Page 68 of The Autumn We Fell in Love

“Apologies,” says the third investor, having the decency to look embarrassed. “We’ll just be a moment.”

I don an irritated expression, but inside I’m happy dancing, knowing that I’ve got these guys right where I want them. Right where I should have had them from the beginning.

They rise as one and withdraw to a quiet corner just inside the front door. I smirk as they whisper furiously at each other with much emphatic hand waving.

The door to the restaurant opens, and Laurent wafts in like the Adonis that is.

My smirk falls away.

So does my confidence.

Just like that, I’m a mere mortal woman again, trembling in her seat, wondering what the hell is going on.

He locks eyes with me from across the restaurant. A shadow passes across his face as he hesitates, then closes the distance between us with long strides.

When he reaches the table, he makes to take a seat, then freezes. “Shira,” he says, eyes wild with emotion, “may I?” He waves at the chair.

I nod, heart thumping in my throat. I keep my eyes on my mostly empty glass of wine, turning it and turning it in its spot.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, face close to mine. I smell cinnamon on his breath. Every bit of me aches to press my lips to his, to taste him and smell him.

“You left.” My voice is flat, vibrating with anger or hurt, or both.

“It was my mom. She’s sick and was in the emergency room.” He shakes his head. “But I shouldn’t have just disappeared. I should have texted or left a note.”

I turn away. “Yes, you should have.”

He hesitates, then says, “Will you give me another chance? At least to be your fake boyfriend like you needed.” He frowns and checks his watch. “Wait, are they not here yet? I thought I was late.”

I spin the glass faster. “You were. But so were they.” I jut my chin toward the front of the restaurant. “They’re over there.”

Laurent follows my gesture. “Doing what?”

I can’t stop the satisfied smirk from sneaking across my face. “Freaking out.”

“Over what?”

“Me handing their asses to them.” I glance his way, expecting to see astonishment. Instead, I’m met with appreciation, approval — and is that pride in there too?

“That’s amazing, Shira.” His voice is rich with something like happiness. “They were stupid to play games with you. I’m glad you called them on it.” He cocks his head at me. “What changed? Like, for you, I mean?”

My cheeks heat. Damn, I was hoping I’d gotten past my blushing. Not yet, it seems. Not around Laurent, at least.

“You,” I answer with a shrug. “I took what you said to heart — that they should be begging me to be involved in Blush, not the other way around.”

“But,” he narrows his eyes, and my heart flip-flops at the way he seems to see straight to the core of me, “did you believe me?”

More heat floods to my face. “Not at first. But when I woke up to find you gone . . .” I shake my head. “I don’t know. It hurt.” My instinct is to hide my face, to hide my pain.

But I don’t want to hide anymore. I want to show who and how I am.

So I stare Laurent straight in his eyes. I let him see how he hurt me.

His beautiful face is the picture of regret. “Again, I am so sorry. I was as much of a fool as those guys.” He nods at the investors, who are now openly arguing with each other.

I don’t know how to respond, so I say what I was going to before this latest apology. “You leaving, it also made me angry. And not just at you. I was angry at the investors, and angry at myself for letting them mess with me.” I lift my chin. “I wanted to prove to you I could do all this on my own. That I don’t need to lean on anybody.”

Laurent’s nodding and his eyes are filled with fire. “Hellyes, Shira. You’ve got this.” Then he winces. “I mean, I hate that me being a total asshole was something of a catalyst for you. But I’m glad you’re owning your power. You deserve to feel as brilliant as you are.”

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