ROMAN SMOOTHED ALLIE’S hair back from her face. “You’ll have to get moving if you’re going to make your flight.”
She swatted at his hand without opening her eyes. “Screw it. I’m not going back to New York. I’ll just stay here until they kick me out.”
He felt the same way, though it wasn’t the island that had Roman wishing he could make this moment last forever. He wasn’t ready to let this thing with her go. It was a truth he’d been working toward for some time, but this morning, knowing that they were going to board their respective flights back to New York and go back to their normal lives... The stakes were suddenly sky-high. “Come out with me tonight.”
“What?” She finally opened a single eye. “What are you talking about?”
“Tonight. After we’re both settled. I want to take you on a date.” He didn’t exactly form it as a question, but Roman knew all too well how fragile the limb he stood on was. They’d spoken about changing the rules, but he’d just thrown every single one of them out. Roman stroked his hand down her arm and laced his fingers with hers. “I’m not ready for this to be over.”
“Roman, we talked about this. Our lives don’t match up outside of this island. Our worlds are too different—our worldviews are too different. We wouldn’t last the week before something happened that ruined us for good.” She shifted to look down at their joined hands. “And that’s not even getting into the whole ‘your investor’s trying to buy my gym out from underneath me’ thing.”
She was determined to see the worst in that situation, and he hadn’t had the chance to convince her otherwise because every time it came up, suddenly they were having sex. Roman knew damn well that Allie was trying to keep them both distracted, and he couldn’t exactly be pissed at the side effect, but he wanted to talk to the infuriating woman. “Have dinner with me. We’ll talk about all the shit we’ve been avoiding up until now. If at that point you’re sure you don’t want me to facilitate someone investing in the gym, then I won’t.”
“Just like that?”
“Just like that.” It wouldn’t be just like anything. His client was interested in the gym and she had a clear vision over what she wanted for its future—a vision Roman shared. It wouldn’t be easy to find a replacement, but he’d make it work. If Allie actually talked to him. “What do you say?”
Still, she hesitated. He could practically see her weighing her desire not to go to that dinner against the chance to get him to back off once and for all. Finally, Allie nodded. “I can’t do tonight, but tomorrow I’m free.”
“Tomorrow it is.” He pressed his lips to her forehead. “As much as I want to seal this with a kiss, if I start kissing you, we won’t stop until lunch and you have a plane to catch.” He bit back the impulse to tell her to stay—that they really could just live on the island indefinitely and leave their lives behind. That peace wouldn’t last. No matter how effectively they’d checked out of reality for the week, given enough time, real life would come creeping into their time here. Hell, it already had. Allie had done her best to avoid it, but Roman was a realist—they needed to get their shit out in the open so they could deal with it.
They had no chance of a future without that.
Before he could reconsider kissing Allie, she was out of the bed and pulling her clothes on. “I’d better go. If left to her own devices, Becka will pack my stuff and her version of packing is to shove everything in and wrestle with the bags until the zipper is in danger of breaking. Better for both me and my luggage if I do it myself.”
“Give me your number.”
Again, the slightest of hesitations. She grabbed a piece of stationery from the nightstand and scrawled her number on it. “See you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. In New York.
No matter how much he wanted to pretend otherwise, it was a big fucking deal to bring their budding relationship home. Roman managed a smile. “Have a safe flight.”
“You, too.” And then she was gone.
He listened to her footsteps leading out of the villa, and only after they’d faded did he climb out of bed and throw on a pair of shorts. His flight was in a couple hours—the early one off the island—so he wouldn’t have a chance to see Allie again beforehand.
It took fifteen minutes to pack everything he’d brought and comb every room twice to ensure he didn’t miss anything. He took extra time to shred up the information he’d gotten about Allie. He didn’t need it. She’d given him everything when she spoke about why she’d started the gym. He knew what pressure points to push to incite the reaction he wanted...but he couldn’t do it.
She wasn’t just a stubborn business owner who needed a little pressure to do things his way. This was Allie. For her, he’d bypass the manipulations and shady dealings for plain old honesty.
Roman grabbed his bags and made his way to the lodge. It was time to get this show on the road, and he had a shit ton of work to do on the trip. All the pieces had to be in place before he saw Allie again.
The stakes were too high for it to be any other way.
* * *
Allie couldn’t wrap her mind around being back in New York. It was more than the weather, more than the sheer amount of people. It was almost like her life didn’t quite fit the same way it used to, as if it was a sweater with a tag she’d never noticed before but that itched every time she moved. To distract herself, she taught an early-morning spin class and spent the rest of the day holed up in her office going over bills and the budget for next month.
It was a shitty distraction. Nothing lined up. They’d taken their usual summer months hit in attendance to the classes, which meant less income. She was already in the red, but both the gym and the shelter were rapidly reaching the point of no return. Allie would have to start laying off her girls soon—like next week—and the thought made her sick to her stomach. The only other option was to turn away some of the women in the shelter, which wasn’t an option at all. It was like having to choose between two of her children and she didn’t even know where to begin.
She set it aside to work on later. She couldn’t call Becka, because Becka would quit on the spot. She wouldn’t worry too much about finding another job—Becka was the type of woman to jump out of a plane and figure out how a parachute worked on the way down. It was part of her charm, but Allie couldn’t ask her to make that decision.
No, who she really wanted to call was Roman. They’d spoken briefly last night—mostly to arrange a time and place for their date today—but it was nowhere near enough after having him within arm’s reach for a full week. She wanted to be wrapped up in him and have him tell her that it’d all be okay and that they’d figure it out together.
Weak. I shouldn’t have to lean on a man for strength. I should be strong enough to stand on my own.
Especially since Roman’s solution would undoubtedly be to try to convince her to sell the business and let it become someone else’s problem.
For the first time, she was actually tempted. She’d been shouldering the burden alone for so long. It was no one’s fault but her own that both the shelter and gym were in danger of going under. Running either of them was a full-time job and Allie was trying to do both by herself. If she’d just been willing to find a business partner she could trust...
At twenty-two, she’d been sure that the only person she could trust was herself. She’d needed some way to work through her grief over her mother passing, and this seemed like the best option. She was doing good; it just wasn’t working like the well-oiled machine she’d anticipated. There has to be a better way. She just didn’t know what it was.
Frustrated, she headed out. The evening classes were already covered, so there was nothing holding her there except a strange sort of guilt. There had to be something more she could be doing, but hell if she knew what it was. Maybe if she scrambled, she could throw together a fund-raiser or two this month, before it was too late. It would mean relying on her girls to run the gym while she devoted herself to event planning, which had never been her strong suit. Making cold calls to the few donors who’d helped her get the shelter off the ground was the next step, but it had always made her feel awkward and shameful—like she was begging for charity. As it was, her presence at the gym was totally and completely unnecessary at that moment, and all she’d accomplish by staying was working herself further into a spiral of worry.
Allie went upstairs to her apartment. She took her time showering and getting ready, battling nerves that told her this date was a giant waste of time and would only end in heartbreak for her. Roman had his eye on the prize—and the prize wasn’t her. It was her gym and the investor interested in it.
Knowing that didn’t douse the slow excitement building in her stomach at the thought of seeing him again. It hadn’t even been forty-eight hours and she already longed for his touch. Dangerous.
She checked the time and decided that being a little early wasn’t a bad thing. Nerves were in danger of getting the best of her as she made her way to the restaurant, but she knew Roman well enough at this point to know that he’d find a way to get ahold of her if she no-showed him. What was more, he wouldn’t make the same offer twice. This was her chance to get what she wanted—freedom.
Too bad the thought of that didn’t fill her with the expected relief. Free meant she wouldn’t be seeing Roman again. How could she when he represented such a different set of priorities than she had? Even if she was willing to give it a shot, their respective schedules would mean dates were few and far in between. If things didn’t fall apart because of their differences, they’d fall apart because neither one of them could come up with the time to make it work.
Wow. Talk about being fatalistic.
No, I’m being realistic.
She walked into the restaurant Roman had chosen. It wasn’t one she was familiar with, and she stopped just inside the door to take it all in. Everything was very modern and minimalist, which was a far cry from the shabby beach chic clutter of West Island. Nothing about the choice screamed Roman to her, but that could very well be because she didn’t know him nearly as well as she would have liked to pretend. You’re seesawing all over the place. Get ahold of yourself.
She told the waitress she was meeting Roman Bassani and was led back to a little booth tucked into the side wall facing the street. The windows weren’t big, but they offered plenty of fodder for people watching. Or they would if she could look anywhere but at Roman’s perfect face. He rose to meet her, and she couldn’t help comparing this man with the one she’d felt so connected to on the island. Her Roman was there, beneath the expensive suit and the perfectly styled hair. She could see a hint of him in those hazel eyes, but even the way he held his shoulders was different here. Harsher.
“Hey.” She wrapped her arms around herself, wishing she’d worn something fancier. But that wasn’t Allie any more than the relaxed guy in the cargo shorts was Roman. Her wrap dress was nice, but if she didn’t miss her guess, he could pay her rent for several months with that suit.
“Hey.” He took her hand and pulled her gently closer. The quick kiss he dropped on her lips made her heart ache because it was different, too. Cursory. Distracted. Lacking the heat she’d grown used to that was present in even the smallest of touches between them before.
She disengaged her hand, forced a smile and slid into her seat. “You look nice.”
“You’re stealing my line.” His lips quirked up as he sat across from her. “How was your day?”
Horrible. I can’t pay my bills. I’m realizing I care about you a whole lot more than I expected, and the writing is on the wall that both this budding relationship and my ownership of my gym will end awfully. I’m in a funk I don’t know that I’ll ever get out of. She tried to smile. “It was okay.”
Roman’s brows slanted down. “What’s the truth, Aphrodite? Because that’s not it.”
She tensed. “Let it go. Please.” The last thing Allie wanted to do was rip herself open for him. She didn’t do that for anyone. She was the strong one. The one who got through things that would break other people and came out the other side swinging with everything she had. It couldn’t be clearer that this dinner was the end. Roman wanted things she couldn’t give him—and she wasn’t talking about her gym and the shelter. He wanted parts of her.
No way.
She gritted her teeth and resolved to get to the end of this date so she could secure Roman’s promise to leave her business the hell alone. Then she’d walk. Better to end things here and now instead of letting them drag on and enact any one of the horrible scenarios she’d tortured herself with earlier.
The waitress appeared to take their drink order, and Allie was pathetically grateful for the distraction. She ordered a white wine and Roman had whiskey. Then the woman was gone and there was nothing to stand between them. She took a steadying breath. “I’m ready for your pitch.”