Page 4 of One Time in Paris
Every time they sat across from each other at a meal, Aiden remembered the way she stabbed her food, and the way it made him feel. Like she was going to turn the tines of that fork on him someday if he pushed hard enough.
“The last time?—”
“The last time was the last time. We agreed to that. I don’t want your scraps, Aiden. And I mean it. I’m here only as a favor to my father.”
Somehow, he didn’t believe her.
Just like he didn’t believe the messiness of their relationship hadn’t affected the acquisition of Ipolymer Synthetics. Jorge had been advising the board of Ipolymer, andsomehoweverything about the deal had just gotten messier after the last breakup with Lola.
He undid the top button of his collar and leaned forward, the blast of the air-conditioning not nearly strong enough to keep the sweat from dampening his neck. “Listen, I really don’t have time for this. I have back-to-back meetings scheduled during this convention. Yes, we want Ipolymer—we need them. But that doesn’t mean we won’t walk from the negotiations if?—”
“Like I said, he’s coming. You and I don’t need to hash out the details now; Daddy’s on his way. I just thought it would be nice for us to grab a cup of coffee and catch up.” She flashed a perfectly innocent smile at him—if he could believe anything Lo did was innocent.
Hell, innocent and Lo Salas were the two furthest terms from each other in the dictionary, and he knew that from experience.
But thinking about her that way now won’t help anything.
That lack of innocence had been precisely what had roped him back in—not once, not twice, but four times.
A chance meeting. A tempting smile. A reminder of how good they’d been together. And every damn time, he’d fallen for it, conveniently forgetting how ruthless she could be. Then at dinner or at the till at a market, she’d remind him—an offhanded insult, a condescending remark. And just like that, the spell would break.
Not this time, though.
This time, the ambush wouldn’t work.
This time, he was here for a damn work convention, and hopefully, he’d close the acquisition with Ipolymer before returning home to London.
He wasnothere to make a massive mistake with a woman.
But he’d be nowhere closer to that acquisition if he pissed Lola off enough.
He glared down at his coffee, wishing he’d ordered the tea he really wanted. But the last time he’d ordered tea at a coffee shop in the US, the damn thing had taken a full half hour to cool to a drinkable temperature, and he’d still scalded his tongue on the first sip.
“I know that look,” Lola said, her voice suddenly softer. “You don’t have to be so angry. Is it wrong for me to want to know how you are?”
“I’m not angry.” Aiden frowned at her. “I just don’t think this is particularly productive. The last time I saw you, Ipolymer walked away from the negotiating table the next day. It’s taken me a full eight weeks to get them back for discussions. I can’t afford for my personal life to have an impact on the business dealings of Camden Enterprises.”
Her hazel eyes darkened. “If you’re implying that my father did anything illegitimate as a result of our last breakup, that’s just disgusting.”
Fuck.The bloody woman was putting him in a damned-if-you-do, damned-if-you-don’t situation.
“Lo, I really don’t want to do this again.”
She changed her tactic, her eyes growing shiny. “You won’t even have coffee with me? Really, Aiden? Is that how things are? Coffee for fifteen minutes while my father—whose plane landed late, I might add—gets settled into his hotel room? You’re unbelievable.”
Aiden pressed his lips to a line.Mayday. Bloody mayday.
But no one would be coming to save him because he was thirty-one years old, and if he couldn’t manage a civil coffee with his ex, he had no business running a multinational defense contracting corporation. He settled on a neutral, “I don’t know what to say.”
She stood, crumpling her napkin onto her plate.
Dammit.
“Lola, hang on?—”
“No, we’re done here. I can see from your expression that this was a massive mistake.” She shook her head, a scowl on her pretty face. “Honestly, Aiden, you’re such a man-child. You can’t even handle sitting with me civilly. It’s ridiculous.”
“It’s not about not sitting with you. I’ve just got loads of meetings, and I’m not here for pleasure. Vegas isn’t my dream destination. I’m here for a convention, and that’s it.”
