Page 120 of Prelude To You

“Listen if this is about the girl,” he continued. “I’m sure we can organize another evening with her. This time we keep it more contained and supervised.”

I looked up at Steven. In his own strange way, he was trying to make amends. This man whose sole purpose was to deliver me, unblemished, to the seat of power when the time came. I’d never been more aware of how regulated my life really was. I was always in check, always in control, and never gave anyone reason for concern.

The last thing Steven ever thought he’d have to worry about was me losing my head over a woman. Not that I was. “Seriously, Steven? As if Isabel would allow an evening to bearranged. To be available at my whim. Never going to happen. Forget it, life goes on.”

Steven took a small envelope from his pocket and slid it onto my desk.

“There are two sleeping pills in there. The exact dosage you would need for a few hours of rest. Have dinner and take them. You have to sleep. Tomorrow afternoon is the international board meeting. You have to be on your game.”

I nodded. It was back to business, and I was very aware of the precarious position the trust was in. We didn’t need the board of directors losing faith in the way the companies were run. It had come to the point where an interim president and chairman needed to take the reins, and all eyes were on me.

“Fine, I will,” I said finally.

Even as Steven was dismissed, he remained. “The girl said something interesting last night… Isabel.”

His lighter tone caught me off-guard. Enough to pique my interest. I shoved my irritation aside. “And what was that?”

“She said the next time you drag me to Savile Row for a bespoke suit, I should pick a lighter gray. It seems this shade makes me look like a funeral director.”

Our gazes held for a few moments before a smile involuntarily displayed the pleasure I felt inside. “Oh God, she didn’t.”

“Her parting words to me, yes.”

“She told me Savile Row is too sensible,” I replied. “That I needed to look less formal and more stylish. I guess now we’re looking at Milan or Florence the next time around. Apparently we need the Italians to make us more fashionable.”

Steven almost smiled, but something else was on his mind. “I hope you understand why I had to do what I did last night.”

I grimaced at the reminder. “No, I don’t. But what’s done is done.”

That should have been the end of a conversation that would send Steven away pleased, content that I was over it and moving on. But for once he dawdled, not convinced for a second that I could so easily forget Isabel. He cleared his throat before he addressed me with a smidgen of empathy in his voice.

“I regret never telling you that one day, very unexpectedly, you might meet someone who would touch your heart. I should have prepared you for that risk. Somehow I didn’t think it was possible that it would happen, because you never seemed all that interested in anyone. You’ve always been too rational and too disciplined to become mesmerized with someone, or careless in handling something. I know it’s difficult to process right now, but in time you will find your feelings settling into warm memories. For now, let’s not forget who you are and where you’re going. Understood?”

I nodded automatically, not sure where the hell this was all going. And then Steven walked out, closing the door with a soft click. Leaving me with more questions than answers.

It was a mouthful for a man whose emotional range was on the lower end of the scale. In the fourteen years he’d been my shadow, I couldn’t recall one time where he’d shown any kind of sentiment toward anything or anyone, including me. And here he was telling me about the finer points of falling in love.

Is that what this was?

Did Steven actually recognize the situation as such? To say I was curious as to why Steven of all people would preach about the mysterious thing called love, would be putting it mildly. More importantly, was this what it felt like to fall in love? It had only been two days for God’s sake.

I summoned Isabel’s image back to the big screen. Not having looked at her for an entire day, the jolt that ripped through me came as a surprise. Memories immediately jostled for precedence, the effect threatening to engulf me.

Isabel was but a phone call away, and it took immense willpower not to ask Kayla for that number. I knew it might be a temporary relief to speak to her, to tell her how sorry I was about all of this. But I wasn’t so sure it would remain just a phone call. The very idea had disaster written all over it. Again.

I stared at her face, every bit of it etched in my mind. That beautiful soft mouth wandering all over me, finding new places to savor. Those big green eyes brimming with tears as she read Daphne and Pierre’s love letters, her heart shattered when no obvious happy ending came for them.

I’d raked her into my arms to soothe her, a small inconsolable bundle. Until desire tossed all traces of grief aside and Isabel slowly coiled herself against me, and uncoiled, like a cat needing attention. Which I gave to her immediately.

I had enough memories to last for a while, but I knew they wouldn’t be enough. There was no chance that these would merely become warm recollections in my mind, keeping me company in solitary moments.

On the contrary, they were making Isabel’s absence much harder to bear. I couldn’t touch her, feel her, or drink in her smell. This longing was killing me, and if I wasn’t so exhausted I’d have gone for a very long run. Or made that damn phone call that could do so much more damage to us both.

I scraped the envelope with the sleeping pills closer. Steven’s concern about my lack of sleep was duly noted, and not being one to abandon obligations, I decided I’d take them. I had to be on my toes for the board meeting, even if it was virtual.

Most important, I needed to look like the future leader this trust needed to inspire confidence.

Secretly I hoped the sleeping pills would erase last night, or at least soften the blow. It was going to haunt me for all the wrong reasons. My lack of power to change everything back to what it was, before that kiss in the bookshop, preyed on me.

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