Page 5 of Deal Breaker
I grip the steering wheel tighter.
Deep Cove has always been beautiful. Rugged, a bit isolated. People live here for the views, the ocean, the high-end hiking and world-class skiing. But underneath it all, it’s still a small town. You can’t hide here… especially not from a girl who you’ve never been able to forget.
My place is just outside town. A sharp-lined cedar and stone home tucked into the hills with a view of the ocean. I built it three years ago, right after Cove really took off. Everyone said I should’ve moved to Vancouver, but I didn’t want noise. I wanted quiet. Solitude. Control.
I pour a drink. Neat. Two fingers of the whiskey I save for nights when everything feels like it might snap. This feels like one of those nights.
I take the glass outside, lean against the railing of the deck, and inhale the cool, crisp night.
From here, I can see the lights of town starting to glow against the night sky. It’s peaceful. It should be enough to settle my nerves. But there’s a hollowness in my chest that hasn’t eased since Landyn walked into that conference room like no time had passed. Like we didn’t fall apart without warning.
When she left, it almost destroyed me. She had a reason.She must have. For years the not knowing has haunted me. But now that she’s back, all I can think about is how much I’ve missed her.
I drain the glass and don’t let myself recall the way she looked at me today—like I was both a stranger and something so much more.
THREE
Landyn
There’s a fine line between brave and stupid. I’m pretty sure I sprinted across it.
I stepped out of the conference room yesterday, chest tight, stomach twisting in the same anxious way it used to before finals. There wasn’t a door to shut in that big open space, but it felt like one had slammed between us anyway — solid and final—locking me out with Ford Winters on the other side, all unreadable silence and razor-sharp control.
God. He looked exactly the same.
No, it’s worse than that. He looked better. Sharper. Broader. Thick dark hair, perfectly styled, ruggedly handsome with a Roman nose and chiseled jaw that looks like it’s been carved out of stone. And those eyes… steel gray and unflinching. Everything about him said he’d built himself into a man who could walk into any room and own it. He wasn’t just the boy I fell in love with anymore. He was a man now. One who’d built an empire, and I just walked straight into it.
My phone buzzes in my hand. I don’t have to look to know who it is.
Mom: Checking in. It’s no rush. Want me to feed P lunch?
I exhale, guilt prickling at the back of my neck before I type out a reply. I hadn’t meant to be away so long. My mom would never say it, but I worry it’s too much for her considering everything that’s been happening with her health. Until we get answers from doctors, I need to limit how much she’s babysitting and make sure she’s getting lots of rest.
Landyn: Yes, please. There is a sandwich in the fridge for her. I’ll be home soon.
I slide my phone into my bag and check the counter for my second oat milk latte. I’ve spent the day holed in a coffee shop in downtown Deep Cove, doing a deep dive on everything to do with Cove so I’m ready for my first day in the office.
Yesterday’s meeting with Ford replays through my mind. The Cove headquarters is stunning, with raw cedar, black steel, and floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the trees outside like a postcard. It feels like nature and power fused together to form something unique and beautiful. Everything about it screams Ford—deliberate, precise, expensive.
It’s everything he said he wanted to accomplish back in college, when we used to sit on the floor of the tiny off-campus apartment he shared with his brothers eating out of boxes of take-out from the Chinese food place down the street as we talked forever about the future. Our future.
And it hurts like hell, because I left. And he built it anyway.
I look up towards the entrance of the coffee shop as a cool, crisp April breeze floats through the door. Deep Cove smells like fir trees and ocean mist, like cedar and soil. It’s cooler here than I remembered for spring or maybe it just feels that way because of the way Ford looked at me yesterday.
God, what were the odds?
I hadn’t known Cove was his. I swear I hadn’t. The consulting agency listed the client as a private outdoor lifestyle brand looking to expand their marketing team. The assignment sounded perfect—creative control, big budget, flexible hours. The kind of job that would keep my daughter in her dance classes and my resume in motion.
I knew there was a chance I could run into Ford if I came back to Deep Cove, but I never dreamed we would be working together. I didn’t come here looking for a reunion. I came home because my mom hasn’t been feeling well, and it’s been going on far too long. She’s brushed it off, the way she always does—she’s just tired, it’s just a cold, nothing to worry about.
She’s dragged her feet on getting checked out, putting off doctor’s appointments like if she ignores it long enough, whatever it is will just go away. But it’s not going away. If anything, it’s only getting worse. Over the phone she’s seemed exhausted and forgetful. She has prolonged dizzy spells, even though she tries to play it down. When I’ve talked to my dad about it, I can tell that he has become worried too. I’ve been trying to help, but I can’t do much when I’m living in another province. So, I finally made the decision to move Poppy and I to Deep Cove so I can becloser to my parents. It’s a bonus that it will give Poppy a chance to really get to know them too.
But of course, the man I left behind also happens to own the company that just hired me. Of course, the father of my child is the CEO who just looked at me like I burned his life to ashes and smiled while doing it. I press my fingertips to my eyes, shaking my head at the universe’s twisted sense of humor.
When my order is called, I walk to the counter, pick up my drink then slide back into the corner booth where I’ve been working all morning. Brew House is my favorite coffee shop in Deep Cove so far. It’s usually fairly quiet, tucked behind the bookstore and the florist. As soon as you open the door, you’re hit with the comforting smell of cinnamon and roasted espresso beans.
My fingers shake a little as I peel off the lid and set it aside, steam rising from the freshly brewed latte.
