Page 28 of Knot Your Sunshine
Would you join me in the Orchid Conference Room today at 2:00 PM?
Looking forward to finally meeting in person.
- AlphaMagnate808
The letter slips from my fingers and floats to the marble floor like a falling leaf.
Josh's boss is back? Already? Josh said he'd be gone for days, not just one. I thought I'd have time to prepare, to practice my pitch, to—
My chest tightens like someone's sitting on it. Each breath takes conscious effort.
Today, 2 PM. The meeting I flew halfway across the world for… the one that could change everything.
Shit. Shit shit shit.
* * *
The resort terrace steals what's left of my breath.
Open-air dining stretches across three sides facing the Pacific, with billowing white canvas providing shelter from the sun. Chefs in pristine whites work at live stations, one flipping omelets, another slicing paper-thin sashimi, a third carving Wagyu beef, and several more whose specialties I can't see from this distance.
Elena waves from a table right at the railing.
"I got the note!" The words burst out before I even sit down. "The meeting with the owner is happening today."
Elena's mimosa freezes halfway to her lips. "Today? When?"
"Two o'clock." I collapse into the chair beside her. A waiter materializes instantly with coffee, which I accept gratefully. "I have less than three hours to transform into someone who can pitch to a billionaire."
Cole looks up from a plate that appears to contain half a cow's worth of prime rib, eggs, and what might be an entire loaf of French toast. "You'll do fine. You know your stuff."
"Easy for you to say." I flag down a passing server with the desperation of someone signaling a rescue helicopter. "Can I get French toast please? Extra whipped cream? And maybe a side of those macadamia nut pancakes? And bacon. Lots of bacon."
Elena's eyebrow climbs toward her hairline. "Hungry?"
"Terrified." I grab a chocolate croissant from the basket on the table, and the buttery pastry dissolves on my tongue. "God, these Beaumont pastries are always incredible."
Dorian smiles with quiet pride. "They're definitely fresh from this morning. The resort must have arranged delivery from one of our locations."
James grins with mischief in his eyes. "Speaking of morning, I'm surprised you didn't text Elena for an early breakfast, Mia. Must have been quite the evening for you to sleep in."
My croissant goes down the wrong way. Elena pounds my back while I cough.
"You okay?" she asks, though her eyes sparkle with suspicion.
"Fine. Wrong pipe." My face burns hotter than the coffee. "So where's your mom? Did she have a late breakfast?"
"Early breakfast actually. With Julian," Elena says, her smirk growing. "They're having lunch together too. Apparently he's teaching her to paddleboard."
"The silver fox from yesterday?" I whistle low. "Your mom doesn't waste time."
"Tell me about it." Elena shakes her head, but she's fighting a smile.
My French toast arrives, a tower of bread drowning in cream and crowned with what appears to be half a pineapple. I attack it like it personally offended me.
"You're going to give yourself a stomachache," Elena observes as I shovel in my third massive bite.
"Need energy. Have to be perfect." Another bite disappears. Syrup drips down my chin. "Have to convince the owner I'm not just some small-town hairdresser with delusions of grandeur when I pitch my idea."
