I paused, my muscles tensing. I needed to get out of here before I had a fucking breakdown, but her light touch effectively tethered me to the spot.
Maya looked up at me, her expression softening a smidge. “Thank you.”
My chest constricted. Of course she figured it out. She always did.
A dozen unspoken words passed between us, charging the air and making it thicken to the point of suffocation.
It set my world dangerously akilter again, but I remembered what happened the last time I’d been this off-balance. I had no desire to relive the experience.
I removed her hand from my sleeve. The brief graze of my skin against hers sent a small jolt up my arm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I walked away.
I didn’t look back, but the memory of her touch lingered. So did the echo of shattering glass.
I set my jaw and continued walking, out through the door and down the sidewalk, until those memories were nothing more than faint imprints in time.
CHAPTER 6
Sebastian
“… MAKE SURE OUR EXPENSES ARE IN LINE WITH OURfinancial goals…”
I twirled a pen between my fingers as Allen, the chief financial officer, droned on. I’d strategically picked my seat so I could stare out the windows while the rest of the execs went over last quarter’s numbers.
I hated these meetings, but as the CMO, I was required to attend them.
I held back a groan as Allen flipped to slide fifty-whatever of his PowerPoint.
It was a gorgeous day. Golden sunshine, seventy-three degrees with a gentle breeze, and the buzz of a city returning to life after Labor Day weekend.
I should be outside, soaking up the last bit of warmth in Central Park, or at least in a kitchen, perfecting my scallop recipe. Instead, I was wasting my time in an overly air-conditioned building, listening to shit I couldn’t care less about.
My recipe had to be missing an ingredient. I’d checked and triple-checked the rest of the ingredients. Their ratio was spot on,which meant—
“Sebastian.” My father’s sharp voice brought my attention back to the boardroom.
I dragged my eyes away from the skyscrapers outside to find the whole table staring at me. “Yes?”
“Please.” My father leaned back and laced his fingers together. “Share your thoughts on what we were discussing. I’d love to hear them.”
I sighed, my mind still on the scallops, but I obliged. “We’re spending too much on operating costs for restaurants in the red. One of the simplest ways to cut expenses is to reduce food waste. We can partner with local charities who could benefit from the extra food. We’ll emphasize the no-food-waste angle for marketing, get good PR for the charity work, help feed the community we’re part of, and reduce costs all at once. Four for four.”
I met my father’s gaze head-on, and the rest of the room held a collective breath as his brow furrowed.
He loved doing this shit—calling me out when I least expected it to see if I was paying attention (rarely) and, if not, whether I had the chops to land on my feet anyway (always).
I was bored to tears, but it didn’t take a genius to skim a PowerPoint slide, and whoever was sweating most profusely at the moment was the person who last spoke. That meant the topic at hand was related to their job. Today’s winner was the CFO, who’d been harping about operating costs for months.
“Good,” my father said. He nodded at his head of operations. “Corbin, put together a plan for implementing those changes. Now, talk to me about our supply chain. What’s the latest…”
I tuned him out again and checked the clock.
How had it been only thirty minutes? I could’ve sworn I’d been trapped in here for at least three hours.
On the bright side, this was my last internal commitment forthe day. Maya and I were scheduled to meet later to nail down a plan for the product collab, but at least that wouldn’t be boring.
Nothing with her ever was.