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“Well then, in that case, I think you know what you have to do,” Arnold said, driving his point home.
“I need to talk to Matt.”
Dammit.
Chapter Five
Matt leaned back in his desk chair, his gaze drifting to his weekly schedule on the computer.
To her name.
It wasn’t like he needed to consult the damn schedule to know what his afternoon looked like. He’d been anticipating this one o’clock meeting ever since Liza had called his PA, Henri, a week ago to request it.
It had been almost a month since he’d seen her on New Year’s Eve. Three and a half weeks since he’d piled onto the mistakes he’d made after the gala by kissing her at midnight.
He’d been a fucking idiot because Liza had given him the perfect out that night when she’d questioned him about Patricia. Clearly, she’d seen that stupid article and believed he was back with the annoying socialite.
It would have been the ideal solution to his “How Do I Solve a Problem like Liza?” dilemma.
If it really was a problem.
That was why he’d been anticipating this meeting. It was time for the two of them to clear the air. If Liza was happy to hang on to that “it was a mistake” viewpoint and give him a wide berth, he’d be golden.
But if she wanted more…
He recalled the hope in her eyes after that ill-advised kiss.
He really should have taken the opening she’d provided, lied and told her—in no uncertain terms—that he and Patricia were an item once more.
What he should not have done was kiss her again.
He thought the kiss they’d shared in the elevator had been explosive, but it didn’t hold a candle to the one outside Enigma as snow flurries fell around them.
He glanced at his phone. T-minus twenty minutes until her arrival.
Matt had considered canceling the meeting, telling Liza she could share the foundation’s annual report with him via email. It would have been a perfectly valid request because that was how they always handled reports. The fact she wanted to meet in person told him she was ready for the face-to-face he’d been avoiding.
The sooner he discovered what kind of fallout he could expect from their one-night stand, the better. He hated not having all the information. Going into situations blind was bad in business and in personal affairs. He’d never been the type to pull his punches, so the fact he was doing so with Liza was a problem. One he needed to address.
Of course, regardless of her intentions, Matt’s would remain the same. He wasn’t interested in pursuing anything more.
No. That wasn’t entirely true.
It was more accurate to say he couldn’t pursue anything more.
Because their night together had blown the door he’d kept locked for well over a decade right off the hinges, his nightmares growing more frequent, regret eating away at him like cancer.
The constant drip-drip-drip of water.
Dark red blood congealed on the snowy-white tiles.
Look deeper.
Stop. He shut the images down, then rubbed his eyes wearily. This was why it would be better to let her down easy now rather than let things go too far between them. Because he had no intention of ever letting her see who he really was, nor could he tell her about the things he’d done.
Those were his secrets and he would take them to the grave.
His eyes drifted to his phone again. T-minus nineteen minutes.
