Daniel’s cheery expression faltered a moment. “Well, mostly, I just thought it would be nice to catch up. It’s been a while.”
“Yeah. Well, after you dumped me I wasn’t exactly ready to be friends.”
He hung his head for a moment and then reached across the table to take my hands. I was too stunned by the gesture to pull away. “Look, Jillian. You’ve always preferred when I get to the point, so that’s what I’ll do. I miss you. I’ve been missing you. All this time.”
I blinked a few times. “You missed me?”
“Yes,” he said firmly. “A lot. In fact, after we broke up—”
“After you dumped me over email,” I corrected him.
He winced slightly. “Yes. After that, I went through a tough time. I thought about my life and how busy I was and how great things were going but I realized I still wasn’t happy. Because something was missing. You.”
I pulled my hands away and put them in my lap. “Danny.”
“I know, I know,” he said, putting his hands up. “It’s crazy. Out of left field. I get it. But let me explain, okay? I messed up. I made a mistake when I broke up with you, Jillian. I was an idiot. I didn’t know what I had. But I do now. I looked around myself and realized you belonged there. In my world. Beside me.”
“Danny.”
“I’m not finished yet,” he said, holding up one finger. “My business is booming. I’m looking to expand, hire on new people. And you know who was the first person I thought of?”
“Me?” I suggested flatly.
He nodded. “Yes. You. You’re smart, you’re persuasive, you’re used to handling large sums of money and working with luxury-class clientele. You’d be perfect as a partner. Both in business and in well, life.”
“Are you offering me a job and telling me you want me back?” I asked, frowning.
“Yes. Exactly. That is exactly what I’m doing.”
I scoffed, shaking my head. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Why not?” he said, not following at all. “I know you were hurt when we broke up. Isn’t this what you want?”
“Danny, I was hurt because you dumped me over email. And because breakups always suck. But you and me, we’re done. We’ve been done,” I explained as gently as I could. “I’ve moved on, and you will, too.”
“I don’t want to move on. I know what I want. It’s fate. You and me—we’re fate,” he argued, beginning to sound truly hurt. I didn’t want to break his heart, but I had to be honest.
Then it hit me.
If I had to be honest with Daniel, I also needed to be honest with myself. And if I was being totally, brutally honest, I knew exactly what I wanted. I had known since I was a dumb teenager. Since that first Thanksgiving when I looked across the table and saw Bruin Kincaid.
Suddenly, I stood up. “What? Where are you going?” Danny asked.
I gave him an apologetic look, my heart pounding.
“I’m sorry, Daniel. But I have to go. There’s something I have to do.”
Twenty-Five
Bruin
Back in Ft. Lauderdale, I stood on the deck of the Mirabella, my heart whipping itself up into a storm as I leaned against the railing and glared at everything.
I still had to be physically present to sell the boat. At least, I wanted to. I assumed Jeff was going to get some other broker besides Jillian to oversee the transaction. I couldn’t decide which prospect was worse: the thought of him sending some pencil-necked man to come try to fumble through the paperwork Jillian already had done the legwork for, or some other girl in a short pencil skirt meant as a distraction for me.
Either one seemed pretty reasonable for Jeff, given our icy relationship since talking about Jillian seriously.
One of the servers, a pretty young blonde I’d hired recently, made her way up to me with a mojito on a tray and a smile on her face. “Your drink, sir,” she said, presenting it to me.