Chapter 12

Sunlight streamed in through the balcony doors. Blackout curtains, my ass.

I scowled at the blinding sunlight and turned over on the lumpy mattress of the pull-out couch. My back instantly seized up, and I rubbed at the stubborn knot in my muscles. Men my size should not be sleeping on a "mattress" two inches thick with bars running underneath, especially when there was a perfectly good bed ten feet away.

With a perfectly good woman in it.

But what choice did I have? I wouldn't force her to share the bed, and I would consider myself less of a man if I took the nice bed while she took this garbage couch. For such a nice hotel, the pull-out was like a medieval torture device. I should have just slept on the damn floor.

With a groan like an old man, I sat up. My body protested against the stiffness that had set in during the night, but I forced my limbs to head to the bathroom. A hot shower might loosen me up and make me feel human again.

The good bed was empty. She must have gone to get coffee or just wanted to get as far from me as she could as soon as she could. I was happy to have the alone time. My feelings were as twisted up as my back.

In the shower, hot water cascading over me, I found myself lost in thought about her. Nothing in my life had felt right since she'd reappeared. I never knew what was coming next with her. And I had never felt more alive.

The scent of the bubble bath she used last night lingered in the shower, and my dick hardened painfully. Every part of me was stiff this morning.

I couldn't help but replay the memory of our kiss over and over again, though it did nothing to ease my swollen cock. Even as I allowed myself to indulge in the memory, I felt regret. Part of the memory was the hurt flashing in her eyes when she pushed me away and the icy tone of her voice as she dismissed our kiss as meaningless.

I stepped out of the shower, clean but wishing I could get dirty with Isadora. With a towel around my waist, I opened the door to see if she had returned. The sound of her voice carried into the room from the balcony. Either she was on a call or talking to herself.

I needed to talk to her too. Dread settled in my chest at the prospect. Would going out there in just a towel make the conversation easier or harder? Would she be pissed or turned on?

I was a gambling man, so I opened the French doors and stepped out into the crisp morning air.

Isadora was not on a phone call. She was videochatting with someone. On instinct, I crossed my arms over my chest. If she was talking to one of my clients, they didn't need to see my nipples. It was just bad manners.

Lucky for me, she wasn't chatting with a client. Unlucky for me, it was her daughter. Now I remember why I don't go to Vegas anymore.

Frozen, I closed my eyes and hoped the kid hadn't seen me. The shrill laugh from the phone told me I was definitely visible.

"Woah, Mom, are you by the pool? Some work trip." Her daughter laughed and it made me smile.

Busted, it was time to face the music. If I didn't act like this was super weird, maybe it wouldn't seem like a big deal. I leaned over Isadora's shoulder and waved at the pretty young lady smiling on the screen. She seemed a lot older than I had expected, but it was difficult to tell on the little screen.

"I have to go, I'll see you tonight," Isadora blurted out before she quickly ended the call.

"I didn't get to say hi," I said.

She turned around and scowled at me. "Are you out of your fucking mind? Why aren't you dressed?"

"You were gone," I replied. "I took a shower and then I heard you out here talking to someone."

"So you thought you'd pop out half-naked?!"

"I thought I'd say good morning," I said with a cocky smile. "Was that your daughter?"

"Yes, and I don't want her to think I'm out here cozying up with the boss."

I shrugged. "She thought I was a guy at the pool. And you're fully dressed. Unfortunately."

"You said this was going to be strictly professional." She groaned in frustration.

I shook my head. "It is. I slept on the couch from hell, right? And I just came out in a towel. Like you did last night, I might add. You didn't see me throwing a fit over it."

"You need to learn boundaries," she snapped and walked past me, stomping into the room.

I followed behind her, trying to figure out what her deal was. She acted like she hated me, but the moment we kissed, it was clear hate wasn't all she felt.

"Why did you apply to work for me?" I asked desperately, unable to contain the question any longer.

Her gaze dropped to the floor as she wrestled with her thoughts. "I needed a job," she finally replied. "And you were hiring. It's as simple as that."

"Nothing about you is simple," I said with a shake of my head. "And you and I both know you don't have to work."

"I want to work," she stated, eyes flashing. "I have a daughter to take care of, Graham. That's all that matters."

"You applied for the job and went through the interview," I said, not willing to let it go. "You knew you and I were going to be working close to one another. You knew we were going to be spending time together. Tell me why you're acting like you want to be as far away from me as possible? It doesn't make sense, Dora. What game are you playing?"

"I'm not playing any games," she said with her chin going up higher. "You said we could be professional. If that's going to be a problem for you, then we better figure something else out."

"Why did you apply for the job?" I asked again.

"Did you not expect people to apply for a job you posted?" she retorted.

"People—not you. This job is beneath you. You are way overqualified, which tells me you applied because it was specifically me looking for an assistant."

"Leave it alone, Graham. We have a meeting to prep for." She walked to her laptop on the table, completely shutting me out. I knew exactly what was happening even if she wouldn't admit it.

"Can you ever stop blaming me for something I did fifteen years ago?" I asked quietly.

Her response was a stony silence. She wouldn't even look at me. "We need to leave for the meeting in twenty minutes. Unless you plan on wearing that, I suggest you get moving."

With a heavy heart, I dressed in the suit I brought along, resigned to the reality of our situation. After, we got in the car and neither of us said a word. Despite my best efforts to move forward, the ghosts of our past lingered, haunting me with the memories of a love lost. And clearly, it was a love I was never going to have again. If I could even call it love.

It wasn't helping that Isadora was dressed impeccably in a smart pantsuit and killer black heels. She looked every inch the professional. There was a quiet confidence about her as we strolled into the conference room. Madison, the young lady who was our client, looked thrilled to see Isadora.

We got right down to business, and Isadora took the lead. She did an amazing job calming Madison about the price tag on our marketing services. She was as persuasive as she was beautiful. I watched her in awe as she covered the material like she was the one that put the pitch together. She had really done her homework. By the time we left the room, Madison was not only convinced but ecstatic, insisting we start on her project right away.

We left the building and got back in the car. The tension between us had somehow lessened during the meeting, but it was still there in the background. The silence wasn't as heavy with anger and frustration as it had been before. It felt more like defeat, on both sides.

We were driven to the airstrip immediately following the meeting. It was pretty clear Isadora couldn't wait to get away from me, and she needed to get home anyway. I stole glances at her as she looked out the window. Her eyes were distant, lost in a world I was not invited to.

I turned my gaze to my hands folded in my lap. It felt like we were both trapped in a maze of past mistakes and broken promises, with no clear path toward reconciliation. I didn't know how to fix this. I had hoped working together would bring us closer. Instead, it only highlighted the rift between us.

The second we got seated, Isadora put in her air pods. That was a pretty clear signal she didn't want to talk. That was fine. I needed to check in with Spencer and let him know we saved the deal.

Once we were in the air, I moved to the back of the plane to call Spencer. "The meeting went extremely well," I informed him. "Isadora was outstanding."

"Really?" he asked.

"She spent the evening reviewing the plan. When she walked in there, she knew exactly what to say. She hit all the high points. The client loved it."

"Damn," he said. "I think we need to reevaluate her position. Maybe we're wasting her talents by making her your assistant. She's capable of more than that."

"She's been on the job a week," I muttered.

"I hear what you're saying," Spencer responded. "But you might want to consider it, Graham. She's got talent."

"Let's give it some time before we make any decisions," I said. "I agree with you, but we don't need to rush."

"Okay, it's your call. How did your night go? Did you guys get out and do anything fun?"

I heard the subtext of the question—had we rekindled the old flame? He was smart enough not to ask it directly when she might be listening. For all I knew, she was hanging on my every word. She had her air pods in, but that didn't mean she was actually listening to anything. As such, I didn't want to recap things and whine about the way she treated me.

"I'll fill you in later," I promised. Not only was I worried about her overhearing, but there were some things I wasn't ready to share just yet. Some truths were better left unsaid until the time was right. I wasn't even sure what I was feeling in the moment.

I took my seat, pulling down the table to do a little work. I wondered if this was the end of the road for us. If Isadora didn't want this, if she couldn't find it in her heart to forgive me, then maybe I had to accept it and let her go. But how could I when she had just come back into my life?

I tried to work, but my traitorous eyes wouldn't stop looking over at her. I couldn't see what she was doing on her iPad. Was she reading? Watching a movie?

Whatever she was doing, she looked fucking gorgeous doing it. Her beauty was effortless, or maybe she shone brighter because she was more than just a pretty face. We had laughed together and shared secrets with each other. She knew I thought snails were gross, and I knew she had made up her own constellations when she was a kid.

She thought the regular ones were boring.

She looked up and caught me looking. "What?" she snapped.

I had to think of something. "Do you remember the owl?"

"What? Owls? What are you talking about?"

I shook my head. "Not owls. The owl?"

She blinked as the memory slipped back, and a surprised smile lit her face. "My constellations from when I was little." Her eyes met mine like she was seeing me again—the old me. "I haven't thought of that in years."

Then she shook her head and scowled at me like I had tricked her into talking. She put her pod back in and went back to whatever she was doing. She was pissed at me, but I had caught a glimpse of that old connection between us.

I had certainly felt that old connection when we'd kissed. She had pulled my hair and her hips had ground against me. The heat had been off the charts. She was pissed off, but that was because the passion was still there. If she could just forget I had been a jerk to her when I was younger, I could have shown her how good things could be between us.

Isadora had her walls up high, but I wouldn't give up just yet.

It wasn't long before the pilot announced our landing in New York City. Isadora straightened up, smoothing out her suit and pinning her hair up with practiced ease. She looked at me with cool indifference and said nothing.

She might as well have just driven a stake through my heart.