Page 10 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
How did we go from that to this? How did he become someone who could look at me like I'm just another asset to be valuated?
I close the notebook and press it to my chest, allowing myself a moment of pure, unfiltered emotions. Anger. Hurt. Confusion.
And… something else, something I'm not ready to name.
It would be so much easier if I could just hate him. Clean, simple hatred. But the truth is messier, more complicated. Even as I resent what he did, I can't deny the current of something else that ran through me today when our eyes met.
There was a pull, a recognition. A memory of what we once meant to each other.
And that's the most dangerous part of all. Because Oscar might own Rooted Pantry, but I'll be damned if I let him see that he still owns a piece of my heart.
CHAPTER 5
OSCAR
It might be a little early, but I send Alice a text at five-thirty AM asking her to meet me at seven at GreenBean Coffee, a small shop two blocks from Rooted Pantry's headquarters. She responds with a terse "fine" that somehow manages to convey both irritation and resignation even in text form.
Getting ready in my hotel suite, I find myself spending more time than usual selecting a tie. The navy silk one? Too formal. The striped one? Too casual. Finally, I settle on a deep burgundy that complements my charcoal suit.
"It's just a business meeting," I mutter to my reflection as I adjust the knot.
But it's not just business, and I know it. It's Alice. The woman who once knew me better than anyone. The woman who turned me down all those years ago, shattering something inside me that I've never quite managed to repair, despite all my successes and the women I’ve dated since her.
I arrive at the coffee shop fifteen minutes early, choosing a corner table with a view of the door. The morning light casts agolden glow over the street, highlighting the cars and foot traffic. After ordering a double espresso I sit and wait, scrolling through emails on my phone while trying not to glance at the door every thirty seconds.
At exactly seven on the dot, Alice walks in.
She's wearing a navy pantsuit with a cream blouse underneath, her brown hair falling in loose waves around her shoulders. Even dressed for a stuffy office, there's something soft about her that catches my breath. A barista greets her by name, and she smiles — that genuine smile that made a lasting impression on my heart, the one that crinkles the corners of her eyes and makes her whole face light up.
But that smile isn't for me anymore, a thought that stings more than it should.
She orders before approaching my table, her expression shifting to something more guarded as she gets closer.
"Good morning," I say, standing as she reaches the table.
"Morning," she replies, setting her bag down and taking a seat across from me. "I hope this is important enough to justify the early hour."
"I'm a firm believer in discussing important matters when minds are fresh," I reply, trying to keep my tone light.
She raises an eyebrow. "And what exactly constitutes an 'important matter' in this case?"
Before I can answer, a barista calls her name. She excuses herself to collect her drink — some complicated concoction with oat milk that sounds familiar. Some things never change.
"You're a regular," I comment as she returns to our table.
"Five days a week for the past six years," she confirms, taking a careful sip. "Some of us don't flit around from city to city, acquisition to acquisition."
There's a bite to her words that I choose to ignore. "Consistency has its merits."
"As does loyalty," she counters, her brown eyes meeting mine with challenge.
The air between us crackles with unspoken accusations. I take a breath, reminding myself that I called this meeting to smooth things over, not reignite old flames — of either the passionate or hostile variety.
"Alice, I want to talk about your position at Rooted Pantry."
Her spine straightens, body tensing like she's preparing for a blow. "What about my position?"
"I want you to have real input in the company's future direction. What I said yesterday wasn’t just talk."
