Page 61 of Deal Breaker
She looks at me again—longer this time. The fire crackles between us, low and slow. “You said last night that you missed me,” she says softly. “After all these years…do you still feel that way?”
I move closer, slowly, carefully, until there’s only a breath between us. “I don’t miss you, Landyn,” I say. “I ache for you. Every time you walk into a room. Every time you laugh at someone else’s joke. Every time you look at me like I’m a stranger…when we both know I’m not.”
Her breath catches, and I can see it—the crack in the mask she’s been wearing all day.
“I know there’s something you’re not telling me,” I add, voice lower now. “And I’m not asking you to spill it. Not yet. But I’m not backing off either.”
She opens her mouth. Closes it. Swallows hard like the words are there, perched on the edge, but she can’t bring herself to let them fall.
“There you two are!”
We both turn at the same time, instinctively moving a few inches apart as we do.
It’s Claire, one of the panel coordinators, striding toward us with a flute of champagne in one hand and a schedule in the other. She’s relentlessly energetic, the human equivalent of a can of Red Bull, and she’s been trying to corner me since this morning. Her eyes flick between Landyn and me with piqued interest she doesn’t even bother hiding. “You’ve been impossible to pin down tonight, Ford,” she admonishes, lowering her chin so she can look at me over the rims of her thick, black glasses. She turns to Landyn next. “Andyouwere brilliant on the panel earlier. Literally spellbinding!”
Landyn laughs. “Thank you, Claire. Spellbinding. I’ll have to add that to my CV.”
“You absolutely should,” Claire gushes, squeezing Landyn’s arm enthusiastically.
“I agree,” I say to Landyn, trying to suppress a grin.
“Now, don’t run off just yet,” Claire says, stepping in closer. “There’s someone from the VanEdge group I’d love for you both to meet. I told them they do not want to leave this summit without talking to the folks from Cove. They’re very interested in your upcoming fall line.”
“Sounds good, we’ll make sure to find them before we leave,” I tell her.
“No time like the present!” Claire enthuses, not taking the hint. “That’s them at the bar.”
Landyn glances at me briefly, like she’s not sure whether to be relieved or resentful that we’ve been interrupted yet again. And me? I’m pissed that the opportunity to connect with Landyn is gone. Snatched away before it could become something more.
I give Claire a polite nod. “Sure. We’ll be over in a minute.”
She hesitates—clearly wanting to drag us there by thewrists but eventually flashes that polished event-host smile and retreats back toward the crowd.
I glance at Landyn. Her gaze is down, focused on her wine glass. One finger traces the rim slowly, and for the first time tonight, she looks tired. “We don’t have to go,” I murmur. She looks at me then, and our eyes lock.
She shakes her head. “We should. I’m sure Claire has a couple of Bloodhounds on standby if we try to get out of it.”
She’s probably right. Even so, she doesn’t move to leave and neither do I, until a burst of laughter around the fire pit next to us fractures the moment.
The hotel roomis too quiet. I’ve checked my emails three times, flipped mindlessly through a report that Jesse had asked me to go over, watched 20 minutes of a remarkably unfunny sitcom, and took a long shower. I thought maybe the day would catch up with me by now. Exhaust me enough to sleep.
It hasn’t.
It’s just after eleven, and I’m still wound tight. Thoughts spinning, body still buzzing from the way she looked at me out on the terrace tonight. The way she almost told me something. The way she didn’t. I run a hand through my hair, sit on the edge of the bed, and stare at my phone like I can will it to light up.
It doesn’t.
She’s in the room next door, probably doing the same thing—pretending today was just another day. Pretending last night didn’t nearly break us wide open.
I lie back, arm slung over my eyes. Five seconds pass. Then ten.
Then I’m up again, walking toward the window, trying to resist the urge to do the one thing I’ve been telling myself not to do all night. Don’t reach out. Don’t push her. Don’t knock on her door.
I grab my phone anyway.
One message. Simple.
Me: Still up?
