Page 61 of Charm

“There are three in the holder by the door.” He jerks his chin up. “Keep your hands off of them. Get a drink, take a seat wherever the hell you want, and relax. I put the food in the fridge for now. We can work on it together when I’m done.”

“Deal,” I whisper, testing how the word feels on my tongue.

I may never agree to a business deal with this man, but being here with him like this feels right at this moment.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Holden

Greer popsthe last olive into her mouth, smiling as she chews. “This was delicious.”

She’s right about that. Usually, I pick up a sandwich and a coffee on my way home after pulling an all-nighter at the office, but today called for something different. Not only because I had Greer by my side when I walked into my apartment, but Declan is a dad, and that’s put me in a feel good mood all day.

I may be exhausted, but I’m still awake, and the happiest I’ve been since I left East Hampton.

“I agree.” I pour another splash of champagne into her flute before doing the same in mine. “We should toast.”

“Again?” She picks up her glass. “I lost track, but I think you’ve already toasted to Gilbert Wells at least four times.”

She’s likely right, but the next toast isn’t in celebration of Declan and Abby’s son. This toast is all about her.

I grab my glass and raise it in the air. “To you, Greer.”

“To me?” She holds off on clinking her glass against the side of mine. “For what?”

“For existing.” I go the extra step and lightly tap my glass against hers.

I down the entire contents in one gulp. There’s just something about champagne that makes it go down so fucking easy.

Her glass is still in the air. I can’t help but notice her hand is now trembling.

“What’s wrong?” I ask softly.

“We can’t go back to where we were in East Hampton, Holden.”

She made it clear before we said our goodbyes after our weekend together that I was a part of her past. Now, I’m not.

“We can’t,” I agree. “Is there a chance we can move forward as something more than what we are now?”

“What are we now?” The question rushes out of her.

Before I can formulate a response, she’s sliding off the chair she’s been sitting on next to my dining table.

I stand, too.

Her gaze drops to the jeans and T-shirt I’m wearing. I bought the shirt last year from a vendor who was selling her wares at a market in Brooklyn. Kirby desperately wanted a pink one in her size because it was adorned with a picture of a rainbow. She chose a matching one for me that is blue. I don’t wear it often, but it’s comfortable.

“We’re two people who like each other.” I test the waters. “We’re two people who liked fucking each other.”

Her eyes widen. “Holden!”

“I’m not lying.” I chuckle. “We had fun, Greer. Let’s have more fun.”

She shakes her head. “While you’re trying to steal my business away from me? No, thank you.”

I step closer to where she’s standing. I’m close enough that I could circle her waist with my hands, but I don’t. Instead, I crossmy arms over my chest. “I’m trying to buy your business at a very fair price. Our offer is incredibly generous.”

She doesn’t argue that point.

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