He tilts his head. “You think that’s the solution? She couldn’t get away from you fast enough today.”
He’s right about that, but I’m willing to risk being told off by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. “Tomorrow is another day. I’ll reach out to her then.”
“I can feel Sweet Indulgence slipping away from me.”
If he weren’t smiling right now, I’d feel like shit, but we’re in this together. Sometimes things go as planned. At other times, they shoot straight to hell at high speed.
“Do what you can,” he says as he stands. “I trust you to do what’s right for the company, Holden, but more importantly, what’s right for you.”
“What’s right for me?”
“You like this woman.” He tucks his hands into the front pocket of his pants. “Something tells me behind all that anger, she likes you, too.”
“She likes Joe Campbell.”
Jameson snorts, his hand jumping to cover his mouth to restrain his laughter. “That’s such a bad fake name, Holden. You’ve been using that since you were what? Eighteen?”
“Nineteen,” I correct him. “It’s a solid name.”
Agree to disagree on that.” His head shakes. “Out of curiosity, what was Greer’s fake name?”
“That’s none of your business,” I say because for some reason I want to keep it to myself.
“You do like her,” he says. “Don’t try, and deny it. Work out a deal with her. We can up the offer if need be.”
I’m well aware of that, so I nod. “I’ll talk to Greer tomorrow.”
I don’t bother adding on that I can’t fucking wait to do that. I’ll be counting the hours until I’m standing face-to-face with her again.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Greer
We exitthe building without one word passing between us. I know Krista is heartbroken. I hate that. Causing her pain is the last thing I want to do, but I felt as though I was tossed into a lion’s cage when I walked into that meeting room.
“Krista.” I grab her shoulder from behind before she can rush off. “Stop, please.”
“Why?” Her voice carries over the late morning hum in the heart of Manhattan.
People mill about around us. Cars pass by on the street, and the constant noises of the city surround us, but none of it drowns out the pain in her tone.
“I have to talk to you,” I say calmly. “Please turn around.”
She does, and I’m met with bloodshot, reddened eyes. It’s an instant reminder of the day Celia died. I was the one who broke the news to Krista. On that cold, rainy afternoon, she’d stared at me, trying to understand what I had just said. I was trying to do the same. I struggled to piece together how my vibrant best friend, who had so much to look forward to in life, was no longerlaughing, planning, and gushing about everything the future had in store for her.
I pull Krista close, hugging her tightly. “I’m sorry, Krista.”
Her arms circle me much the same way they did when we lost Cels. “I’m at a loss for what happened back there. The way you acted was so… it wasn’t like you at all, Greer. I’m really confused.”
The calmness in her voice gives me hope. Maybe we can get through this. Maybe there’s a chance she’ll give me the answers I need.
“I’m confused, too,” I say.
“About what?” she asks, her eyes searching my face for something. Maybe it’s a clue as to why I was so rude in the meeting or why I ended it so abruptly.
“When exactly did you connect with the Sheppards?” I ask tentatively because I don’t want her to shut down on me.
“A few months ago, I guess.” She looks toward a passing taxi. “Can we talk about all of this later? I feel overwhelmed right now. I don’t know how I’ll be able to make the move to LA work without this sale.”