Page 24 of Falling for You Again

“Remember that nonfraternization policy I mentioned?” he says, and I nod. “This is confidential, but a few years back, one of our furniture curators was having an affair with the sales director. They’d worked out a scheme where he was stealing pieces, pocketing cash on the side, and she covered for him, manipulating the numbers on her reports. Long story short, the company lost a lot of money, and the incident sparked company-wide conversations about boundaries between employees and the importance of maintaining a balance between work and personal life, especially if the couple works together.”

“Which is impossible,” I interject.

“Needless to say, HR put a nonfraternization policy into place, and it’s actively enforced. We can’t legally ban coworkers from dating, but it’s strongly discouraged.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“If we get married, there’s a viable chance Savant will retract its interest in acquiring your uncle’s shop.”

“That’s slightly extra in terms of strategy, but my interest is piqued. On what grounds would us being married deter Savant?”

“Off the top of my head: conflict of interest, lack of transparency, corporate governance.” He ticks off his fingers. “I’m sure there’s more.”

But marriage? His strategy seems a tad drastic. I should be freaking out and racing for the nearest door. He’s proposing to me! (Is this a proposal?) The only reason I’m not panicking is because this is familiar territory for us. Maybe “our thing” is to do the outrageous.

I tap a bacon slice against the plate rim. There has to be an alternative solution. “Why can’t you just tell your company to not buy the shop? You are the COO.”

“I don’t have final say with acquisitions. Before we move forward with a letter of intent, we must have CEO or board approval, depending on how significant the financial investment is. Legal is another matter. While a letter of intent isn’t binding, there could be legal consequences if it’s retracted without proper justification. Something I’m already risking by proposing this. What’s to stop your uncle from suing us for malicious intent? But”—he continues before I can ask why he’s willing to put his job and company reputation on the line for my sake—“our marriage could dissuade the board’s interest due to undisclosed conflicts, like employee favoritism, nepotism, and all that BS.”

“You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”

He dips his head until our eyes are level. “I was up all night.”

“If I’d known that ...” I give him a flirty wink.

He groans and finishes his coffee.

“Why would you do this for me?” He isn’t proposing a twenty-four-hour dare. This could last longer, much longer. He’s also risking a lot—lawsuits, company reputation, his credibility. “What’s in it for you? And don’t say more of what we did last night.” I point my fork at him and his pained expression is comical. “Won’t this piss off your parents?”

“Absolutely.”

“You want to piss them off?”

“To say they’ll be displeased when they learn Fallon and I broke off our engagement is an understatement. My mom will be on my case until we’re back together. But if I’m already married ...”

“Oh boy. They’re going to love me,” I drawl.

“They’d be stupid not to. Either way, when it comes to my family, I will stand beside you, behind you, and up for you. You have my word.”

Our list.

I stare at Aaron before looking at my plate. I nudge the eggs with my fork as an odd, unusual feeling washes over me. Never has anyone advocated for me so profoundly. What if ...

Stop right there, Meli.

I’m not really considering this, am I? Marrying Aaron? Again! Yes, he’s sweet and nice and gorgeous. He smells incredible and is phenomenal in bed. But marriage? Haven’t I confirmed it isn’t something for people like me? I’d risk losing myself in a relationship again. I’d risk being forced to choose between him and my craft.

Wait. Wouldn’t I be marryingformy work?

“I’d never let my family hurt you.” Aaron’s certainty interrupts my conflicting thoughts.

I look at him, and once again I feel that unsettling sensation that he understands me like no one else. That he sees inside me, the real me. The me who’s frightened. Can he sense how deeply my parents once hurt me? How they continue to make me feel like I’m not enough to be truly loved and valued?

“I still can’t believe your parents were forcing you to marry Fallon,” I say, turning the attention back on him. He’s studying me too intently.

“I wouldn’t sayforcing. More likestrongly encouraging.”

“Still. It’s your life. You have the right to do what you want with it.” We both do.

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