“Oh my God.” Maddie places her container onto the coffee table and scoots over next to me, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “What happened? It’s okay to cry,” she tells me. Of course she would say that. She’s the emotional one. I’m not. This isn’t me. It’s not who I am.
“You know about Adrian,” I barely manage to get out. “You heard the gossip at lunch, and you know what those rumors say and you know it’s true but … it’s not just sex.”
Maddie’s eyes are wide. She keeps giving me little nods, like she’s following along, but when the pause comes her mouth drops open. She cracks a bright smile. “It’s not just sex? Is it—”
“No,” I cut her off. “It’s more than that.” Another sob wracks me and it only frustrates me more. “I think I’m falling for him.”
Adrian
Sitting in the office, overlooking the city, I come to one conclusion. There’s only one reason I would negotiate everything like I have the past three days. Every meeting, the marketing department and client list was mentioned. Every deal, the number went up, with the condition it was included in the acquisition of the company … and I turned all of them down. Settling for less. Barely breaking even on a deal I spent months pursuing.
It was all to her and compromising every other deal.
Of course they took what I offered, though. Everyone who needed to sign, did so. Ending the majority of their competition was a worthwhile deal for them. Even if the coveted list remains with Suzette. Her job is secure. It will be unsteady for a while I imagine as she adjusts. She will, though, she will survive and she will thrive. There’s no doubt in my mind, even from the numbers’ side, and the team agrees. It’s not cost-effective and it’s a risk to float the company, but for her, knowing that there’s not a chance in hell her position will be in jeopardy, it’s worth it.
And there’s only one conclusion I can make of that. It would have been a quick few million, freeing up my cash flow, ending one project and moving on to the next. Instead, I’ll be supporting a company who may lose clients, whose stock will plummet once the split is finalized. A company that will have to prove themselves … a company run by her.
* * *
I think I love her.
I think I want to propose to her.
* * *
My phone rests in my lap and I stare down at the messages I typed out. I delete the two texts. It’s insanity. Running my hand through my hair, I groan at the ridiculousness of it all.
I haven’t a clue how Suzette will even react once reality hits her. I’ve gifted her a company. Technically the board will meet and vote on the positions needed to be filled to move forward. She will be nominated and everything she worked for, will come to fruition.
Heat tingles along my skin, not knowing how she will take it.
The meeting is set for next week and my instinct screams to secure her before then. To propose, to woo her, so that when the time comes and it dawns on her, she’ll already be mine.
All of that doubt and insecurity will be worthless if she’s already wearing my ring.
It’s one thing for a man infatuated to shower a lover with wealth, a lover with trust issues and one that seems to be ready to run any minute. It’s another for a future husband to secure his fiancée’s livelihood.
The only question that remains is whether or not she’ll say yes. Whether she wants me like I want her.
I’m infatuated. I’ve lost my fucking mind over her.
* * *
I think I’ll propose to her. I type it out to Wyatt and wait a moment, debating on whether I should do it without telling anyone. I could take her to any jewelry store she wanted, let her choose the ring she wants most and do it then and there.
My thumb hovers over the message.
I already know Wyatt is going to try to talk me out of it. That’s what I would do, if he texted me out of nowhere that he wanted to propose to a woman he just met last month.
A woman who’s gotten into his head and clouded everything.
But isn’t that what love is?
* * *
I don’t have a moment to send it. Wyatt and my father message me at once.
Wyatt’s message asks if he can see me.
He adds: It’s important. As soon as you can, I need to see you.
An anxiousness comes with my father’s message: You didn’t sign that contract, did you?
My gut drops and Wyatt messages: Where are you? I’ll come to you now. I fucked up. It’s all fucked up.
There’s a prick at the back of my neck, a numbness that flows through my veins.