The Rivals

With a new plan of action, I got up and walked over to the receptionist, where Sophia was still standing.

“Oh, hi,” the woman said. “I was just telling Ms. Sterling that Ms. Barton is running a few minutes behind. She had an overseas conference call before your meeting, and it started late.”

Sophia stood a little taller, completely ignoring me next to her. “Do you know how long she’s going to be?” she asked. “I have another meeting after this.”

I would’ve bet my bank account there was no meeting after this.

“She shouldn’t be more than ten or fifteen minutes,” the receptionist said. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or tea while you wait?”

Sophia sighed. “No. Thank you.”

She looked to me, and I waved my hand. “I’m good.”

“Okay. Well, why don’t you both have a seat, and I’ll let you know as soon as she’s off her call.”

“Actually.” I took one step closer. “Would you happen to have an empty conference room?”

“Umm…sure. The one you’ll be meeting in is available. Did you need to make a call or something?”

I shook my head. “No. Ms. Sterling and I have some business to discuss. Do you think we could make use of that room before Ms. Barton is available?”

The receptionist smiled. “Sure. No problem.” She stood. “Why don’t you follow me, and I’ll let Elizabeth know where you’ll be when she’s done.”

Sophia seemed momentarily confused, so I took advantage, knowing once she regained her footing she wouldn’t voluntarily walk into a room with me. I put my hand low on her back and held out my other for her to walk first.

“After you…”

Her jaw clenched, but she wasn’t about to make a scene. That wasn’t Sophia’s style, at least not in the lobby in front of the receptionist. Though I had no doubt she’d ream me a new asshole once the conference room door clicked shut. So I’d have to keep her off her game, by jumping in before she had a chance.

We followed the receptionist into a long conference room. I was glad it wasn’t one of those fishbowl rooms that corporate America loved these days, where everything that went on inside was visible to anyone passing by.

“Are you sure I can’t get you coffees?” the receptionist asked from the door after we were both inside.

“No, thank you,” Sophia said.

“I’m good.” I smiled and motioned to the door. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to shut this.”

“Oh. Sure. Yeah. I’ll do that for you.” She grabbed the door handle and gently closed it behind her.

“Weston—” Sophia jumped right in.

But I cut her off. “I need thirty seconds. If you want, I’ll go wait in the lobby after that.” I had no idea how much time we had, or if we’d get a chance to talk again before we wrapped things up at The Countess, so I needed to say what I needed to say—and fast.

Sophia’s lips flattened to a grim line. She didn’t acknowledge granting me the thirty seconds, but I figured her not talking might be as good as I was going to get. So I paced back and forth, looking down at the floor, trying to choose the right words.

My ribs felt like a weight was sitting on them, squeezing the air from my lungs. And I knew exactly what that weight was. I had this moment to get everything off my chest.

Now or never.

Don’t be a chickenshit all your life.

So I took a deep breath and looked across the table, waiting for Sophia to look up. Eventually, the awkward silence tricked her into meeting my gaze, and I went for it.

Fuck it.

Go big or go home.

“I love you, Sophia. I don’t know when it started or if it even matters anymore. But I need you to know it.”

At first, I saw hope bloom in her eyes. They widened with surprise, and the slightest hint of a smile formed at the corners of her mouth. But just as quickly as that hope had blossomed, it wilted.

And I watched as she remembered.

Remembered how I’d fucked her over.

Remembered how she’s supposed to hate me.

Remembered how nothing I say should be trusted.

In the span of less than ten seconds, that slightest upturn at the corners of her mouth melted into a giant downturn, and her wide eyes narrowed with suspicion.

“You have no idea what love is.”

I shook my head. “You’re wrong. I might not know a lot of things—like how to have some balls when dealing with my family, or how to tell my grandfather no when he tells me to do something morally reprehensible, or even how to be in a relationship, because fuck knows I’ve never had a real-life role model of what a normal one is supposed to look like. But I absolutely, positively know that I’m in love with you. You know how?”