“I’d kiss every inch of your body, Sienna.”
Her cheeks turned red.
“Winston, don’t!”
“You don’t want me to kiss you?”
Sienna sighed, dropping her head in her hands. “I’m just... I don’t know.”
Damn, she was cute. I was close to throwing her over my shoulder and leaving, just get out of the building with her, but clearly things were moving too fast for her. She probably had no idea what to make of this. Hell, I didn’t know what this was. But I was going to find out.
“
I see. I’ll give you some space to figure it out, then.”
“Okay.”
Blushing, she nodded, biting her lip. I stepped back, allowing some distance between us. Ever since I’d told her about the store’s precarious situation, I felt lighter, as if the simple fact that I told her had liberated some of that pressure.
Her perspective on life in general was refreshing. She could focus on the big picture without allowing working for her goals to take over her life. Since finding out about the store’s finances, I made space for little else in my life. I’d been working tirelessly to get us out of this mess at the expense of everything else, including my parents, and that wasn’t okay. I could learn a thing or two from Sienna. Something told me that everything was better next to her.
“I’ll get back to work,” I said.
“Great idea.”
“Afraid to be too close to me?”
She grinned. “Don’t want to give you a chance to change your mind.”
“We can’t run that risk, can we?”
Chapter Twelve
Winston
That evening, I went out to meet some friends I hadn’t seen since college. The day after that, I took my parents out to afternoon tea at the Fairmont hotel in Nob Hill.
“This is a pleasant surprise,” Mom commented.
“Mom, it’s tradition for us to go out for holiday high tea,” I said as we sat at a round table. We’d come to Laurel Court, the hotel’s restaurant, for years. I took in the circular room with Ionic columns and murals. The plush leather seats and light blue carpet were just as I remembered them. The restaurant was full, but the tables were spaced out enough that the atmosphere was intimate.
“Well, yes, but lately, you’re so lost in your own head. Didn’t expect you to take us out this week.” I’d chosen this week because Dad had informed me that Mom had been working tirelessly on Thanksgiving preparations and needed a break. She refused to give in to him, but she wouldn’t tell me no.
“My phone call helped, right?” she asked after the waitress brought us an assortment of scones and pastries.
“Mom...”
“What? Sienna wasn’t very talkative, but I still think it helped.”
I looked at Dad. “Feel free to jump in at any time.”
He held his hands up. “Trust me, I tried.”
Mom elbowed him. “And I hope that was the last time you did. If I want to hover around my son, I damn well will. I only have one.”
I shook my head, laughing. I thought about what Sienna said about every old company going through cycles and different crisis. She made sense, of course. I remembered tense periods from my childhood, when my parents were working until late.
I almost asked them about those crisis periods, then decided not to. They’d catch on, and besides, the whole point of taking them to dinner was to stop thinking about the stores and just enjoy life.