23. Orion

23

ORION

" Y ou're staring again," Remmy said, appearing at my elbow with two glasses of champagne. She handed me one, grinning. "That's the third time in ten minutes. I counted."

Most years, I had to practically beg Remmy to attend these events. Most years, I did beg her because her presence helped me feel more at ease in the social chaos. Remmy always teased that she loved coming, but loved hearing me beg even more.

This year, she hadn't even waited to be asked, and I was fairly sure I knew why. My little sister had a keen eye and seemed to know I was infatuated with Ember.

"I'm observing my employee's networking skills," I said stiffly.

"Uh-huh. And I'm sure that's why you keep looking at her like she's water in the desert." She bumped my shoulder playfully. "Mom's thrilled, by the way. She thinks Ember's perfect for you."

"There's nothing between us," I said automatically, though the thought of our nightly exchanges made heat crawl up my neck.

"Right. Just like there was nothing between you at the art gallery? Or at dinner?" She raised an eyebrow. "I saw how you looked at each other that night."

"Remmy—"

"No, listen." Her voice softened. "You know, it's okay to want something for yourself sometimes, Ry. Dad wouldn't have wanted you to spend your whole life just... providing for everyone else."

I tightened my grip on my glass. "The company?—"

"Will still be there if you take a chance on being happy." She touched my arm. "I remember how you were after Dad died. How you started wearing his old ties even though they were too big. How you insisted on paying the bills even though Mom had it covered. You were twelve, Orion. And now you’ve given me and mom so much security it’s silly. But when will it be enough? When can you finally relax and think about yourself?”

“Someone had to step up,” I said, ignoring most of her points.

Remmy gave me a look that said she knew I was being evasive, but didn’t press me on it. “You did. You always do,” she added with a sad smile. "But we're okay now. Mom and I are okay. Maybe it's time you let yourself be okay too."

Before I could respond, a familiar and unwelcome voice cut through the crowd.

"Orion Foster," Cole Northman said, striding over with his usual smug smile. "Quite the party. Though I expected nothing less from Manhattan's most... rigid CEO."

A young woman in a designer dress preened at his side. She met my eyes and seemed to push her chest out, as if daring me to look.

I kept my gaze on Cole.

"Northman," I said coldly. "I wasn't aware you were invited."

"Oh, I donated generously to the cause. Cancer research, isn't it? Very noble." His eyes drifted to where Ember stood, and something in his expression made my jaw clench. "I see you hired new talent."

"Miss Hartwell has been an excellent addition to our team," I said carefully.

"I'm sure she has." There was something knowing in his tone that I didn't like. "She has a way of... getting close to people. Wouldn't you agree?"

Every muscle in my body tensed. "Is there something specific you'd like to say?"

"Not at all." He raised his glass in a mock toast. "To new beginnings. And old endings."

As he walked away with the young woman, Remmy let out a low whistle. "Well, he's creepy. Did you see how he was looking at Ember?"

I had. And I didn't like it one bit.

"Excuse me," I said, already moving across the room.

I found Ember just as she was finishing up with the investors. She'd managed to make the notoriously stuffy Harrison brothers actually laugh—something I hadn't seen in ten years of knowing them.

She turned to me with a smile that made my chest ache. "Mr. Foster," she said, voice professional but eyes dancing. "Enjoying the party?"

"Walk with me?" I asked quietly.

She followed me out onto the terrace, where the city lights sparkled below us like fallen stars. The night was chilly, and Ember shivered slightly as we leaned against the railing.

Without thinking, I shrugged off my jacket and draped it over her shoulders. She looked up at me with mingling surprise and something else I couldn't quite read. My jacket was too big on her, making her look small and somehow vulnerable. The sight did something strange to my heart.

"I saw Cole talking to you," she said suddenly. "Did he... say anything?"

"Just the usual posturing." I studied her face in the dim light. There was tension in her shoulders that hadn't been there before. "Is there something I should know?"

She bit her lip, and for a moment I thought she might tell me something important. But then she forced a smile. "No, nothing. I just... I like working here. At Foster Real Estate. More than I expected to."

Something in her words brought me back to our “work dinner.” I was reminded of the moment I nearly admitted to her that the goal was to inherit Davenport’s factories when he died and likely tear them down to build something new, no matter what we promised or agreed to do while he was alive.

I knew Ember would hate me if she knew the truth, and I had been too much of a coward to come clean.

“But?” I prompted.

"But nothing." She pulled my jacket tighter around her shoulders. "I'm just not used to good things lasting, I guess."

The vulnerability in her voice made me want to pull her close, consequences be damned. Instead, I gripped the terrace railing, remembering all the reasons I couldn't—shouldn't—complicate this further. She was my employee. The company had to come first. It always had.

"Ember—"

"Don't," she said softly. "Please don't say whatever you're about to say. Can we just... stay here for a minute? Just like this?"

I nodded, and we stood in silence, watching the city below. She was close enough that I could smell her perfume, feel the warmth of her beside me. Everything in me wanted to turn her around, press her against the railing, and kiss her until we both forgot why we shouldn't.

But she was right. Some things were better left unsaid. Some lines were better left uncrossed.

Even if crossing them felt inevitable. Eventually, she would find out why we were pursuing the Davenport contract. I knew the longer I waited, the worse that moment would be. And yet… it was like she said. Can we stay here for a minute. Just like this.

I knew she meant on the terrace, but I found myself wanting to stay in this moment as well. This precarious point where neither of us had opened ourselves up emotionally, but we were taking our first, exploratory steps into something exciting and unfamiliar all the same.

"You know," she said finally, "your mom told me something interesting earlier. About how you used to organize people's garages as a kid."

I nodded. “She talks too much.”

Her smile turned softer. "You were trying to take care of them, weren't you? Even then."

Something in my chest constricted. "It's not as noble as that. I've just... always had a talent for seeing how things should fit together. Order. I find it comforting and safe, so I guess I got very good at creating it, even in the middle of chaos. Organizing garages, cleaning up inefficient business practices, putting together the correct team of employees for a task... It's all just creating order out of chaos."

"It's more than that. It's people. You act like you are allergic to them, but you understand them more than you admit."

"Maybe. But I also understand letting people get close is a chaos of its own. Employees who fear me are predictable pieces of the puzzle. I know how they're going to act in a given situation."

Ember frowned. "But what if the most perfect version of your company isn't perfectly ordered? What if the best Foster Real Estate is a little crazy and unpredictable? What if that one employee coming out of their shell in an important meeting makes a client see us as more human?"

I couldn't help smiling. "You never fail to surprise me, Miss Hartwell."

She licked her lips, reminding me how soft and supple they were as she stood in my oversized jacket. Her eyes seemed impossibly large as she looked up at me with the lights of the city twinkling in them against the darkness. "But you don't like surprises," she breathed. "Surprises are unpredictable. They're a form of chaos, right?"

"Maybe you're teaching me the benefits of a little chaos. Of the occasional surprise, " I added in a lower, softer voice.

I wasn't sure which one of us stepped closer, but she was suddenly close enough that I could feel how cold she was. I instinctively reached inside the jacket to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. I knew there was a chance somebody from inside might see us, but I wasn't sure I cared.

"We should really get you inside," I said, rubbing my hand in a circle on her lower back to provide some more warmth.

"I like it right here," she said, face pressed against my chest.

I did, too. I could have held her like this for hours, but I couldn't let her get any colder. "Ember..." I started, not sure what I was going to say.

"Will you send me one of those emails tonight?" she asked quietly. "Because I'd really like you to."

My whole body went white hot with arousal at her words. "I will. Yes." I held back a thousand questions I wanted to ask. Where did she touch herself when I emailed her? What did she wear? Did she use toys? Did she... ever moan my name?

"Orion..." she said softly. "I keep thinking about how your mom said you've been trying to take care of everybody since you were a kid. And the thing I come back to is how tragic that is." She slid her arms around me and squeezed me tighter, pressing her face into my chest. "Everybody deserves to be taken care of sometimes. But if you’re always taking care of everybody else, do you ever stop to let someone take care of you?"

The question hit harder than it should have. Before I could answer, the terrace doors opened and Roman stuck his head out. Ember and I reflexively took a huge step back from each other.

"Sir?" Roman said, eyes darting between us with a knowing sparkle. He paused a meaningful moment, then continued. "The donors are ready for your speech."

I nodded, straightening my tie. Inside, I could see the crowd gathering, could feel the weight of their expectations. This was who I was supposed to be—the composed, controlled CEO. Not someone who got distracted by warm eyes and gentle questions.

"Miss Hartwell," I said seriously.

"Mr. Foster," she said, mirroring my tone but flashing a flirtatious hint of a smile. She slipped off my jacket and handed it back, her fingers brushing mine. The contact sent electricity through my whole body.

As I walked to the podium, I couldn't help glancing back at her. She stood at the edge of the crowd, still hugging herself slightly against the chill from outside. Our eyes met, and I saw something like regret flash across her face.

I could still smell the faint scent of her perfume on my lapels and hear that question echoing in my mind.

Do you ever stop to let someone take care of you?

The answer, of course, was no one. That was how it had to be.

Wasn't it?