Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79328 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
The words were reasonable. The implication beneath them was not.
He doesn’t trust me anymore.
I could see it in the careful way he chose his words, the slight distance that had crept into his demeanor. An hour ago, Alexander had been ready to sign. Eager, even. Now he was retreating behind a wall of professional courtesy, and I knew from experience that once that wall went up, it rarely came back down.
I couldn’t even blame him. If I were in his position, if I’d shown up to finalize a partnership and the other party couldn’t even produce the basic documents, I’d be reconsidering too. I’d be wondering what other balls might get dropped down the line. Wondering if Chuck, for all his flaws, would have let something this fundamental slip through the cracks.
My stomach churned with a toxic mix of anger and shame.
“How about we call this a day?” Alexander suggested, rising from his chair. His voice was polite, but there was a finality to it that made my chest tighten. “We can reschedule for later in the week. Give everyone a chance to… regroup.”
The hesitation before regroup said everything. It felt more like reconsider. Alexander wasn’t sure there would be a rescheduled meeting. Wasn’t sure this partnership was worth the risk anymore.
I’d watched deals fall apart before. I knew the signs—the careful distancing, the noncommittal language, the polite retreat that preceded a quiet withdrawal.
“Of course,” I heard myself say. “I appreciate your understanding. I’ll have my office reach out to reschedule at your earliest convenience.”
We shook hands. His grip was firm but brief, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. And then he was gone, leaving me alone in the conference room with nothing but my failure for company.
The elevator ride down felt endless. I stared at my reflection in the polished metal doors—jaw tight, eyes hard, every line of my body rigid with barely contained fury. But beneath the anger was something worse. Something that felt uncomfortably like devastation.
I’d done this to myself. I’d let someone in. Let myself believe that this time would be different, that Raina was different. And she’d proven me wrong in the most spectacular way possible.
Or maybe you’re wrong about her.
The thought whispered through my mind, but I shoved it aside. I couldn’t afford doubt right now. Couldn’t afford to make excuses for her when the evidence was so damning. She’d had one job—one job—and she hadn’t even bothered to show up, text me, or call.
The elevator opened onto the lobby, and I strode toward the exit, my shoes clicking sharply against the marble floor. Sunlight hit my face as I pushed through the glass doors, temporarily blinding me.
“Simon!”
The voice cut through the ambient noise of the street, and I froze. Raina was rushing toward me across the parking lot, her blonde hair disheveled around her shoulders, her careful professional appearance in disarray. She moved like someone who’d been running—breathless, urgent, slightly wild around the edges.
She stopped directly in front of me, close enough that I could see the flush in her cheeks, the distress in her eyes. “I’m so sorry I’m late. I had to—”
“Late?” The word came out cold and sharp enough to cut. I barely recognized my own voice. “The meeting’s been cancelled. The whole damn deal might be off after this disaster.”
Her face crumpled. “Oh no.” Her gaze shifted to the building behind me, as if she could somehow fix this by sheer force of will. “Maybe if I talk to Alexander, explain why—”
“Explain?” I cut her off, not wanting to hear whatever excuse she’d manufactured. She’d let me down—completely, catastrophically—and hadn’t even had the courtesy to call. “There’s nothing to explain. And there’s no way in hell I’m letting you anywhere near Alexander right now. For all I know, you’d just make it worse.”
Her eyes snapped back to mine, and I saw something fracture in her expression. Hurt. Confusion. And beneath it, the first flicker of anger.
“What are you saying?”
I should have stopped. Should have taken a breath, let her speak, given her a chance to explain. But the fear and betrayal churning in my gut had built to a pressure I couldn’t contain, and the words spilled out before I could stop them.
“Are you working for Chuck?”
She recoiled as if I’d struck her, taking an unsteady step backward. “What?”
“Was this planned?” I pressed on, the accusation gaining momentum even as some part of me screamed to stop. “He couldn’t get Alexander’s business on his own, so he got you to sabotage my chances instead?” A bitter smile twisted my lips. “It’s clever, I’ll give you that. Make me trust you with something critical, then destroy my credibility by not following through. Chuck always did know how to play the long game.”
Raina stared at me like she was seeing a stranger. Her face had gone pale, her eyes wide with a shock that looked genuine, but I’d been fooled by genuine-looking things before.