Page 189 of Never Let You Go

Turning around to face the room, I open and close my mouth twice, without any effect.

Barbara jumps in, closes the door behind Christopher, and introduces him as the consultant for Red Barn’s Makeover—as we are now calling it—and also as the baker who made all the breads and confections everyone’s started sampling.

I plop back in my seat. People follow suit, and I let Christopher take over the meeting. He wraps his jacket on the back of a chair, then chooses to stand in the middle of the circle. The sleeves of his crisp white shirt are rolled up to his elbows, and his aviator sunglasses hang from the top button of his shirt, reflecting the light.

The moment he starts talking, he owns the room.

No one seems to notice my reaction to his presence. People are too busy staring at him, drinking in his words. Everyone is mesmerized by his charisma, his passion, his ideas. He makes this conference room look small.

I should probably be interjecting, commenting, proposing, but my mind is racing in all sorts of directions. Did I read him right? Is he really here because of me?

His voice rumbles softly across the room. He’s standing in the middle of the circle, slowly walking around.

My heartbeat is so loud the people sitting next to me must hear it.

“… being in tune with the communities that each bakery serves,” he’s saying. “Let’s be mindful of established traditions while adjusting to newcomers.”

Or is he here only because Barbara begged him to? She would be one to guilt-trip him.

For all his groveling over video, part of it might have been out of guilt and worry and part of it due to alcohol.

Until we’ve talked this through, I don’t know what the future holds for us.

I can’t know how he really feels about me.

If he wants anything other than a consulting gig.

He’s turned one-eighty now, and I lift my eyes to him.

His gaze rakes over me. I uncross and recross my bare legs.

I need to keep it together.

Maybe he’s just here as a consultant. He did call me Ms. Pierce, after all.

God, I can’t wait for his presentation to be over.

“Happy Fourth of July! Enjoy the long weekend if I don’t see you tomorrow,” I tell everyone as they file out of the room with wide smiles. “We have a long road ahead, but we have a solid road map.”

I have a good feeling about Red Barn Baking now.

But as Barbara exits the room and closes the door behind me, leaving me alone with Christopher, I don’t know where to even begin the conversation with him.

It’s so strange, seeing him right here. You’d think he would seem out of place, but he doesn’t. Not at all.

He props himself against the table in the back, his gaze hungrily devouring me.

I take a tentative step toward him, then another, through the maze of chairs strewn across the room.

He doesn’t say anything, so I stop.

He extends his hand and pushes himself from the table.

In an instant, my hand reaches his, our fingers twine, and we both freeze.

“Is it true what you said, on the videos?”

He pulls me closer to him. “You saw them?” he asks, his voice betraying his surprise, his lips curling up.

---