“What do you mean?”
I looked up at him, “Just curious, have you ever offered to buy anyone out?”
He jerked back. “Why would I do that? I have no interest in running a firm. I just want to make a profit and move on.”
I nodded, suspecting that was the case. “Maybe you should let him know that.”
“Hmm…” He pulled me off the bridge when we reached the end and held my hand to help me step over a puddle. “So, can I ask what’s been on your mind? he asked.
I shrugged. “Nothing specific. I’m working on a project that’s um…launching in just a few weeks…and then, I don’t know. Might be time for a change of pace.”
He nodded, pushing a strand of hair away from my face. “It’s not who you are anymore.”
I looked at him in surprise. “You remembered.”
“Every word,” he assured me softly. “I’m here with expert advice if you ever feel like sharing.” He took both my hands. “Isabel, I hope by now you know you can trust me. But I’m patient if you still have… reservations.”
I bit my lip, wishing so badly that I could. My chest squeezed as a cool November breeze rustled the leaves off the trees and sprinkled around us.
I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him, silently deciding that giving him up now was not something I trusted myself to handle. Not without adversely affecting my biggest event ever. “I’m getting closer, I promise.”
But there was one thing that had been on my mind since Sunday. “What’s the story with you and Ron Brightman? Are you…related?”
“Why would you think that?”
“You just seemed to have a very informal interaction. It wasn’t exactly business.”
He laughed. “Can’t get one past you,” he rubbed his face again. “Uh…distantly—oh so much distance.”
“Distantly related.” I released a slow breath. “A story for another day, I guess.”
“Aren’t they all,justIsabel,” he raised an eyebrow.
A stronger breeze hit my veins and I slid my arms through his jacket, embracing his warmth. He raked his fingers through my hair and held me.
We stood there for a moment before he kissed the top of my head. “Will you come by later for dinner at my place?” his voice was low.
I smiled at him. “Cooking or take out?”
“Depends on how the former goes,” he winked.
25
SCOTT
I spentmost of Friday at Hayes Enterprises working on my end of the deal. Donovan had nothing to gain out of the agreement, but offered me his contacts, use of resources and to be present during any follow up meetings with Claudia Heart on the Ballard event.
I shook my head. That man really was beginning to resemble a dirty old man.
“Kat,” I called from my old office on the executive floor, which Donovan never bothered to fill after I’d left his firm. Heck my nameplate was still on the door.
She stepped in, her expression professional as always, but there was a hint of something else there. If I didn’t know any better, she appeared to be slightly annoyed.
I couldn’t decide what bothered me more, the fact that I might have done something to agitate her, or the fact that I even noticed. I rephrased the original command in my head and softened my tone. “Would you mind letting me know when his meeting is over? I need to get his thoughts on something.”
She blinked and jerked her head slightly. “Um...of course, yes, will do,” she replied and walked back to her desk leaving my door slightly ajar.
The young woman didn’t work for me but I made a mental note to get her a Christmas bonus next month.
