“I almost did,” she informed him. Her voice was cool, and she kept her posture perfect as she sat. “But I figured I might as well give you a chance. You did travel thousands of miles just to see me.”
She crossed her arms, and her chin rose as if she was appraising him and not liking what she saw.
“You're angry,” he said. The hope from earlier flickered like a candle in a strong wind.
“Yes.” Her mouth tightened, her eyes and face serious. “You lied to me.”
“I didn't lie,” he quickly countered. “I never said I wasn't a billionaire.”
She snorted a laugh. “Right. Because that makes this all better.” She narrowed her eyes. “You lied by omission.”
She was beautiful when she was angry, but there was no way Wyatt was going to tell her that right now.
“I didn't mean to hurt you,” he said honestly.
She leaned back in her seat, arms still crossed. “When you said you couldn't come back to Arizona with me, I thought maybe you were running from the law. Or that you had a wife and three kids waiting for child support. Every reason not to come back was negative. It made me doubt who you were and my choice of being with you in the first place.”
“I was afraid,” he told her, guilt weighing heavily on his shoulders. “But I don't want to lose you.”
“You kept a huge part of who you are a secret.” She glared at him. “Yet you expected me just to drop my life and everything I know to be with you. To be with someone who doesn't feel the need to tell me the truth.”
He sighed. Where was that wine?
“I should have told you,” he admitted. “But, I was afrai
d of what would happen. Would you have stayed for me? Or for the money?”
She fidgeted slightly. “You should have told me.”
“You're right. I should have.” He looked up at her, his heart pounding in his chest. “I made a mistake. I'm asking you to give me a second chance. Let me make things right.”
Her mouth pursed and he felt like he might be sick. He needed her in his life. Just these past few days had made him miss her terribly. It didn't feel right to be in a world without her.
“Fine. But no more secrets. No more lies of omission,” she told him. “You tell me everything, and I'll do the same.”
He sighed with relief. The world no longer felt like it was going to spin out of control. He had a chance to make things right with the most amazing woman he'd ever met, and he wasn't going to screw it up again.
“What do you want to know?” he asked. “I'll tell you anything. Everything.”
A flicker of a smile crossed her face. “Start with why you were bar-tending. You're a billionaire. You don't need to work.”
“But I like to work,” he told her. “I like to feel useful.”
“So, why not work for a charity or something?” she asked.
“I have a charity. It's through the company. But I wanted something for myself. All my life, I've just been my father's heir. The company has dominated everything I do. I never had a real childhood. I never got to be a rebellious teen, and my wild twenties, and thirties, were all spent making sure the company was taken care of,” he explained. “I wanted some of my life to be just for me. To have something, a job, that was purely my own. Not my father's, or my company, or even a friend's. Something that was only mine.”
The wine arrived, and he gratefully took a sip. Cassie sipped gingerly on hers.
“I tried just doing nothing for a while,” he told her. “But it was boring. I was so used to doing something all the time; I couldn't relax. I fell into tending bar by accident and ended up loving it. It felt enough like work to keep me busy but fun enough that it wasn't work. Plus, no one ever suspected who I was. It would be absurd for a billionaire to sling drinks.”
“That's definitely true,” she agreed. Again, there was almost a hint of a smile. “I certainly never guessed.”
He ignored the jab, spinning the wine glass slowly in his fingers.
“After working for the company all my life, I was burned out. I needed a break.” He took another sip of wine, the memories floating past him like ships on a river. “The freedom was intoxicating. I could be anyone. Do anything. For the first time in my life, no one bothered me for a business opportunity. No one asked for a raise. I didn't have to wonder if people liked me, or if they just liked my bank account.”
He looked up at her. Her dark eyes were focused on him. The candlelight danced across her face, making her neutral expression hard to read. He wasn't sure if she was still angry or if she were warming to him.