Page 11 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
Surprise flickers across her face. "Why? You've never needed anyone else's input before. Your companies are run with military precision, all decisions flowing from the top down. Don’t tell me you aren’t going to run the same techniques here.”
She holds up a hand. “I know. You told me that you will come to me for creative decisions. You said that’s not just talk...”
“But you don’t believe it?” I'm still taken aback by how much she knows about my business practices. Maybe she hasn't been as disinterested in my career as I imagined.
She bites her bottom lip, not wanting to answer.
"You've been keeping tabs on me?" I ask, shifting gears, unable to hide a small smile.
Her cheeks flush slightly. "No. I looked into your business yesterday. It's called market research, Oscar. Know your competition."
"We’re not competitors – we work together now," I point out.
"Everyone in this industry is competition on some level," she replies smoothly, though the pink in her cheeks deepens.
I lean back in my chair, studying her. Even flustered, she's magnificent — all fierce intelligence and unwavering conviction. I've dated supermodels and executives, heirs and artists, but none of them had this effect on me. None of them made my heart race with a single glance.
"Rooted Pantry is different from my other acquisitions," I admit. "It has… heart."
"And you're worried you'll kill that if you start implementing your usual efficiency measures," she finishes for me.
I nod, impressed by her perceptiveness. "Exactly. The company's soul is what makes it valuable. And you, Alice, are a big part of that soul."
She takes another sip of her coffee, studying me over the rim. I find myself distracted by the way her lips press against the ceramic, leaving a faint impression of pink lipstick.
"You're willing to give me that much autonomy?" Disbelief colors her tone.
"Yes," I say simply. "I trust your judgment."
Her eyes widen slightly, and for a moment I glimpse vulnerability there. "After twelve years of silence, you're suddenly willing to trust me with your company? You don’t even know who I am now."
I can argue that last point. A woman like Alice makes it very well known who she is. She broadcasts through both action and words.
"Our history is… complicated," I acknowledge, choosing my words carefully. "But your track record speaks for itself. Rooted Pantry's growth under your leadership has been impressive."
She tilts her head, studying me with those perceptive brown eyes. "This doesn't sound like the Oscar Glynn that business magazines profile. The 'ruthless health food mogul' who 'cuts fat without mercy'."
I wince at the quotes. "Don't believe everything you read."
"Then who should I believe? The boy I knew in college or the businessman sitting across from me now?"
The question hangs between us, loaded with history and hurt and things we never said. I open my mouth to respond when a voice interrupts us.
"Oh my God, Oscar? Alice? Is that really you guys?"
We both turn to see a woman with blonde hair and oversized glasses standing beside our table, beaming at us. It takes me a moment to place her — Christina Logan, who lived in Alice’s building and took several business classes with us.
"Chris," Alice says, her surprise evident. "Hi!"
"I thought that was you!" Christina exclaims. "Wow, you both look amazing!" She glances between us, her smile growing impossibly wider. "I always knew you two would end up together."
I choke on my coffee.
Alice's face flames red. "Oh, we're not?—"
"We're just—" I start simultaneously.
"Business," Alice finishes. "We're working together."
