Edward’s povThe room stunk of cigar smoke and that kind of expensive cologne that felt like it clung to the back of your throat. I had my butt perched on the arm of a deep leather armchair, an untouched whisky in hand while three senators debated tax reforms like it was a game of fucking poker or something.“So, Edward,” one of them, Senator Hale, leant forward with a smug little smirk curving his fat mouth, “what are your expansion plans? You got the city in the palm of your hands but we’re hearing whispers. New turf? International interests?”I adjusted my coat cuff and nodded slightly. “I’ve been considering several overseas opportunities. But if I’m going to level with you, it’s your export controls and licensing regulations that are keeping me on the fence.”There was a pause, just long enough for one senator’s brow, Parsons, to arch as he swirled his glass.“You think we’re the problem?” he said, his tone flat but with a definite poke.“I think old systems are the problem,” I r
Eloise’s pov“Truth or dare?” the woman in red said, her lips turned up as if she already knew which I was going to pick.“Truth,” I said, quietly.A few curious eyebrows went up, but they asked easy questions. Where was I from? I told them.The game went on, and a few of them did dares and touched themselves while I watched in disgust. I wondered if this was what they did at rich people’s parties. Act like animals and call it entertainment.The next round was on me as I still chose what I had chosen before. 'Truth.'They didn’t like it but I didn’t care. They asked for my deepest darkest fear and I gave them the most surface answer that anyone could ever imagine. “To fall while wearing a new heel.”That had them snickering but they moved on and when the bottle landed on me for the third time, I chose truth again.This time, they were not happy about this as it looked like I was ruining their game.Oscar leaned back, his hand on his thigh and the edges of his voice slightly sharp. “Yo
Eloise’s pov“Can we not do that for now?” I smiled and kept my eyes out the window.”Oscar glanced at me from the driver’s seat, then eased a little nearer as though he couldn’t stand all that silence. “Tell me something,” he said, not unkindly. “When are you going to stop this game of who can outquiet the other and at least let me in on what’s going on in your life?”I turned my head slightly, not enough to fully look at him. “Nope. You keep talking. You’re good at it.”“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, a bit offended at it.“I’m sorry if that showed up wrong. I just… I just meant that your stories are amazing, why stop and listen to my boring ones?”“Are you always this mysterious?”“There’s nothing mysterious about me. It’s just that I don’t want to talk. That’s all.”“Oh come on Eloise. You really need to give me something to work with here.”I didn’t say anything as Oscar was silent for a moment. I thought maybe he'd dropped it. But nope.“Fine,” he said. “You don’t want
Eloise’s pov“I needed air,” I muttered.She narrowed her eyes. “For thirty minutes?”I shrugged. “Maybe I needed a storm instead.”Sandra didn’t push. She nodded and she started to talk about random things.“What dish do we do next?”“Maybe gnocchi for the weekend crowd,” I said. “You know, the one with the blistered cherry tomatoes?”Sandra perked up. “Ooh, yes! We could top it with that lemon ricotta…”I smiled. It was faint, but real. Sometimes the only peace I got was talking about recipes. Ingredients didn’t judge you. They just became whatever you turned them into.We were mid-discussion when I heard the knock… no, more like a tap, on the kitchen service window. I frowned, walked over, and slid it open.Oscar’s face grinned back at me like he was the headline in a romcom. “Hey, chef.”I blinked. “What the hell are you doing?”He gave a charming smile. “Can’t a man come say hi to his favorite genius?”I rolled my eyes. “You’re really going all in on the charm, huh?”Oscar just
Edward’s povI just wanted to get to the elevator.That was all. Nothing fancy. Just thirty seconds of peace.But the moment I turned the corner, there he was—Oscar Monroe. Grinning like he owned the damn building.“Edward!” he called out, like we were old college buddies and not two guys barely tolerating each other for the sake of a bottom line.I stopped and looked at him for a while before taking in deep breaths.“Oscar,” I acknowledged him.“Just wanted to say—your chefs? Top tier,” he said, clapping his hands together once. “That duck confit at lunch? Blew me away.”I gave him a tight nod. “Glad to hear.”He walked up beside me, clearly not picking up on the fact that I wasn’t in the mood. “Didn’t think you had it in you to pull together something that good. Figured your kitchen would be all form, no flavor.”“Nice to know your standards are so low,” I muttered as I hit the elevator button. Harder than I needed to.Oscar laughed. “You really know how to throw a low jab huh?”“Y
Edward’s povThe door slammed. It was like she had vanished all over again.I didn’t move. I couldn’t move as I stood there in shock.My ears were still ringing from her voice. From the way she said “I loved you too” without turning around. Like it cost her something. Like saying it out loud made it real in a way she didn’t want it to be.I ran a hand down my face.Jesus Christ. What the fuck had I done?I had lost the one good woman in my life and all because I wasn’t man enough to tell her what the true excuse was.I remembered the past.She used to hum when she cooked. Always out of tune, always soft. It hit me now that since she started working here she has not been humming.The worst part? She’d tried. All the time. She brought me coffee when I forgot to eat. She ironed my clothes and she even helped me set my entire life straight. And what did I pay her with?Distance. Excuses. Charlotte.I closed my eyes.It wasn’t even about Charlotte anymore. This was about me and what I had