Stop it, Helena. This is just a casual lunch.
Casual or not, heat pulsed between her legs at the thought of dressing for Tele’s pleasure…and of being undressed by him. Hot with nervous anticipation, she untied her burgundy cardigan from around her shoulders and draped it over the back of her chair.
“Éna mesimerianó íne, típota parapáno,” Helena whispered, teasing open the collar of her sweater to cool herself. It’s just lunch, nothing more…
It was exactly noon when she spotted him crossing the street and heading toward the restaurant’s revolving door. Her breath caught in her throat as he took long, confident strides in his charcoal gray slacks and a crisp white shirt, unbuttoned at the top beneath a black fleece jacket.
Helena straightened her spine, tucked her phone into her purse, and smoothed her hair in its ponytail one last time. “Éna mesimerianó íne.”
* * *
With only a one-hour window before his next meeting, Tele had called the waitress over before he’d even reached the table, and they’d ordered on the fly as he sat.
“The usual,” he’d said, which apparently meant a medium-rare ribeye and, on the waitress’ recommendation, she’d gone for the salmon. It had felt rushed, and Helena had begun to fear that she might have read too much into his desire to see her. But once the server brought their iced teas, they fell into conversation as naturally as breathing.
“I’m really sorry about what happened with Raph,” he said, pouring two packets of sugar into his glass, his voice carrying genuine sympathy. “I know that must have been difficult.”
“Thanks.” She laid her napkin across her lap, her gaze lowered, unwilling to let slip that Raph breaking up with her had been more of a blessing than a curse. “I’m just glad you agreed to see me. I wasn’t sure if this would be awkward…”
“Maybe for Raph.”
Helena blinked and looked up, searching his green eyes for the reason behind his surprising remark.
“So…” He winked. “It’s a good thing he’s not here.” That familiar, playful smile spread across his face like the sunrise.
Oh, how she’d missed that smile.
Helena laughed, realizing that lightening the mood had been Tele’s intention all along.
That was only one of the things she loved about him.
As they waited for lunch to arrive, Tele told her about his latest project, a mixed-use development in Boulder that would integrate affordable housing with retail space. His eyes lit up as he described the community gardens they were planning, and the way the buildings would complement the natural landscape instead of dominating it.
And as they ate, she shared with him stories from her recent travels, the long-thought-destroyed Egon Schiele she’d discovered at an estate sale in Bel Air, and the emerging painter she’d stumbled upon on the tiny Cyclade island of Sifnos, whose sculptures were now being courted by dozens of galleries across Europe.
“You light up when you talk about your work” he said, leaning back in his chair.
Her lips parted in a wide smile as pleasant memories of that day flooded her. “It’s like finding hidden treasure––when I discover a new artist or secure a piece for a client or gallery. When I find someone whose work deserves to be seen…” She paused, trying to find words that best described the feeling. “It’s like I’m connecting pieces of the world that belong together.”
“That’s a beautiful thought, Helena. You have a beautiful way of looking at the world, you know that?”
The words were soft, deliberate. She held his gaze and knew then that whatever connections existed between them were not dead, but full of life and possibilities.
Helena felt a sense of completeness with Tele, and looking into his eyes was like coming home. She could see their future together––a house filled with happy children, a life overflowing with joy, both of them choosing to make new memories. Not dwelling on who or what they’d lost.
“Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t you come up to Boulder with me.”
“What? Now?” Helena set down her fork, the silver tines clinking softly against her plate.
“Yes now. Right now. We can get our dessert to-go. I want to show you the proposed site. You can tell me if I’ve made the right connections there.”
“But I don’t know anything about construction. Raph––” She flinched. Damnit.
Tele’s mouth twisted slightly at the mention of his brother.
Helena shifted in her seat. “We didn’t really talk about G3 business…”
He reached for his iced tea, slurping up the last drops through the straw. “Well,” he said, setting the empty glass on the table. “I’m sure he was just afraid your ideas would outshine his. I, on the other hand, have absolutely no ego what-so-ever.”
