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Michael’s usual stoic demeanor crumbled for the tiniest second. His jaw hung loose and he leaned forward in his chair, grasping the edge of the desk. “You can’t. We’ve come so far.”
“Not far enough,” Henry said, his eyes narrowing. “I’ve got a hundred other projects on the backlog that can take their place. I recently met with Abbott about some new med tech they’re developing. If we reroute our investments now, we can cut our losses.”
Michael gritted his teeth and willed himself to stay calm. It was the same old father he’d grown up with. Always about the results and never the process. He didn’t care that this was one of Michael’s best friends and that Smithy was brilliant. He saw numbers and reports, nothing more.
It was why he’d forced Michael to give up his beloved sport in elementary school and go into fencing. There was no glory to be had in his mediocre baseball skills. But fencing was a different story. Michael had almost gone to the Olympics, he was so good. But he never loved it like he loved the sport of baseball. It still made him bitter.
“Dad, I’m telling you, this is the real deal.” Michael sat straight in his chair and fixed his father with a steady stare. “I’ve been working very closely with S
mithy’s team and they’re near finalizing the project. In fact, I’m so sure about it, I went ahead and scheduled the public unveiling for next week. We’ll be ready.”
It was like staring down a venomous viper. Michael didn’t blink. Neither did his father. Finally, after a long moment of silence, Henry abruptly stood up and walked toward the door.
“You have until the public unveiling to prove me wrong,” he said with a grunt. “After that, I’m diverting funds.”
“Understood.” Michael stood and nodded. “We’ll be ready.”
As soon as his father was gone, he sank into his chair and cradled his head in his hands. He was a man used to public pressure. He’d weathered all the storms. But his father still had a way of making him feel like a five-year-old boy, shaking in his boots.
When he closed his eyes, the only thing he could think of was Emily. Beautiful, intelligent, sweet Emily. With the public unveiling just days away, there was no way his secret would keep for much longer. He longed for more time with her. Just a few more days to feel her trusting hand in his as they strolled down the darkened streets of San Jose with cups of coffee in their hands.
Last night during their coffee date, he’d allowed himself the freedom to imagine a future with her. One that didn’t involve him prying business secrets out of her, but just the innocent beginnings of a relationship that felt...right. Emily had invaded his very soul and he was having a hard time reminding himself that it wasn’t meant-to-be.
How had he let things go this far?
If he truly cared for her, he’d end it now. Before anyone got hurt.
?
“This isn’t personal, it’s just business.”
Emily stared wide-eyed at Harold, her long-time landlord and family friend. He’d trudged into her office wearing paint-stained overalls, a shiny sheen of sweat on his bald head.
He looked bashfully up at her from the red handkerchief he was twisting in his hands and sighed. “All I’m saying is, I can’t give you any more leeway, Miss Emily. Business is tough all the way around. If you can’t pay, I need you out by the end of the week. I’ve got someone who wants the space and is willing to pay six months up front. I’m so sorry.”
He hung his head and shuffled his feet. Emily reached out and patted him on the shoulder, feeling the floor crumble out from under her. This was it. The end. No more last minute saves. Sevenson Selective was kaput. Six feet under.
“I understand, Harold.” She swallowed down the tears that threatened to burst forth. “Mom would’ve understood. You have to do what’s best for your family.”
“I’m sorry, Emily.” Harold turned toward the door, his voice thick with emotion. “So sorry.”
When he was finally gone, she collapsed into her favorite armchair and allowed the pain that had been building up to envelop her body. She clenched her abdomen, her stomach throbbing.
Her mother had rented this very office over thirty years ago. She remembered playing in the back office with her dolls when her mother entertained their exclusive guests. Some of the world’s richest men and women had walked through that door, certain they’d find love once Sevenson Selective took their case. And now, it was nothing but a memory. A crumbling, dusty memory.
The door to the office opened and Emily looked up, blinking back unshed tears. A figure stood in the sunlight, his broad shoulders filling the doorway. It took two seconds for Emily’s brain to comprehend the identity of her new guest. When she made the connection, her heart lurched forward, desiring nothing more than to jump into his arms.
“Emily.” Michael stepped forward uncertainly, his stoic expression melting into concern when he spotted her. “What’s wrong?”
She stared at him as her lower lip trembled. If she opened her mouth to speak, she was afraid the dam would break and everything would gush forward in the form of ugly sobs. She pressed her lips tightly together and pushed herself off the chair, crossing her arms over her chest.
“Are you okay?” He crossed the room slowly, eyeing her. “Is there anything I can do?”
She shook her head. He was so sweet. But not even Michael, with all his confidence and swagger, could solve her problems now. It was over.
“You’d tell me if there was something I could do?” He took her arms and pulled her closer to him.
She nodded, swallowing down the lump that had formed in her throat. She couldn’t keep up this silent act forever. “Sevenson Selective is done. In five days, we’re closing our doors forever.”
