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Like maybe he’s so used to it being this way he doesn’t know how to imagine anything else. Just him and his small, distant house crew... but does that mean it’s what he wants forever?
I don’t know if Shepherd evenknowswhat he wants.
“Your girl won’t jump our plates, will she? Time to eat.” He carries two thick, ceramic plates of steaming food over to this massive wooden table and lays them down.
Once I’m sure I’ve got Mol settled with an antler chew I fish out of my bag, I sit down across from him.
I’m not expecting to be totally bowled over.
The steak melts in my mouth, and I melt with it.
Even the wine he’s paired it with is on point, elevating the meal from awesome surprise to exquisite shock and awe.
“I prefer a rosé,” he explains as he takes a long sip, staring over the edge of his glass.
“Oh, so you’re not a traditionalist.” I smile into my own sip, and it’s so good I could die.
I’ve always been a bit of a wine snob—probably comes with the territory when you grow up rich—and this ticks all my boxes.
“Not for everything, Dess. Sometimes a man must be inventive.”
I look at the glass, running my finger over the slight condensation, letting the slight sharp bite of chill ground me.
“Well, this is nice and all, but should we get down to it? Talk damage control? You must have something in mind, but I’ll go first.” I take a deep breath. “I decided to feel out Meghan via DM personally since we were acquainted before all this. I’ve asked her if she’s willing to hear my side to consider a retraction.”
His face turns up sharply, but not with the anger I half expected.
“You think she’ll go for it?” he asks.
“I don’t know. Maybe. I don’t think she’s abadperson exactly, though she likes to play one for views. This sort of thing is her brand, sharing gossip and tea, but I know she calls it human interest.” I pause and sigh. “I really don’t know if she’ll consider a truce. But there’s no harm in correcting the facts since there’s nothing much hidden anymore. No harm in trying, right?”
He chews slowly as he considers it, his muscular jaw working.
“If that doesn’t work, we’ll go direct. Put out a joint statement about adapting our product for conservation work and get the sea otter trip into the press release,” Shepherd says with a stoic coolness I can’t imagine feeling. “We’ll be clear it’s a work excursion without denying the claims head-on. In fact, we should do that even if Meghandoesretract,” he adds.
My blood pressure rises. I’m speechless.
“You mean there’s still a chance at adapting—well, anything? Like moving forward with the tracking drones?”
He gives me another dry, heart-stopping smile. Reserved yet amused.
“I meant what I said, Destiny. It was a perfect presentation.”
“But it isn’t up to you. The board...” I trail off.
“Consider them convinced. I was open and honest, and I told them if they wanted to can me from being CEO, be my guest. I also made it clear there was real merit in your idea, and raising the company’s global profile is a certainty if we give it a chance. What reason would they have for letting some he-said, she-said bullshit stand in the way of progress?”
Wow. Is that a hint of smugness in his voice?
I’m still too flabbergasted to speak.
“You can guess which way they came down,” he continues. “Mrs. Medlin texted me two hours ago with their decision. With so many companies fixated on their public reputation for sustainability and mitigating environmental damage, it’s too brilliant to ignore. You handed them a golden ticket, woman.”
I flop back in my chair, raking a hand over my face.
Shepherd clears his throat. “Are you okay?”
“Holy shit. Yeah.” I crack one eye open and stare. “You’re being completely serious, right? Like this isn’t some horrible story just to make me feel better?”
