Page 12 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
Christina looks confused. "Oh! I just assumed… I mean, you guys were inseparable in college. Everyone thought it was just a matter of time."
I feel a rush of heat up my neck and pray it doesn't show. Did everyone really think that? Was I that obvious about my feelings?
"Oscar recently acquired the company I work for," Alice explains, her voice unnaturally high.
"Wow!" She looks impressed. "That's amazing. I've read about you online, Oscar, but I had no idea you and Alice were still… connected."
"We weren't," Alice says quickly. "Until yesterday."
An awkward silence falls. I clear my throat. "How about you, Christina? What are you up to these days?"
Thankfully, she launches into a detailed account of her life since graduation — her marketing career, two kids, recent divorce — giving me a moment to regain my composure. Out of the corner of my eye, I see Alice fidgeting with her coffee cup, clearly as uncomfortable as I am.
After a few minutes of catching up, Christina checks her watch. "Oh shoot, I'm going to be late for a client meeting. It was so great seeing you both!" She puts a hand on each of our shoulders. "Don't be strangers, okay? The alumni group has a Facebook page if you want to reconnect with more old friends."
With a final wave, she hurries out of the coffee shop, leaving Alice and me in awkward silence.
"Well," I finally say. “Uh…”
"Yep," Alice supplies.
Despite everything, I laugh, and after a moment, she joins me, the tension between us easing slightly.
"Was it really that obvious?" I ask before I can stop myself. "How I felt about you back then?"
The question slips out, dangerous and exposed. I regret it immediately, but it's too late to take it back.
Alice's laughter fades, and she looks down at her coffee. "I don't know," she says softly. "Maybe to everyone else."
But not to her, is the implication. Not to the one person who I wanted to notice the most. The only person I really cared about…
I clear my throat, desperate to get back to safer ground. "As I was saying about your role at Rooted Pantry?—"
"You're serious about this," she interrupts, looking up at me with renewed focus. "About giving me that autonomy?"
"Yes," I confirm. "I am."
She studies me for a long moment, and I find myself holding my breath, drinking in the details of her face. The small freckle nearher left eye. The way her lower lip is slightly fuller than her upper one. The tiny furrow that appears between her brows when she's thinking hard.
"I poured my heart and soul into Rooted Pantry," she says finally, her voice quiet but intense. "I will not step aside only to have you turn it into another soulless brand in your empire."
Her passion is captivating, and I find myself leaning toward her, drawn by the force of her conviction. "I respect that," I tell her honestly. "And I meant what I said. As one of the founders, you'll have final say on creative decisions."
Something in my tone or expression must convince her because she gives a small nod. "Okay."
"Okay?" I repeat, surprised by her capitulation.
"I'm not saying I trust you," she clarifies quickly. "But I'm willing to try this arrangement. For Rooted Pantry's sake."
Relief washes through me. "That's all I'm asking for."
She narrows her eyes at me. "For now."
I can't help but smile. Even suspicious, even angry, she's magnificent. "For now," I agree.
“Anything else?” She checks her phone. “I should head to the office soon.”
“There’s, uh, one more thing. I’m throwing a party next week. For the office.”
