At some point, their conversation strayed away from the six-figure investment they’d made in Vet Robotics and turned into them trading stories about Melanie’s late father. James Brunswick had been a mentor to them both, in different ways.
“I remember the first time we met,” Aiden said. “There was this ‘Internship Day’ at my university and your father had been invited to speak. The second I heard that James Brunswick was going to be there…I put on my best suit and got together a portfolio with all the investment ideas I’d been racking up for my entire college career. The most recent was for a new airline that specialized in inexpensive flights to the Caribbean islands and Central America. Now, your father wasn’t even looking for an intern. He was just there to give some long-winded speech about working toward your goals and all that. He talked about his own kids and their aspirations and how despite being born with his wealth, he made sure that they had to work for every penny and I was certain that he would turn me down.”
“What made you show him the portfolio anyway?” Melanie asked.
“When you’re certain that the answer is no, there’s nothing left to lose. I cornered him in the men’s room and gave him my own long-winded speech about how expensive Caribbean flights were and how the immigration problem wouldn’t be such a problem if people just had a way to go see their family without practically having to sell everything they had and I just didn’t stop talking until I couldn’t even breathe.” He chuckled. “When I finished, all your father did was ask me what my name was and if he could have my business card.”
“Did you have a business card?”
“No,” Aiden admitted, taking a long sip of wine. “But I made do with one of my flashcards for Advanced Psych. When he called me three days later, he thanked me for informing him about the ‘Foot in the Door’ technique and told me that he wanted me to come to work for him as a paid intern. Your father took me under his wing that day, by some kind of miracle, and I thank God every second of my life for that.”
“I wish I could feel that way for my father,” Melanie said. “But he never really showed much of an interest in what I was up to. He never asked me my opinions on any business deals.”
“As his youngest child, I assume he thought he’d have more time with you,” Aiden said, wisely. “Nobody saw the heart attack coming. But I know that he was proud.”
“Do you?” Melanie scoffed, disbelievingly. She looked down into her glass of wine and swirled it around.
“Yes,” Aiden said, his voice deep, certain. “Yes, I do. Just the way he spoke about you…your father may not have expressed a whole lot of emotion in his time on earth, but I could tell that he loved his family. Especially his kids.”
“Thank you for saying that,” Melanie replied, sincerely touched. Her father’s ‘I love you’s had always been as stiff as his hugs, but deep down she had known he must have felt some kind of affection for her, despite his infidelities. Sometimes, though, she felt as if she had just been imagining it.
She was thankful that somebody else saw it, as well.
“I only speak the truth,” Aiden said, reaching for the bottle on the coffee table and refilling his own wine glass. He then offered it to her and while Melanie knew that she didn’t need more (her mind was already starting to get a bit foggy), she held out her glass with a smile and held back a shiver as his fingers brushed hers, his hand holding her wine glass steady as he poured. When she glanced up, Melanie found his eyes on her lips and felt her heart ricochet in her chest.
She swallowed thickly as she leaned back in her seat after he’d let go of her ha—wine glass. Looking away from him, she took another long sip and then set the wine glass down on the coffee table so hard she feared she might have cracked the crystal. When she was sure that she had, in fact, not, Melanie stood and cleared her throat.
“Well,” she said, “it’s getting late, so I should probably start heading home now…”
“Wait,” Aiden said and she felt his fingers wrap around her wrist. The sensation she felt from that simple touch seemed to burn straight through her. Melanie shivered and turned back, unable to keep the hope and longing out of her eyes.
But Aiden was not even looking at her, anymore. His gaze was focused on the screen of his smartphone in his hand.
“I’ll call you a car,” he said. “You shouldn’t have to take public transportation this late.”
“I was going to take a cab,” Melanie argued weakly.
Aiden scoffed. “In that case,” he said, “I insist on calling my car. It’s for company use and this was a business meeting.” His gaze shifted to the nearly-empty bottle of wine and two glasses on his coffee table. “Mostly.”
“Aiden,” Melanie said, “it’s really okay…”
He put up a finger to stop her as he placed the phone to his ear. “Harris. Yes, could you bring the car around for Miss Melanie Brunswick? She’ll be downstairs in a few moments. Thank you.” He hung up the phone and placed it in his pocket. “It’s already done,” he said with a note of finality in his voice. “Would you like me to walk you down?”
“No,” Melanie said, with a slight sigh. “This, I’ve got.”
“Alright, then,” Aiden said. “Keep in mind that Harris will let me know if you don’t show up for your ride. Please don’t make me have to worry about your safety, Melanie.”
“I won’t,” Melanie laughed. “Thank you, Aiden.”
“The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” He took her hand to shake, but ended up just holding it between them, his hand large and warm around hers. Melanie felt her entire body heat up in response to his touch. She cleared her throat and pulled away, offering him a forced smile.
“Have a good evening,” she said, far too formal, even for her own taste, before making a beeline for the door.
Her back was pressed against the elevator before she even realized that he hadn’t said goodbye in return. She wondered if that was on purpose.