Chapter 8

Istood in front of the mirror, meticulously adjusting my tie and smoothing down my suit jacket. I had showered, shaved, and put on a new suit for dinner. I was taking Isadora out under the guise of discussing business, but there was something more lingering beneath the surface, something that had been simmering between us all week.

I liked to look my best, no matter the occasion, but tonight was extra special. I wanted to make a good impression, to show Isadora that I wasn't the same boy she knew back then. I was a man.

I could treat her right and be the partner she deserved. I had made mistakes in the past, but I was determined to make amends and show her that I had changed. As I glanced at the clock, I realized it was time to pick her up. Taking a deep breath to calm my nerves, I grabbed my wallet and headed out the door.

I quickly sent her a text to let her know I was on my way, then got into the waiting car and took a deep breath. I never imagined I would get a second chance with Isadora, but here it was. It had fallen into my lap, and I didn't want to squander the opportunity.

I was certain there were still feelings there—on both sides. We had flirted a little in the office. She had seemed receptive. Her blush always deepened when I called her Dora. That was my name for her. Her response to me calling her Dora suggested no one else had used it. It was still ours and ours alone.

Which was good because I wanted her for me and no one else.

Curious about her, I was anxious to see where she lived. How she lived. Were we compatible? I recognized the address and knew it was one of the fancier buildings. When the car pulled to a stop, I hopped out of the car, but I didn't get far before I saw her walking toward me.

She was dressed impeccably, as always, her attire exuding elegance and sophistication. But it was the way the fabric hugged her curves, the way her hair cascaded in soft waves around her shoulders, that truly took my breath away. She always walked like she was on a catwalk. She dominated the space, drawing all eyes on her.

I was a little disappointed she wasn't inviting me into her space, but I understood it would take time. I had to earn her trust all over again. It was my fault her trust had broken in the first place.

"Isadora." I greeted her with a smile. "You look absolutely stunning."

"Thank you," she replied without a hint of nervousness.

I opened the door for her, a silent gesture of respect and appreciation for the woman standing before me. "Thank you."

I went around the other side, taking a moment to breathe. I had to play it cool. Tonight was important. It was the first chance to show her who I was now outside of the office.

As we settled into the plush seats of the car, the air between us was charged. I couldn't help but steal glances at Isadora, marveling at the effortless grace with which she carried herself. She was always very regal. With her poise and grace, she could easily be mistaken for a princess.

"Isadora, I was incredibly impressed with you today," I began. "Your quick thinking and expertise were truly remarkable. You saved that deal."

"Thank you, Graham. I just told the truth. I genuinely believe in the company and what you are doing here."

The car pulled up to the restaurant. I helped her out and led her inside, bypassing the many people waiting to get a table.

"Good evening, Mr. Russell." The hostess smiled. "Right this way please."

"I take it you come here often," Isadora said with a laugh.

"I'm a good tipper," I joked.

We were shown to a secluded table, the same table I always sat at. I ordered a bottle of wine for us along with the usual appetizers.

"So, how is your mom doing?" she asked. "Has she remarried?"

I shook my head. "No. She loved him and says there will never be another for her."

"Ah, that's so sweet," she said. "Is she still in New York?"

"Oh yeah." I nodded. "She's a strong woman, insists on working despite my attempts to take care of her financially. She refuses to live in the lap of luxury. She thinks I'm wasteful with the way I live."

"You've come a long way," she said.

"I have. We all have."

"How did you guys manage to build your little empire?" she asked.

"We had an idea," I answered honestly. "Spencer and Sebastian were in the same class and had to put together a marketing plan. They recruited me and they got the best grade in the class. We realized we were onto something. Jax, Derrick, and Max wanted in. The six of us worked out of a tiny little office and busted our asses. The first big client put us on the map. We kept working and I guess you can say the rest is history."

"Good job," she said. "You've built something pretty amazing."

"How is your dad?" I asked. I knew it was the right question, even if I didn't give a shit about the man.

"He's the same," she answered, her eyes revealing a flicker of pain before she masked it with a smile. "He's consumed by his work, as always. But that's nothing new." Isadora took a sip of her wine, her gaze distant for a moment before focusing back on me.

"I have to say, when I saw your application, I was surprised."

"When I saw you were hiring, I was just as surprised." She laughed. "I had just quit and was looking for something new."

"You were working for your father?"

"I have worked for him since I graduated college," she replied.

"Can I ask why you left?" I asked gently.

She took another sip of her wine. "I needed a change. I felt stagnant. I needed more. I wasn't going to get it there. Not working for him. My father will always see me as his little girl and never as someone who could one day take over the company."

I nodded with understanding. I could only imagine working for that man. "I hope you'll find what you're looking for at our company. You're off to a great start."

We avoided delving too deeply into our past. There was still some unspoken tension lingering between us.

"How come you never got married?" she asked with a coy smile.

I chuckled. "I thought I was going to one day. I wanted a family, but in the beginning when we started this business, we ate, slept, and breathed the work. We lived off ramen noodles and Taco Bell. None of us had time for girlfriends. And we didn't know if we were ever going to have any real success. I just felt like I owed a wife and kids more than ramen. The more we worked, the busier our lives got. I reached the financial security I thought I needed to have a family, but that security came at a huge cost to my time."

She nodded with understanding. "I get it."

"I can't imagine how hard it must have been for you," I said.

"It was a lot of work, but I don't regret it."

"What's your daughter's name?"

"Sloane," she answered with a smile. "Are your partners married?" she asked, once again steering the conversation away from her daughter.

"A few of them are married or almost married," I answered.

"I cannot imagine the six of you showing up to meetings." She laughed.

"What do you mean?"

"You guys all look like you stepped out of the pages of GQ," she said with a small laugh. "I would find it incredibly distracting to have to try and listen to anything you guys were saying."

She was flirting and I loved it.

"I can assure you, we take our meetings very seriously," I replied with a smirk, enjoying the banter. "But we have had our fair share of distractions. We've learned to navigate them without upsetting anyone. I think. We try."

She chuckled, swirling the wine in her glass thoughtfully. "I have no doubt about that. But it must be quite a sight to see all of you in one room."

"We do clean up nicely when we need to," I said and took a drink.

Our conversation flowed easily, moving from reminiscing about college days to discussing our current projects. We avoided any discussion involving us.

Our meals were delivered to the table, and we both dug in, savoring the food and each other's company. I found myself smiling more than I had in a long time. As we ate, the tension that had lingered between us seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of ease and familiarity.

"Have you eaten here before?" I asked her.

"A few times," she said. "But it's been a while."

"It's a new chef," I told her. "He's really made a difference in the quality of the food here." Isadora nodded, taking another bite.

As we finished our meals, Isadora leaned back in her chair with a satisfied sigh. "That was delicious. Thank you for bringing me here."

"It's my pleasure," I replied, signaling for the waiter to bring the dessert menu. "I heard their tiramisu is to die for."

Isadora's eyes lit up at the mention of dessert. "I absolutely love tiramisu."

We ordered it for her, and as the waiter placed the tiramisu in front of us, Isadora's eyes widened. She took a bite and closed her eyes. "This is amazing," she exclaimed, looking at me with a grateful smile.

"I'm glad you like it," I replied, loving that I could make her happy like this.

We sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the soft candlelight casting a warm glow around us.

We left the restaurant and got back in the car. I was tempted to reach for her hand, but I didn't think it was quite the right time. When the car stopped in front of her building, I saw an opportunity and wasn't about to let it slip by.

"I could walk you to your door," I offered tentatively.

Isadora shook her head, a faint smile on her lips. "The front of the building is fine, Graham."

I walked her to the front doors of her building, stepped in front of her, and looked her in the eyes to figure out where we stood.

"We don't have to talk about it," I finally said, my voice barely above a whisper. "But I hope you know I've always regretted leaving the way I did."

Isadora looked like I caught her by surprise. She looked away. "It was a long time ago," she said quietly.

When she looked at me again, I could see the sadness in her eyes. It was too much. She looked away once again. I reached out instinctively, cupping her cheek and turning her face back to me. She gazed up at me. My heart jumped in my chest.

"Graham," she whispered, her voice barely audible in the quiet night air.

I couldn't resist. I leaned down and pressed my lips to hers. The world seemed to fade away as our lips met, the taste of tiramisu filling my senses. Isadora's hands found their way to my chest, fingers curling into the fabric of my shirt. She melted into the kiss and it felt like coming home after a long journey.