Page 48 of Power Move
“Then trust me.”
Her intense eyes focused on mine, as if finally hearing my words—all of them. And for a moment, I felt the urge to kiss her. I was still so drawn to her—even when she infuriated me.
“Okay. Can we just agree things will need to work different in the future but put off the big things until we know more? And just survive the retreat?”
“Sure,” I agreed.
As if by reflex, I kissed the top of her head.
Eva pulled back, her eyes meeting mine. She took me in once more—inquisitive, unsure, probing—before pulling me into a kiss.
Unable to resist, I ran my hands through her soft, honey-blonde hair and soaked her up. It felt as good as it had the first time.
She upended the moment with trepidation. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”
“You can always impose,” I said.
She turned to rush away. “No. It’s complicated. I should… go.”
I trotted after, catching up. “At least let me get you back to your car?—”
“I’m good.”
“Eva, talk to me. Don’t run!”
We rounded a corner. Eva speed walked.
She stopped before a blue pickup. “Here I am.”
“Eva, tell me that didn’t feel like anything,” I said.
“I… I just… I cannot do that.”
She hopped in the truck and slammed the door. I watched her drive off, confused. How did we go from an argument to a fabulous kiss to more arguing? Why did she always flee?
PART III
PARTNERS
16.BUFFALO SHORES
Eva
I drovemy mom’s CR-V north to Buffalo Shores, Michigan for the company retreat. We’d have a weekend of wine, fine cuisine, and strategy all set against the backdrops of the family’s lake compound, farmhouse, vineyard, and fruit orchard. I couldn’t drive my beater up there. It was too bleak. I was about to hobnob with the rich and Chicago-famous. I needed to impress the board, not look like a hick.
The board invited everyone to drinks and apps at the Harbor Country Suites and Spa—a fancy hotel with lake views. Daphne decided to attend, despite her late-pregnancy fatigue. I was just grateful to have a friend. Daphne circulated me through conversations with a dozen people, including her fabulous sister-in-law, Chloe Markham.
Chloe was different. Ensconced in expensive resort collection goodies, she didn’t have the same easy Old Money aesthetic the Delphines did when “casually” dressed. She was chic, outspoken, and possessedallthe tea.
“You’re staying with us across the street,” Chloe said. “Well, up the road, but pretty much.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Daphne put you at the house. We’re split here and there. It’s a block up the way.”
“Their house?” I asked.
“Yeah. It’s massive. Look, this place is trippy. It’s like The Hamptons. The house immediately across the street is owned by a prince.”
