that she hoped the London partner didn’t notice.

She looks incredible.

That was the first coherent thought that formed in her head. She looked even better than Helena remembered, the way that she held herself and effortlessly had the group around her orient towards her like they’d been captured by her gravity. Caitlin was a force of nature professionally, and the reminder of that hit Helena hard. This magnificent woman, this woman who was destined surely for great things… this woman who’d had the strength to kneel and obey Helena behind locked doors.

Her dark hair was worn down, sleek and styled, a little shorter than it had been in Houston. She wore a dark red dress that showed off her figure and her lightly tanned skin, and heels that made her legs go on forever.

And around her neck, catching the light every time she moved, a thin silver chain with a pendant of interwoven strands and a green jewel.

The necklace.

Helena’s necklace. The one she’d bought as a gift for Caitlin. The one she’d commanded Caitlin to wear while Helena took her apart in her hotel room. The one that in Caitlin’s LinkedIn photo had given Helena a fragile, probably foolish hope that she hadn’t been forgotten.

Caitlin is wearing it.

Here.

Now.

At the firm’s most important event, surrounded by every partner who mattered to her career.

Helena excused herself from the London partner, promising to talk further later in the conference, and took a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, needing something to do with her hands. She positioned herself where she could watch without being too obvious, towards the edge of the room, half-turned towards the terrace.

She watched Caitlin work the room. It was something to see… the way she moved between groups, the laugh that carried, the touch on an arm that told the recipient they mattered. She was being the force of nature. F.M.P. Future Managing Partner. Watching her now, Helena could see why the nickname stuck.

And I had her on her knees, Helena thought, then immediately pushed the thought away. Not helpful. Not here.

It was another twenty minutes before their orbits converged. Helena had just finished speaking to a couple of partners from New York and had moved to the terrace for the evening air and the view of the ocean. She was standing near the railing when she heard a voice behind her.

“I thought that was you.”

Helena turned, and there was Caitlin, three feet away, a smile on her face that made Helena’s stomach flip. Up close she was even more stunning than from across the room… her eyes, God Helena had forgotten how she could get lost in those eyes, her smooth, flawless skin, and the necklace, right there, the pendant resting just below her collarbone.

“Hey,” Helena said, and was proud of how steady her voice sounded.

“Hey.” Caitlin stepped forward and they hugged, strictly professional, two women who’d worked together on a difficult engagement and had history. Professional history. Helena caught the scent of Caitlin’s perfume and she was back there in Houston for a moment. Funny how a smell can trigger memories, she thought.

When they separated Caitlin’s eyes moved over Helena’s face, taking her in. “You look amazing.”

“So do you. Congratulations on partner, by the way. Properly, in person. Youngest ever.”

“Thank you.” Caitlin’s smile widened. “It still feels surreal. I keep expecting someone to tap me on the shoulder and tell me there’s been a mistake.”

“There’s been no mistake. Everyone knows you deserve it.”

“That’s kind of you.”

“It’s not kind, it’s true.” Helena held Caitlin’s gaze for a moment… just a moment, but long enough to feel the current between them, that same electric charge that had been there from the first night sat outside Kirby’s Ice House. It hadn’t faded. If anything it felt stronger, concentrated by absence rather than diluted.

“So how’s São Paulo?” Caitlin asked, and they fell into conversation, careful to keep it professional, friendly, two people with a history that nobody else there could remotely guess at talking in public. It was easy on the surface, talking shop. Beneath it, Helena was aware of every detail… the way Caitlin tucked her hair behind her ear, the way her fingers went to the necklace occasionally, the way she leaned slightly closer to Helena than the conversation strictly required.

A partner from the New York office approached and Caitlin introduced Helena with genuine warmth (“Helena was on my team in Houston, she’s one of the most talented consultants I’ve worked with”) and Helena felt the compliment deep down even as she noticed how smoothly Caitlin had described their connection. On my team. Professionally unimpeachable.

The partner moved on and they were alone again, briefly, in the flow of the reception.

“Still on for tonight?” Caitlin asked, her expression caught somewhere between hope and excitement. “After the dinner?”

“Absolutely.”