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“Put that away,” I said, nudging his foot with mine beneath the table. “No work during meals, remember?”
“It’s not work in the traditional sense. It’s a present.” His eyes came alive with laughter when I perked up like a dog hearing the wordwalk.
“A present? For me?”
“You’ve said you were having issues with writer’s block, so I did some research and put together a list of ways to overcome the block.” He handed me the folder. “I confirmed with several neuroscientists that these methods are scientifically sound.”
I nearly choked on my freshly squeezed grapefruit juice. “You consulted with a team ofneuroscientistsabout my writer’s block?”
He shrugged. “I donate a significant sum to various scientific organizations every year. As such, they’re happy to indulge some of my more personal requests.”
I opened the folder and scanned the suggestions. Most of it was advice I already knew from trawling the web. Meditating, setting aside a block of time every day for creative play, using the Pomodoro technique, so on and so forth. There were a few I hadn’t seen before, but it wouldn’t matter if Kai had handed me a packet of introductory yoga class flyers.
He’d taken the time to research solutions and consult neuroscientists, for Christ’s sake. My previous boyfriends thought they were doing me a favor when they picked up pizza on their way to my house.
The last time someone did something so thoughtful without expecting anything in return was when a certain billionaire showed me his family’s secret room and offered it as a writing space.
My throat constricted with emotion. I dipped my head and blinked back an embarrassing sting. The last thing I wanted was to start bawling over my crab and rice. I’d already cried once in front of Kai this week; twice would be overkill.
I flipped the pages noisily while I wrangled my runaway emotions. The pressure in my throat eased as I stopped on the second to last item.
“Engage in frequent and rigorous sexual activity when feeling stuck,” I read aloud. “Orgasms stimulate creativity, among other things.” I slanted a suspicious look at Kai, who returned it with an innocent one of his own. “Huh. I wonder who came up with that one.”
His grin spread as slow and molten as warm honey. “No need to wonder. It’s scientifically proven, my love.”
My love.
Around us, the world fell eerily quiet. No birds chirped. No waves crashed against the distant shores. Even the wind came to a standstill.
Kai had called melovemany times before, but he’d never called mehis.
One word. Two letters.
Sometimes, they made all the difference.
Kai’s smile slipped into a line of realization. Tension crept between us, twining around my torso and settling in my chest like a concrete weight.
It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was the type of silence so drenched in meaning that it drowned out any admissions lurking beneath the surface. We weren’t ready for those conversations.
I changed the subject before the pause stretched into must-acknowledge territory.
“Well, let’s see how your other suggestions fare before we test the orgasm theory,” I said lightly. “What about you? How are negotiations with Mishra going?”
DigiStream was one of the many fires Kai had to put out due to theNational Starphotos. I thought it was hypocritical of them to care so much about who he spent his free time with whentheirCEO got hospitalized for a drug overdose, but what did I know? I was just a bartender.Ex-bartender, if I didn’t find a new job soon.
Kai shifted, and just like that, the world came roaring back. The bird and ocean sounds returned, and the wind blew strands of hair across my face. Tension melted like pools of ice beneath the sun.
“They removed Whidby as CEO two days ago,” he said. “Mishra officially replaced him and is closing ranks, which means I’m basically back to square one. It’s chaos over there.”
“Why is he so reluctant about the deal when his co-founder was so ready to sign?” Kai and I didn’t talk about his work often. He said it would bore me, and I wholeheartedly agreed, but I was genuinely curious about the DigiStream deal.
“Whidby was easy. He wanted the money. Mishra is a purist. He doesn’t want to relinquish control of DigiStream to a corporation who will, quote, unquote,gut it.”
I chose my next words carefully. “Willyou gut it?”
“Not exactly. Their success stems in large part from their culture and team dynamics. I don’t want to ruin that,” Kai said. “But all acquisitions require some form of change from both the buyer and the seller. Their operations have to be streamlined to fit in with the rest of the company.”
“That’s the sticking point,” I surmised.
