Page 4 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
"What we do is for people’s well-being," I say, leaning forward slightly. "And it's our heart. It’s who we are.”
Oscar holds my gaze, unflinching. "I admire that… although some foundations need patching."
The tension in the room thickens. Juan clears his throat nervously, while the lawyer on Oscar’s right – Cole something – looks between us with raised eyebrows.
"Perhaps we should review the organizational structure," Juan suggests, clearly trying to defuse the situation.
Oscar nods but doesn't break eye contact with me. "By all means. I'm particularly interested in understanding how Alice's team operates, given their impressive market performance in the last fiscal year."
Is that genuine praise or is he just placating me? I can't tell anymore. The Oscar I knew was transparent, earnest. This man before me is an enigma wrapped in expensive wool.
The meeting continues, but there's an undercurrent now — a charged exchange happening beneath the professional facade.Every time I make a point about our company values, Oscar counters with a business perspective. When he mentions efficiency improvements, I emphasize the importance of our quality standards.
It's like a dance — hostile yet somehow intimate. And we're the only two people who know the steps, leaving everyone else in the room to watch in confused silence.
After what feels like hours, Juan calls for a short break. As people file out for coffee and bathroom breaks, I gather my papers, desperate for a moment alone to collect myself.
"Alice."
His voice stops me at the door. I turn, finding Oscar much closer than I expected. Up close, I can see the tiny laugh lines at the corners of his eyes — evidence that somewhere along his climb to the top, he found reasons to smile.
Without me.
Why that guts me the most, I don’t know. I just can’t stand the thought of him sitting in a bar somewhere, with someone who isn’t me, having the time of his life. It’s crueler than anything else we’ve been through, the fact that, not only did his world keep spinning after we parted ways, but his life just kept getting better.
"This is… unexpected," he says, his voice lower now that we're alone.
"That's one word for it," I reply, trying to keep my tone neutral despite the riot of emotions inside me.
"You've done incredible work here." His eyes scan my face, and I wonder what he sees. "Rooted Pantry has an impressive market presence."
Of course. Business first. Always business with him.
"It's more than market presence, Oscar. It's a community. These people, this mission… it matters."
Something softens in his expression. "I know. That's why I wanted it."
"Did you know I was here?" The question bursts out before I can stop it.
He hesitates… but why?
"No," he says. "Your name wasn't in any of the documents I personally reviewed."
"Would it have made a difference?" I challenge.
The question hangs between us, heavy with twelve years of silence and what-ifs. For a moment, I see a glimpse of the Oscar I knew — uncertain, vulnerable.
Tender, even.
But then his phone buzzes, shattering the moment. He glances at the screen and whatever we were building falls to pieces.
"We should get back to the meeting," he says, straightening his already perfect tie. "I think we both want what's best for Rooted Pantry, so we can at least agree on that."
I want to argue, to tell him he has no idea what I want. But he's right about one thing — we need to get through this meeting.
As people filter back in, Sydney sidles up beside me. "Holy tension, Batman," she whispers. "You know him?"
"Old friend," I murmur, the word 'friend' woefully inadequate to describe what Oscar and I once were to each other.
