Page 121 of Love Not Qualified

Tristan looked up from the papers in front of him, bags resting under his eyes. He put the pen down and his eyes traveled all over my body. I swallowed, pretending I didn’t see.

He cleared his throat, then pointed at the chair in front of his desk. I gave him a wobbly smile, then sat down. “Things are mostly the same since you left, but there are two new things we’ll integrate this month. The first one is the project you currently know everything about, but we’ll start from scratch with professionals. I expect that we can find the right people by the end of the month—that gives us three full weeks until Christmas. And the second will require your assistance every time Ryker is around. I decided to bring him to work two times a week so he could be prepared if he ever wants to join the company.”

I nodded, relieved at how professional he was and also glad that he was involving his brother more. When he kept talking, I scooped a notebook and a pen from my bag and took some notes.

I wasn’t sure how much time we spent talking and going over the details, but if I was honest with myself, I was beyond excited. We had a long road ahead, but Tristan’s ideas seemed promising and I was there to make sure they became reality.

“Any questions?” He raised his brows once he was done.

My eyes swept to the list in my notebook. “Do you have a list of potential partners I can reach out to? Do you only want to create a race car or sell the model afterward? Do you?—”

“Yes, I do. And I don’t know yet. We have five years to figure everything out and that’s why I don’t have every detail covered now. We’ll work together until we have a perfect outline of what we want to do, then we act.”

I nodded. “Makes sense.” I folded my stuff and put them back in my bag.

“I’ve sent you a few emails with a couple of links for research, potential costs, retired drivers, and more. Gather as much information as possible and create a structured document.”

“Got it.” I got up on my feet, eager to get to the office. “On it,” I told him with a smile, then turned on my heels.

“Haelyn.” His voice echoed from behind. I took a deep breath, treating him with my back because I knew whatever he had to say wasn’t work-related. “I want to ask you something that is not professional by any means.”

My eyelids closed and my chest fell with the long exhale.

Goddamn it, Tristan. It went so smoothly until now.

Why did he have to ruin it when I really thoughtthiswas possible?

“I don’t think you should,” I breathed out, biting my bottom lip.

When the room fell quiet and he didn’t insist, I took it as my cue to walk out. My knees were shaking and my heart turned into a rapid fire of beats.

What did he want to ask? Why was I curious?

Ughhhhhhhhh.

As I got in front of my old office, I tried my fingerprint with no expectations of it actually opening it, but a buzzing sound opened the door.

Did he not hire anyone else after me? Or did he not give the office to someone else? Would he…?

I hesitantly stepped in and was met by complete darkness, cold air whooshing straight to my face. Just by the feel of it, it was clear that no one had stepped foot in this room since I left.

With a locked breath, I switched the lights on and what I saw was not what I expected to find. Apart from the fact that the office was exactly how I left it—golden blindings, golden mouse pad, a couple of books on the desk, and my strawberry gum package—if I walked just the tiniest bit forward, I would’ve tripped over the mass of roses.

They were everywhere on the floor; how did I not smell them the moment I stepped in?

I was frozen in front of the door, not sure what to do. My bag fell off my shoulder as I blinked repeatedly, hoping it was just in my imagination. Yet no matter how many times I closed and opened my eyes, the hundreds of roses were still mere inches from my feet.

A sigh fell past my lips.

Why did he have to complicate things?

The gesture was sweet—I knew that by the way my pulse skyrocketed—but it was far from professional. It didn’t matter that my knees weakened or that my untaken breath formed a lob in my throat, I wasn’t ready to forgive him.

A part of me knew I partially got over what he had done, but there was something else keeping me at distance from him. Could it be my past? Could it be the fear of failure? I didn’t know.

For all I knew, this could be a game to him. A woman who rejected him and didn’t drop to her knees the moment he apologized? A challenge. Men loved challenges and as much as my body responded to everything Tristan did, my mind decided I wasn’t going to be that for a man.

I already was a bed warmer once and a challenge wasn’t far from it.

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