Chapter 27

After a fitful night of restless tossing and turning, I still wake up in a good mood because summer is coming and I'm eager to head down to the breakfast room, eager to see him. To burn some of my jittery energy—I want to avoid greeting Thomas like an over-caffeinated chipmunk—I take the stairs down to the dining area instead of the elevator.

Thomas is already there, nursing his coffee and looking as if he hasn't slept a wink either. I smile at the sight of him.

When our eyes meet across the room, his face lights up with a smile that makes my heart race.

He stands up, pulling a chair out for me. But before I can sit, he pulls me in a deep hug. His muscular arms wrap around me like a warm blanket, and I'm engulfed by an instant sense of peace and comfort. I allow myself a moment of indulgence to breathe in his scent—soap, man, and endless summers.

Another heartbeat and I reluctantly extricate myself from the embrace, sitting in the chair he's pulled out for me.

"Good morning, Campbell," he says with a nod, his voice deeper than usual.

"Morning," I squeak, wishing I had a programmable speech interface that could compensate for fluttery hearts.

Thomas seems oblivious to my agitation. "What's on the agenda today?"

I laugh nervously. "I have to give my presentation."

"Are you nervous?"

About the presentation? No. About him being in the audience? Yeah-ah!

"I've given this presentation before." I bite down on a croissant and shrug. "I should be fine."

"Good. I'm sure you'll do great." Thomas nods, taking a sip of his coffee.

As he drinks, I can't keep my eyes from wandering down to the way his lips glide over the rim of the cup. My mind races, wondering what those lips would feel like against mine.

Mentally slapping myself for the umpteenth time for not kissing him last night or the night before, I avert my eyes and concentrate on breakfast.

It's a lost cause. I could spend the entire day staring at the masterpiece his mouth is, but fortunately, duty calls. I need to keep reminding myself that this is still a work trip and not a romantic getaway in Italy. Until something changes, he's still going to become my boss and is therefore off-limits.

We finish breakfast and head back up to our rooms. I quickly change into my suit, tucking in my shirt and pulling the jacket neatly over it. When I step out into the hall again, Thomas is already there looking as dashing as ever in a light-gray suit with a crisp white shirt underneath.

As he looks me up and down with admiration in his eyes, my heart gets replaced by a bass drum beating at an incessant tempo in my chest. My palms get sweaty while my mouth goes dry.

He takes a few steps closer and reaches out to push away a strand of hair from my face. His fingers linger on my cheek for a moment before he lowers his hand, leaving me wanting more.

"Ready?" he asks with a crooked smile that sets my heart ablaze. I nod, not trusting myself to form coherent words in this state.

After a slow taxi ride where I fidget the entire time given our proximity in the back of the car, we reach the conference center. I follow Thomas into the lobby, carrying my notes for the presentation. I don't have to speak for another two hours, but I want to make sure I have all the material ready.

When I'm sure I have everything in order, I check my watch. We still have plenty of time to kill. We could make a quick detour to a machine learning presentation on the automatic synthesis of admissible functions for variational learning before going to my hall. It shouldn't be far from where I have to give my speech, so we could do both.

When I lift my head to check the overhead signs and orient myself, I spot my ex-boyfriend across the room instead. I squint, hoping it's just the light playing tricks with my sight, but no, it's him: Professor Samuel Williams. My quantitative methods in systems engineering professor. Yep, the one I dated after grad school while I was getting my PhD and who also turned out to already have a wife and two kids he neglected to tell me about.

Nausea rises within me like a welling tide, threatening to overwhelm me as anger and embarrassment flush through my veins.

All my confidence in my presentation skills evaporates. On instinct, I grab the jacket of Thomas's suit and hide behind him. I mean, he's a tree trunk of a man, I should be safe.

Thomas tilts his head backward, peering at me over his shoulder. "Hey, everything all right back there?"

"Please get me out of here."

Thomas's back tenses under my hands; he must register the agitation in my tone, but, luckily, he doesn't ask questions as we awkwardly side-shuffle to a corridor where I collapse on a plastic chair, hyperventilating.

Thomas kneels before me, hazel-green eyes boring into me, steadying me. "What's going on?"

I shake my head, fighting for every breath.

He places a hand on my shoulder, applying pressure in a comforting gesture. "Take a deep breath, Reese. In and out."

It's the way he says my name more than anything that steadies me. I follow his lead, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. It takes a few moments, but eventually, my breathing returns to normal.

"Better?" Thomas asks, his voice gentle.

I nod, wiping at the tears that have fallen without my consent. "Yeah. Sorry about that."

"Don't apologize." He reaches out to brush an errant tear from my cheek with his thumb—it sort of makes me want to keep crying. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I take another deep breath, steeling myself to speak.

"I saw someone." I pause, unsure of how much I want to reveal. "An ex."

Thomas's eyes widen. "Ah. I see…"

"I'm not still into him or anything," I explain. "But it's been years since I last saw him, and gosh I still hate him." A bitter laugh escapes my lips.

Thomas stands up from his kneeling position on the floor and sits in the chair next to me. "Why do you hate him?"

"He…" Before I know it, the entire story is spilling out of me. "We were together for two years and for that entire time, he had a wife and kids, a separate life I knew nothing about, that I didn't even suspect. I was so na?ve. I drank up every one of his lies, never questioning why we couldn't spend a single holiday together or why he was gone most weekends."

Thomas stares straight ahead. "How did you find out?"

"His wife came to his city apartment while I was there."

He looks at me now, eyes intense. "What did you do?"

"Ah." I slap my thighs. "I panicked, of course. I pretended to be the cleaning lady and scrubbed the entire place before I left forever."

Thomas raises an eyebrow at me, his lips twitching.

The smile is contagious. "She even paid me fifty dollars for cleaning their toilets, isn't that precious?"

We stare at each other for another heartbeat and then burst out laughing.

As our laughter fades, I instinctively lean closer to him, bumping our shoulders. "I bet you've never had such a humiliating break-up."

"Hey." He gently lifts my chin. "He should be the one ashamed of himself. And my last girlfriend all but cheated on me before she dumped me."

I frown. "What do you mean?"

"That even if she hadn't technically cheated, she was already in love with another man when she left. A real man"—Thomas makes air quotes—"as she called him, not a man-child like me." He lowers his head.

I take his hand. "You're not a man-child!"

He tilts his gaze up to me, a grin on his face that doesn't match the sadness in his eyes. "That's not what you thought when you were sent the CEO's son to babysit, though, right?"

I squeeze the hand I'm still holding. "Maybe at first, but then I got to know you. Don't sell yourself short, Thomas, you are kind, intelligent, intuitive, charming, fun…"

He turns toward me fully, cupping my cheek. "You know what scares me the most about potentially dating you?"

I give him a tiny shake of the head.

"That one day you might realize I'm not smart enough for you, that my mind will never be bright enough for you."

I flash back to our first conversation about his "brain."

"I have no doubts your brain will be fully satisfactory," I joke. He smirks. Then, turning serious, I gently tap his temple. "But it's what's behind here that I really like." I lower my hand to tap his chest. "And here."

His eyes darken. Thomas grabs the finger I poked him with and kisses the tip. "Thank you for saying that; you've no idea how much that means to me."

I blush. "Anytime…"

Thomas stays quiet for a moment, watching me before he speaks. "Do you think it's a coincidence your ex is here?"

I shrug. "He's not a speaker, but I guess the only way to find out for sure is to see if he's in the audience at my presentation."

"Would that be an issue for you?"

"Probably. I still break out in hives of mortification whenever I see him."

"Then you keep your eyes on me the entire time, all right?" Thomas stands up and offers me his hand. "You're going to kill it, Campbell."