Page 49 of The CEO's Sweetheart Deal
The lobby suddenly feels very quiet, and I realize we're drawing stares. Oscar Glynn, half-dressed in a five-star hotel lobby, is quite the spectacle.
"I…" My mouth is dry. "I was just heading out. We have a flight to catch."
"In three hours," he says flatly. "Were you planning to wait at the airport all that time? Or were you hoping to catch an earlier flight without me?"
Yep. Right on the first try. And the second.
I would take either of those opportunities — whichever presents itself first.
I can't meet his gaze. "Oscar, last night was… it was a mistake. We work together. It's complicated."
"Bullshit."
The word is so unexpected, so unlike his usual eloquence, that I look up in surprise.
"Excuse me?"
"You heard me." His voice drops lower, for my ears only. "Last night wasn't a mistake. It was years in the making. And you're not leaving because you're worried about mixing business with pleasure. You're leaving because you're scared."
"I'm not scared," I protest automatically, but the words sound hollow, like I’m a robot just repeating something I’ve been programmed to say.
His expression softens. "Yes, you are. You're scared that this is just a fling to me. That I'll change my mind, or that I won't be there when you wake up one morning." He takes a step closer. "Sound familiar?"
The parallel to his desertion years ago isn't lost on me. My cheeks burn with embarrassment and something else — the discomfort of having someone see right through you.
"Look, I get it," I say, desperate to regain control of the situation. "We had unfinished business. We resolved it. Now we can move forward professionally without all this… history hanging over us."
Oscar shakes his head, a small, incredulous smile playing at his lips. "Is that what you think last night was? Closure?"
"Wasn't it?"
"No, Alice." He reaches for my hand, and despite my better judgment, I let him take it. "Last night was a beginning, not an end."
My heart flutters treacherously in my chest. "Oscar?—"
"I want to be with you," he interrupts, his voice firm but gentle. "Not just for one night. Not just for a fling. I want to see where this goes — where we could go. I've spent so long building these companies, but it means nothing without someone to share it with." His thumb traces circles on the back of my hand. "Without you to share it with."
I swallow hard, fighting against the hope rising in my chest. "How could this possibly work? You own my company. We're in completely different worlds now."
"We'll figure it out. Together." His gaze is steady, unwavering. "I'm not the same man who walked away from you, Alice. Hell, I wasn’t even a man then. I was a boy. And I won't make that mistake again."
"And what if it doesn't work?" I whisper, voicing my deepest fear. "What if we try, and it falls apart, and this time we can't even salvage a professional relationship?"
"Then at least we'll know we tried." His free hand comes up to brush a strand of damp hair from my face. "Isn't that better than spending another twelve years wondering what could have been?"
The touch of his fingers against my cheek is electric, sending warmth spreading through me. All my carefully constructed arguments against this — against us — suddenly seem flimsy in the face of the raw emotion in his eyes.
"I'm not good at this," I admit quietly. "Relationships. Vulnerability. I've spent so long being strong and independent."
"I know." He smiles slightly. "It's one of the things I love about you."
Love. The word hangs between us, loaded with possibility.
"I'm afraid," I finally confess, the words feeling like they're being torn from somewhere deep inside me.
"So am I," he says, surprising me. "Alice, you terrify me. You always have. You're the only person who's ever had the power to break my heart."
The sincerity in his voice, in his eyes, undoes me completely. And suddenly, I know. Despite the risks, despite the complications, despite the million ways this could go wrong, I want this. I want him.
