Page 25 of Deal Breaker
I exhale sharply through my nose. “Fine. Let’s go. I’ll meet you at the elevator in ten.”
She doesn’t flinch at my tone, which is harsher than I meant it to be. She just nods and then steps aside to let me by her, like this isn’t a bad idea for everyone involved.
She’s waiting by the elevator ten minutes later, a tablet in one hand. Her hair is swept up, a few blonde pieces framing her face, and when our eyes meet, something shifts. Less ice. Less steel. Just…her.
We nod at each other—my peace offering from earlier in the week still holding. The silence between us in the truck isn’t uncomfortable this time. It’s filled with something unspoken but not unkind. The drive is one I’ve made countless times, but today it feels different. I notice the way Landyn turns to watch the trees blur past, how she tucks her lip between her teeth when she’s thinking. I’d forgotten that about her.
I decide instead of sitting here, next to her, locked up in my own head, I should suck it up and say something—anything—to make this drive less unbearable.
“You’re gonna like the site,” I say, eyes still on the road. “It’s on a beautiful piece of property in the country. Makes the build headaches feel worth it.”
She turns to me, maybe surprised that I’m speaking to her. “I’ve seen photos, but yeah, I’m looking forward to seeing it in person.”
“And you’re getting out of the office,” I tell her. “A reward for surviving a full week with Jesse.”
She laughs, and it’s warm. It’s real. “God love him, he’s a lot.”
“He’s the kind of ‘a lot’ that sells product. But yeah…I’ve considered shoving him in a storage closet more than once.”
She’s still smiling when we pull into the site, and I kill the engine. It’s quiet for now—lunch break for the crew—which gives us some time.
She steps out of the truck, the gravel crunching under her heels, and she stumbles slightly, catching herself with a hand on the truck door.
“You good?” I ask, rounding to her side.
“Fine. Just my incredibly professional entrance,” she says with a grimace. “I’m probably not dressed for the occasion.”
I reach out, steadying her elbow. “I mean, you were always a little clumsy. Some things don’t change.”
Her gaze flicks up to mine. There’s something there. Familiar. Unspoken.
We walk the site side by side. I point out the glass-walled design center, the production wall where the solar arrays are going to be installed along the roofline. Landyn listens, asking smart questions and nodding like she’smentally redesigning our whole strategy. It shouldn’t affect me, but it does. Her being here, being part of this legacy. When it’s done, Landyn will have played a part in making it happen.
We stop at the overlook, the green valley laid out before us eventually erupting into layers of towering, deep blue mountains. But I find myself watching her more than the view. The wind pulls at a loose piece of her hair, and before I can think twice, I reach over and gently tuck it behind her ear.
She looks at me, startled.
“Thanks,” she says quietly.
And for once, I don’t look away. We don’t say much as we walk the rest of the site, but the silence feels different now—charged, somehow. Like we’re standing on the edge of something neither of us know what to do with.
By the time we make it back to the truck, the sun has shifted overhead and a few of the crew have returned, nodding as we pass. Landyn’s quiet, and I get the sense she’s lost in her own thoughts.
We drive back with the windows down. She kicks off her shoes, tucking one leg under her on the seat like she’s been doing this forever. I catch her glancing my way once or twice, and when we hit a stretch of road lined by pines, she finally speaks.
“It really is impressive,” she says. “What you’ve built. What you’re continuing to build.”
I glance at her for a moment before turning my eyes back to the road,“We’ve still got a ways to go.”
“Still,” she continues, looking out the window. “You did it. Even when no one thought you could.” She turns to me, and for a moment, the air between us feels heavy again. “I didn’t mean me. I never doubted you, Ford. Not once. Youknow, it wasn’t just the dream of the company that meant something to me back then.”
I stare straight ahead, but my pulse kicks up.
“Don’t,” I say, quietly.
But she keeps looking at me, like she’s trying to find the version of me she left behind.
“Ford…”
