Her lips trembled. “You don’t want me.”
“You’re right,” he said harshly. “I want the Bailey I know. The woman who let me look into her soul last night. Not this.”
He turned on his heel and left, slamming the connecting door behind him. Bailey curled up in a ball on the sofa and cried. Cried for the girl she’d been. For what she wished she hadn’t had to do.
At Jared for being so cruel.
At herself for ruining everything.
CHAPTER TEN
BAILEY WOKE WITH the birds. At some point, after Jared had left, she’d stumbled into bed and slept. Given herself over to a seemingly endless series of dreams whose characters and content overlapped without rhyme or reason, which sent her spiraling into the past, then hurtling forward into the present again in a dizzying journey that ended only with the arrival of the first light of day.
And perhaps the appearance of the loud, squeaky garbage truck that parked outside her window. She winced at the piercing, grinding sound, thinking maybe it wasn’t as early as she’d thought, and levered herself into a sitting position. Somehow Paris seemed too elegant a city for garbage trucks…but apparently it too had its baggage it needed to get rid of.
She slid her legs over the side of the bed and padded to the window in time to see the very inelegant green garbage truck move on to the next storefront, hogging most of the narrow street with its robust, squat girth. Watching it made her think. Was Jared right? Was her determination to distance herself from her past destroying her instead of saving her?
She opened the French doors, walked out onto the balcony and braced her palms on the railing. She was proud, extremely proud of what she’d accomplished. Of whom she’d become. If she’d hadn’t had the past she’d had, she wouldn’t be the person she was now. And maybe that was the way she needed to look at herself: accept the parts she didn’t like, the parts she was ashamed of, because they were part of the whole package like it or not.
The cold light of day was telling, exposing, and she shivered against the glare of it. Last night as the world had learned the truth of her, she’d felt as if she’d disintegrated into a million pieces. Funny how you could wake up the next morning and still be here. Could still hurt. Could still be angry.
Could discover that even though you thought the past had the power to destroy you, it really didn’t. Not unless you let it.
The graffiti-emblazoned garbage truck turned the corner to meander down the next street, leaving only Jared’s stark rejection of her in its wake. She’d spent her life being tougher than all the rest. Refusing to give in when the odds were stacked against her. Which explained why his words had hurt so much last night. She couldn’t stand to be a quitter. She couldn’t stand for him to think she was a quitter.
Couldn’t stand for him not to love her.
Her heart squeezed hard in her chest. She hadn’t even known she wanted to be loved. Hadn’t known she craved it, needed it, like some missing piece of the puzzle that was her until now. It was frightening, terrifying, and it had made her drive him away last night—perhaps for good.
She pressed her fingers to the pounding pulse at her temples. Jared wanted a woman she didn’t even know yet. It was a vulnerable, open version of herself he brought out. Not the old or the new Bailey, something else entirely. It occurred to her that maybe that’s who she needed to be. A product of her past but in command of her future.
Increased activity on the street told her it was time to go inside and dress. The pitch was today. And the only thing she was certain about this morning was that she had to win this for Jared. Support him as he’d supported her this entire time.
She was dressed in a conservative gray pantsuit when she stopped, high heels in hand. No way was she doing this. Downplaying her femininity just because those men now thought she was entertainment for hire.
That would be letting them win.
She shrugged out of the suit and reached for the new chic mauve one she’d purchased on a whim on the Champs-Elysées. The material was gorgeous and the skirt showed a lot of leg.
Jared knocked on the door just as she’d finished dressing. His mouth curved as he looked her over. “That your battle gear?”
“Something like that.”
He stepped closer and tucked a chunk of her hair behind her ear. “There isn’t another person I’d want by my side today.”
The dark glimmer of emotion in his eyes sent a flicker of hope through her. “Nor I.”
She led the way out of the room. Today wasn’t about emotion. Today was about getting the job done.
* * *
Jared spent the short ride from their hotel to the Maison offices finding his center. He’d spent the night sleepless and keyed up, not just because of what had happened with Bailey, but because this was it. One way or another his future would be determined today. He was done romancing the board, done proving himself when that’s all he’d done over the past ten years to make money for his shareholders. They had to climb aboard his vision, understand where the future was, or he was out.
He stared out the window, watching the mad drivers dart in and out of traffic with an early-morning fervor that was just this side of frightening. Winning the Maison partnership would be an incredible achievement. He could transform the consumer electronics industry with it. But he could no longer sacrifice his soul for the company he’d built. Maybe it was the summons from his father that had done it, the knowledge that life was finite. But he knew the path and it wasn’t this.
He didn’t need a trek to the Himalayas to find peace. He needed to trust himself. And he wanted to be back in his labs creating with the engineers.
The car rolled to a halt in front of the skyscraper containing the Maison offices. The Gehrig team had already pitched when they walked into the metal-and-chrome boardroom, filled to the brim with the marketing, PR and sales teams. He read the atmosphere: alive but not buzzing. And knew they just had to set the room on fire and the deal was theirs.
If Alexander Gagnon played fairly. Gagnon was uncharacteristically subdued as he introduced them to the heads of the key departments. They socialized for a few minutes, then began. Adrenaline surged through him as he walked to the front of the room and opened with the history of Stone Industries, the “why us” argument and the successful alliances his company had forged around the world.
By the time he’d laid the groundwork, given an impassioned speech about vision, the room was noticeably energized. He handed the clicker over to Bailey, who looked calm and composed. Gobsmackingly stunning. “We’ve got this,” he murmured. “Bring it home.”
She nodded and walked to the front of the room. There wasn’t a male eye that wasn’t on her behind in the beautifully tailored suit as she stopped and turned around. He was pretty sure the hushed whispers had more to do with the gossip from last night than the subject at hand, and apparently Bailey had figured that out too, a shadow falling across her face. He watched her blink, then visibly check herself. Pull her shoulders back. And begin.
She launched into her slides with an easy, firm command of her ideas. Laid them down as if everyone in the room better be in the game or they were missing something special. Head thrown back, she roamed the room, keeping their interest, soliciting their response. And when the arrogant young marketer who’d passed her photo around last night started a side conversation with a coworker that clearly had nothing to do with the presentation and everything to do with Bailey’s assets, she stopped by his chair and asked him if he had a question. Davide’s mouth twitched, the marketer shut his and sank back into his chair, and Bailey moved on.
Jared leaned back and simply watched. He didn’t sit poised to jump in and help her. Wasn’t concerned a fact might be wrong. He knew Bailey now, knew he could trust her. What he was fascinated with, however, was this Bailey. He’d seen her confident before, seen her unsure in her own shoes and overcompensating. But he had never seen this version. Commanding. Fierce. Combative. And he knew in that moment he’d been wrong the day they’d driven in from the airport into Paris. Bailey was more than any man had a right to expect in a woman. She was courageous and vulnerable and stunningly brilliant, everything he’d been convinced didn’t exist in a female.
She made him feel things he’d thought he’d never experience for another human being. Realize he was capable of it. And knew she’d been right; he was afraid. Afraid of making the same mistakes his father had made. Afraid of loving a woman who might leave.
Afraid of facing the truth of himself.
He shifted in the chair, his clarity unsettling. Bailey had never had love in her life, never had someone to protect her. Yet she was courageous enough to open herself up in the hopes she might someday have it. He was pretty sure he wanted to be that for her. To be the one to protect her. To believe in her.
He was scared he wanted all of her. Frightened it wasn’t within his realm.
He raked a hand through his hair, his guts doing a fine job of rearranging themselves as Bailey sat down beside him, a rosy glow in her cheeks.
He gave her a sideways look. “Where did that come from?”