Page 44 of The Betrayer
I was the founder the CEO of what had been a small business, then a larger business, then a company, and now a corporation, and I knew from talking to people in similar situations that the number one thing they worried about was succession. Choosing who would take over for you wasn’t easy—far from it. Too many people had children who either weren’t interested, were ineffective, or had too many family members who wanted the role. Any way you put it, from infighting to poor leadership to the business leaving the family’s hands, the result was always a disaster for the company itself.
In Paul, I had my successor. That if I quit today and handed the entire ship over to him to steer, it would have a long, bright future with him.
Almost, anyway. This trip would prove Paul could pull it all off once and for all.
To say I felt an inordinate amount of pride in my son after this week was an understatement. The week may have started poorly, but this kind of role switch seemed to have been what Paul and I needed to finally come to an understanding.
I hadn’t realized we needed an understanding, but there it was, and it felt like a new start.
The wind picked up as we—the rush hour crowd and I—waited for the crosswalk sign, leaves blowing over our path as we made our way across the street.
My feet picked up the pace as I turned a corner, catching sight of the sign for the coffee shop. But it wasn’t coffee that was driving me forward. Not today, anyway. It was the other reason I had been in such a good mood all week.
The coffee shop was packed as I pushed open the door, voices, and noises like the whirring of the coffee machine rising to the high, unfinished industrial ceiling. My gaze scanned the crowd, looking for one single person—would she be here today?
Every day this week since meeting eyes with the young woman coming in the door, I had come here looking for her. Well, the first day, I had come for coffee and was surprised to find her here not just for lunch but for an early-morning coffee, and the same happened on the second day. When I saw her that second day, I went back on the third looking for her. Then the fourth day, and the fifth.
Every day, just like me, she had been there, coffee cup in hand, earbuds in her ears as she moved her foot, or the long fingers wound around her coffee cup to a beat I couldn’t hear.
Something about the young woman drew me inextricably toward her, my attention, my gaze, everything. Even my feet wanted to turn toward her. She had stayed in my thoughts to the exclusion of all others. Aside from being busy with work, I hadn’t been to any clubs or bars, either, to look for someone to keep me company at night.
Every day, I kept away. It was like the universe was testing me on a week I had to be on my best behavior.
For a moment, as my gaze scanned the crowd, I thought maybe today was the day she wouldn’t show up. I felt disappointment and relief at the same time—I wanted to see her, but it was better that I didn’t have the temptation right in front of me.
I got into the line that stretched nearly to the door, content to wait for my coffee, and pulled my phone from my pocket. I scrolled through several messages and another few news stories that had popped up on my screen since this morning, but nothing noteworthy came up. I was replying to a short email from Paul while I waited, giving him a quick update, too absorbed to notice anything more than the fact someone had come up to stand behind me in line.
It wasn’t until I slipped the phone into my pocket and looked up to see how far I was from the front of the line that I caught the sight of dark hair from the corner of my eye. For a moment, I felt an extra beat in my chest before I casually looked behind me.
The young woman stood directly behind me in line. She had on a long, creamy wool coat and a woven hat of a similar color pulled down over her wealth of dark hair. Today, she didn’t have earbuds in her ears.
In fact, when she noticed my attention, she smiled. It was a full, bright smile of white, straight teeth, and warmth.
“Hi.”
I opened my mouth to reply, but for the first time since I was a teenager, nothing would come out. The young woman quirked her head, amusement dancing in her green eyes. Somehow, I managed to swallow and pull myself together—mostly.
“Good morning.”
My voice was a baritone already, but I found myself overcompensating and trying to lower it. This was ridiculous. I was fifty-two, not fifteen. And the CEO of a successful corporation to boot. How in the world was I scrambling to answer a young woman like this?
“How are you?” I forced the words to sound more normal.
“I’m doing well, thanks. Although I’ll be doing even better once I have my coffee.” Her voice was light, almost musical, and I heard the same glimmer of amusement in her tone that seemed to be always in her eyes.
“Same here.” I chuckled, hesitated, then stuck out my hand. “I’m William, by the way. Will.”
She took my hand and shook it, her hand slim in mine. “Rita.”
“Nice to meet you, Rita.”
“Same, Will. Nice to meet someone who likes this coffee shop as much as I do.” She flashed me another smile, and I held back my urge to cringe.
So, she had noticed me noticing her. She didn’t seem to mind, however. It was only amusement I saw in her eyes instead of caution or dislike. I searched for a question that wouldn’t seem too forward, but I wanted to know more about her.
“So, do you have classes around here? You’re in here often.”
“Nope.” Rita shook her head. “I graduated a couple of years ago. I do work close by, though. It’s easier to pick up a cup of coffee on the way to work. Better coffee, too. I kind of stink at making it myself.”
