It’s a hard thing, to stare at an elevator, unable to tear your eyes away from the silver doors, while also pretending you don’t care at all about who steps out of them.

Only I do care. I care so much that after ten minutes I give in, take a seat on one of the benches in the building’s lobby, and stare.

It’s not the image I like to project of myself—some lovelorn, pathetic man staring at an elevator—but there’s nobody I recognize in the lobby. I’ll still be able to maintain my reputation as one of New York’s most powerful businessmen after this potentially mortifying trip to the Gabriel Luxe offices.

I hope.

At least I’m not sitting in the actual offices, which is perhaps the only saving grace of the entire situation. 

The woman I talked to on the phone, Bernadette, did not sound enthusiastic about taking my message to Isabella. I explained who I was in the interest of honesty. This isn’t a game anymore, and I didn’t want to start this off with some kind of deception to get the love of my life—because that’s what she is, the love of my life—down to the lobby to have a conversation with me. I wanted it to be on her terms. 

I regret that more and more with every minute that goes by. 

I called the Gabriel Luxe offices the moment they opened for business, looking for the person mostly likely to handle investors and other kinds of projects like the one I’m about to propose, and got Bernadette. Of course, that doesn’t mean Isabella was ready to take a meeting with her as soon as I hung up. I waited as long as I could before I came here, anyway. It’s well past lunch. That doesn’t really mean anything. She could still be busy. Isabella is usually busy, but Bernadette did say she would be in during the afternoon, so...

The elevator doors slide open, and my heart crashes against my ribs. 

Two silver-haired men step out, talking heatedly about a baseball team.

My shoulders sag at the sight of them.

The doors close again, and the elevator goes back up. 

I have no idea if she’s going to come down or not. And if she does...

The doors open again, the gentle ding taking over my entire life. I flick my eyes toward it, not daring to hope.

Isabella steps out into the lobby.

Her mouth is pressed into a thin, nervous line, and her eyebrows are drawn together. My entire chest aches at the sight of her, looking for me, scanning the space with her arms crossed over her chest, like she might need to ward off an attack.

I stand up, and the movement catches her eye.

There’s a flicker of a smile on her face.

It gives me enough hope to force myself into movement, to cross the lobby, and to stand next to her. The scent of her in the air, clean and familiar and lovely, is almost too much to bear.

Isabella takes a breath in and opens her mouth, but no words come out. Not for a moment, at least. “I’m supposed to be meeting with a potential investor.”

I laugh, and some of the tension in my chest breaks apart. Isabella looks like she might consider smiling if everything goes exactly right, but something in the way she holds herself relaxes. A little. “That would be me.”

Another breath through her nose. “What are you hoping to invest in, Jasper?”

My name on her tongue is the sliver of an invitation. She could have said you horrible man or you prick, but she went with my name. This is a good sign. Right? “Would you like to come somewhere with me?”

She raises her eyebrows. “Right now?”

I think of her marching into my office, not taking no for an answer. I think of her eyes flashing with anger and confidence. The Isabella who walked into my life that day would consider it, then tell me to screw off. She only ever goes anywhere if she’s decided on it herself. 

“Unless you’d rather...meet up another time. Or not at all.” It’s a risk, throwing that last option out there. She might take it. 

Instead, she waits, her gaze flicking down to the floor and then back up at my eyes. “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m very busy.”

“It won’t take much of your time.”

She nods her head toward the elevator. “You’re sure you wouldn’t rather come sit in my office? I’m sure I’ll be able to give you a yes or no fairly quickly.”

It’s too businesslike, the tone of her voice, but there’s a tremble underneath that tells me this is no business dealing. Not for her. She hasn’t moved on yet. At least, that’s what I’m hoping. Desperately.

“There’s something I’d like to show you.”

Isabella squares her shoulders, drawing herself up to her full height. “I’m not sure that I should go anywhere with you.” Her voice is oddly formal, but I catch the quiver in her lip that she tries to hide, and there’s a strain in her tone that drives home how hard it is for her to even be standing with me.

“No, you shouldn’t.” I lower my voice so that the words are for her, and her only. “You shouldn’t, because I hurt you. And I know that. The things I said to you were—” I look away from her, but I force my gaze back to her eyes. “You’re well within your rights to never forgive me. If you want to walk away right now, I won’t stop you.”

“You came all this way willing to be humiliated in the lobby of my building?” She’s trying her best to lighten the unbearable heaviness of all this, and my heart breaks all over again.

“I’m hoping it won’t come to that.” I give her a tentative smile. “But yes.”

Isabella sighs, making a show of glancing down at her watch. “I’ll give you half an hour.”