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Wayne nods and types rapidly on his computer.
When the screen shows that bar chart, my heart sinks. We might be down six percent overall by the time the year is done.Fortunemagazine isn’t going to like it going down like that. “What about adding this latest acquisition from Home Away from Home? I know it’s not a done deal, yet, but—”
Elizabeth shifts in her chair and scratches a finger over her sticker-covered water bottle. “Those numbersareincluding all of the acquisitions.”
Who ever thought it was a good idea to start adding stickers to water bottles? It’s a stupid trend.
I can’t lose it right here in this meeting, but I’m starting to seriously wonder if those projections are wrong. Maybe they were too conservative. Maybe if we run the numbers again with different variables, it won’t be as bad.
With my chest turning to ice, I sigh. I don’t consciously mean to, but I realize when the meeting’s nearly over that I have been avoiding Elianna’s gaze.
Things are not going my way with this. I don’t know if hitting the list is going to happen, especially if things stay status quo.
Chapter 25
Elianna
Sebastian and I leave the boardroom after the disappointing forecasting meeting. My mind is a tumble of thoughts and worries.
Sebastian hired me on during the biggest moment of his life . . . his quest for the Deca Arete list. I have a responsibility to help him get there in my own way. Yeah, I know I’m not as important to us reaching the goal as maybe the accounting, finance, or tax departments, but still, I feel a grave responsibility.
We’re talking about Sebastian’s dreams here, and I don’t take that lightly.
Which is part of the reason why, as we head back to our office, that I wish I could reach out and squeeze his hand. But, despite there being lots of hand-holding in private, we’ve been good to stay professional in public.
Besides, Rowena—who pronounces her name “Ro-when-a”—is ahead of us as we make our way to the elevator. I think she has eyes in the back of her head. Or she’s stashed some hidden cameras around the resort.
Because I feel like sheknows.
She’s been giving me the stink eye since I met her my first day back after the Sickpocolypse. I know she knows I don’t have a ton of experience. And that’s one thing. But I swear she knows about Sebastian and me, and that freaks me out.
No one can know about us. I hate that. But I know it’s necessary for right now.
I like what he and I have. We respect and genuinely care about each other. I’ve never felt this way before. But we haven’t exactly had a talk to name what’s going on with us, which is probably due to equal parts fear and being busy with work.
I don’t think Rowena has ever seen us kissing behind the janitor closet door, or in the elevator (next to the door right before it opens, there’s a blind spot for about three seconds that the cameras can’t see), or on the beach on the other side of cabana number four. There are perks—security camera intel among many, many other things—to secretly dating the owner of the resort.
And Ihavefallen for him. He’s so tender and kind and even though his kisses tempt and taunt me and fill me with the most sugary, craveable butterflies imaginable, he’s been a quintessential gentleman. There’s no hint to his grumpiness of days past when we’re together, kissing. And it’s only kisses, which I’m thankful we both agree is the only way this is playing out right now.
We arrive at the top-floor office, and I can’t touch him or reassure him in here since our unspoken rule of not kissing in this room. We have to have standards—Sebastian is all about the standards.
The door closes behind us and suddenly, his shoulders creep up to his ears. He’s practically boiling over with . . . what? Worry? Heartache? Embarrassment?
“Rough meeting, eh?” I grab my water bottle and take a long drag. I turn to the side so it doesn’t seem like I’m staring him down. I know his pride could have been wounded by all of that.
He shoots out a joyless laugh, like my words are an understatement. “I’m surprised at how low things looked. I knew it was bad, but I didn’t know it was that bad. I don’t like being caught off guard.”
“I’m sorry.” I really want to wrap him in my arms and maybe kiss his neck a little, that place that’s so smooth and taut, right above his collarbone.
But I can’t. Not in here.
“I have some decisions to make,” he says. “We need to be doing more to increase our chances of hitting the list.”
“Agreed,” I say. “But you’re not actually thinking of firing people, are you?”
He flicks a look at me, and if it’s possible, his shoulders have crept up even higher. The man needs to do some deep breathing and yoga.
“No—” He hesitates, turning to face the window. “But we have to be more aggressive. It’s the end of September, Elianna. There’s not much time. We have to be willing to make sacrifices.”
