Summer Escape with the Tycoon

But it was Molly, and he couldn’t just delete it without reading. He could read it and not reply, right?

He clicked on her name and brought up the message.

Hi Eric,

I went through all the pictures and the video and, wow! You got some great shots. Thank you for sharing them. And for everything, even helping me smash my phone. It helped to talk to my parents when I got home, and we’re all okay with me going in a new direction. Surprisingly so. I hope you’ve had a chance to see your family. I know you were thinking of doing that.

I also want to say... I’m sorry. Sorry for ruining things on that last day when really the whole time with you was pretty magical. Even the first day when you walked in on my bath. You showed me that I had a sense of adventure just waiting to come out, and that I could let go and fall for someone. I know we didn’t work out, but those were both incredible gifts that I’ll always be grateful for.

Thanks for replying and giving me a chance to say how I feel. I hated leaving things with anger and hurt.

Love, Molly

She was thanking him. Him! For giving her gifts that she’d had all along anyway. He should be the one thanking her. He’d never met a purer soul than Molly, and a hard ball of loneliness settled in the pit of his stomach. He missed her. God, he even woke in the morning hoping to feel her in the sheets beside him and she wasn’t there. He wanted to see her bright smile, or her flashing eyes, when she got irritated.

He scrolled through his other messages, trying to put the thought of her to the back of his mind. They were close to closing on the Bionics deal, and once that was done, he’d...

He paused. Once they closed this deal, he’d move on to the next deal, and the next.

Molly’s words came back to him. “You’re like that guy in Pretty Woman. He didn’t build or make anything, either.”

She was right. He didn’t. He bought and discarded just as quickly, making a profit as he went. He could justify it all he wanted, from a business perspective, but the truth was he had never seen anything all the way through. Not even his marriage. His priorities had been upside down for years.

Eric tapped his fingertips on his desk, wondering if he were being absolutely crazy. He pulled up some files, ran some numbers. Grabbed a coffee and played around some more, and then popped out to his assistant’s office. “Hey, Greg? I need to call a meeting.”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

MOLLY WAITED OUTSIDE the Boylston Street café and tried not to hyperventilate. When Eric had messaged and asked her to meet for lunch during his business trip, she’d agreed. She wanted to see him. Needed to. Maybe this whole thing would be for naught when they were in the real world. It was entirely possible that their affair had been a vacation thing and, when put in the actual context of their lives, would prove to be a nonstarter.

Of course, there was also the chance that she would see him and want to throw herself into his arms because she’d missed him that much.

She figured he was in town about the deal and she wasn’t going to ask him about it. Truthfully, it was none of her business. Just this morning she’d met with the executive director of a local nonprofit and she was hopeful that soon she’d be gainfully employed, after only three weeks at loose ends. It was far less glamorous than her previous position, and the pay was nowhere near close to the same, but it was a start, and she felt as if she might help make a difference in the lives of some underprivileged kids. At least it felt like a worthwhile purpose.

The September day was cool, so for her interview she’d dressed in black leggings with knee-high heeled boots, a tunic-style sweater in china blue and a scarf looped carelessly around her neck. While the outfit was slightly more casual than she’d normally wear, she’d dressed it up with her favorite Coach bag and several silver bangles.

She’d be lying if she said she hadn’t dressed with Eric in mind, too.

She caught sight of him crossing the street and her heart thudded against her ribs. Oh, he looked so good. He was in a suit, the button of his jacket undone, but wearing a tie, and he looked delicious. Their eyes met and there was the initial shock of recognition, and then a smile bloomed on his face, a glorious expression of welcome and happiness. She grinned back and walked toward him, trying to keep her steps measured and calm. When they met in the middle of the sidewalk, there was an awkward moment. She wanted nothing more than to lean in and greet him with a kiss. It felt like the natural thing to do. But there was too much undecided and unsaid, so instead she moved in for a hug.

It seemed he had the same idea because his gaze dropped to her mouth, but then he put his arms around her briefly before stepping back and cradling her face in his hands.

“Damn, but it’s good to see you.”

She couldn’t stop smiling. “You, too.”

He dropped his hands and let out a breath. “I was nervous as hell about that. I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

“I know.” She looked up at him and shrugged, the memory of their last morning together washing over her. “The way we left things...”

“I’m so sorry about that.”

“Me too.”

“I’ve got a lot to tell you. Should we go in?”

The café had, in Molly’s opinion, the best sandwiches in Boston, and that was saying something. She was famished—between the interview and meeting Eric she hadn’t been able to eat a thing all day. They were seated fairly quickly and the drink orders were taken before they had a chance to talk at all. Once their sparkling water arrived, they each took a sip and then met each other’s eyes.

“You look good, Molly.”