Haley

“Haley, take a seat,” Diana said from behind her desk.

I sank into a chair opposite her with mild trepidation. It was rare that she summoned me to meet with her in person since we mostly communicated by e-mail. As one of the Zenith asset coordinators, she was responsible for helping me complete the program on time. While I didn't think there were any concerns on that front, I was still anxious to know why she'd called me into her office.

“I wanted to check in and see how your training is going. I noticed that you've been completing the assignments more quickly than we even anticipated.”

“Is that a problem?”

She gave me a warm, reassuring smile. “Not at all. We encourage everyone to learn at their own pace. My only concern is making sure you continue to feel challenged by the material.”

“The program is rigorous, and I'm very much enjoying the challenge.”

“I'm glad to hear that. Please, feel free to let me know if that changes.”

“I will,” I promised, a sense of relief washing over me.

“In light of your accelerated progress, I'd like to discuss some additional training opportunities with you. The first is an intensive Spanish review to ensure that you're fluent by graduation. In addition to your regular assignments, you'd participate in daily immersion studies with a native Spanish speaker.

“The program is very flexible and conducted entirely through the online portal. You simply schedule a convenient time to connect with one of our Spanish coaches, login, and video chat for an hour or more four to five times a week. Is that something that would interest you?”

“Definitely.”

I'd been practicing my conversation skills with Theo, and while he was a great tutor, I needed more of a challenge. As he often reminded me, he was proficient, not fluent. He was surprisingly well-versed in the curse words, though, which was ironic considering his aversion to swearing in English.

“Excellent. I'll send you the link so you can get started.”

While she composed the e-mail, I glanced around her office, noting the lack of personal items, the absence of family photographs. Was it a safety precaution in a business that valued security at all costs? Or was it because she had never married, placing a higher priority on her career than her love life?

“The second opportunity,” she said, interrupting my speculations about her life outside the office, “is a course taught by D.C. Regional Director, Kenneth James. As one of our leading strategy experts, he offers a focused training session each year. I believe you could benefit from his leadership, and I'd like to nominate you for it.”

I stared at her with my mouth agape. She wanted to nominate me? My fellow trainees were willing to do almost anything to get an in with one of the directors—since they had the final say on whether we were offered a position with Zenith—and this had practically fallen into my lap. Not only would it be a great opportunity for me to learn from one of the best in my field, it could also boost my chances at being offered the strategic coordinator position I wanted after graduation.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, absolutely. Thank you.”

“I can't promise anything, but I think you have a good shot.” I nodded, hoping she was right. “Unless you have any questions for me, I'll let you get back to it. I apologize for cutting into your lunch break.”

My stomach growled as if on cue, and I stood from the chair before it could broadcast its desires even louder. After a morning of hand-to-hand combat practice, I was starving.

“Thanks again, Diana.”

“Of course. Oh, and Haley,” she said, and I paused at the door, “I'll keep you updated on the nomination, but it will likely be a few weeks before I hear anything.”

I nodded and slipped out of her office, wishing I could skip down the corridor. Every day, every simulation, every online module was a chance for our instructors to evaluate us. I now understood, better than ever, the pressure Jackson felt to succeed on his own merits and not because of his relationship with Patrick.

Ever since Chase disrupted class to collect me, and I'd subsequently missed several days of training to go to Dallas, everyone knew of my connection to Team Jaguar, even if they didn't fully grasp the true nature of it. I sensed that they wavered between awe, jealousy, and worse still, disdain. Regardless of what my fellow trainees thought, I was determined to show that I could outwit, outsmart, outshoot, and outrun the best of them.

After class, I headed to Liam's penthouse, looking forward to spending a relaxing evening alone with him. Fresh from the training center, I was sporting the uniform required of all recruits—cargo pants, Henley, and boots. It wasn't the sexiest look, but in my rush to beat traffic, I hadn't stopped to change after class ran late.

When the door swung open, I was completely unprepared for the sight before me—Liam was tall, dark, and mouth-watering in a black tuxedo. The fabric was perfectly tailored to his lean figure, the dark sheen of the material in stark contrast to his white shirt and black bow tie. His gray eyes sparkled with excitement and an emotion I couldn't quite name.

Surprised by his unexpected attire, and trying to calm my heart that was beating at a rapid clip, I blurted, “Are you expecting someone else? Maybe a leggy blonde in a ball gown?”

I instantly regretted it, hating the way his face fell.

“I'm so sorry, Liam. You caught me off guard with the tuxedo. I swear I didn't mean it.” I stepped closer, needing to soothe the ache in my chest from his pained expression. “I'm sorry.” Stretching up on my tiptoes, I softly pressed my lips against his.

“You know you're it for me, right?” He took my hand in his, his voice soft yet full of steel. I met his eyes as he pinned me with his laser-like intensity. “I would never, ever, disrespect what we have by being with someone else.”

“I know.” I gulped, realizing I couldn't repeat a similar promise when I was also dating his four best friends.

“Gorgeous, I see those wheels turning.”

My shoulders slumped, and I wished I could erase the past five minutes. “Let's try this again.” I shut the door before he could react and proceeded to rap my knuckles on it. “Is James Bond home?”

“No, but the sexy, suave, and scintillating Liam Carlyle is.” His bravado would have been laughable were it not the truth.

“I guess I'll just have to come back later.”

“Don't you dare.” The door flew open, and he yanked me inside, kissing me quickly before ushering me through his apartment. “We need to leave in less than an hour. Can you be ready by then?”

“Ready for?”

“A tour of France and Italy.” My jaw dropped, but he continued speaking as if he'd said nothing out of the ordinary. “No passport required, and I promise to have you home by midnight. But I need you to promise me that you'll enjoy yourself without reservations.”

Still trying to process everything he'd said, I was thoroughly confused. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I know you shun extravagance, but for one night, I want you to embrace it. Let me spoil you.”

“Unfortunately, my evening gown is at the cleaners,” I joked nervously.

“I believe you'll find everything you need in the bedroom.” I opened my mouth to press for answers, but he interrupted me. “The more questions you ask, the less time you have to get ready. Tick tock.” He swatted my butt playfully, leaving me no choice but to comply.

Entering the bedroom, I wondered what in the world Liam had in store. Since it was our first night alone in a while, I'd assumed he'd want to stay in and keep me all to himself. Apparently, he had other ideas.

A beautiful dress hung from the closet doorframe, a cascade of navy sequins shimmering in the light. Everything from shoes to a wrap had been laid out with care, and I fingered the delicate lace of the underwear with a thrill of excitement. Undeniably curious about our plans for the evening, I hoped the final look would live up to Liam's expectations, especially after he'd gone to such trouble.

I rinsed off in the shower before refreshing my makeup, transforming it into more of a nighttime look. Using the browser on my phone, I navigated to Max's new YouTube channel, scrolling the handful of posts for the tutorial I wanted. I quickly duplicated the style, twisting and braiding my hair to one side and over the shoulder before pinning it in place. Loose waves spilled down my front, completing the romantic look.

I returned to the living room, the floor-length sequin gown swishing with every step. Suddenly anxious, I twirled my mom's ring around my finger, wondering what Liam would think. I shouldn't have worried; as soon as he caught sight of me, his eyes widened and he was at my side within a few strides.

Unable to speak from the way he looked at me, lovingly, longingly, I remained silent as he circled me. When he dragged a finger over my shoulder and down my bare back, I shivered at the intimate touch and the hunger in his eyes.

“You are truly magnificent.” He kissed my shoulder, his chest nearly pressed to my back.

I turned to face him, wrapping my arms around his neck. “You look very handsome.”

“Mmm, is that praise I hear coming from your beautiful lips?” he teased in a husky voice, resting his forehead against mine.

“Don't get used to it.”

“Oh, I have a feeling you'll be singing my praises before the night is over.”

I opened my mouth to challenge him, but he pressed his lips to mine, silencing me with a surprisingly gentle kiss. His hands feathered over my bare skin as he continued to caress my lips with his, enticing me with the promise of more. Withdrawing, he linked our hands and placed one final kiss on my lips.

“Mon couer.” He gestured toward the door, and I wondered if his subtle use of a French endearment was yet another hint.

After a short drive through downtown, we arrived at one of the nicest restaurants in Silicon Valley. Liam had once mentioned his desire to eat here, but between its reputation for an extensive wine list and amazing food, reservations were usually booked several months in advance.

The restaurant was intimate, dimly lit, and filled with elegantly dressed couples sipping wine. The host led us to a table near the window before pulling back my chair and placing a napkin on my lap. We had a view overlooking downtown San Jose, the sun setting over the skyline with the mountains behind.

“How was training?” Liam asked over the top of his menu, a menu that detailed the options in both French and English yet failed to list the prices.

Realization hit me—we were touring France by exploring its cuisine. And, if that was the case, what would constitute our visit to Italy? Gelato? That still didn't explain the need for formal attire.

“Good,” I responded quickly. “Difficult,” I added, finally focusing on his question.

“Learn anything useful?”

I lowered my voice, hoping nearby couples wouldn't overhear. “That I need to work on my lock-picking skills. The movies make it seem a lot easier than it is.”

“If you want some good experience, try breaking into Patrick's house.”

“Have you? Tried, that is.”

“He left Jax and me little choice when he locked us out in our pajamas as a 'training exercise.' It took us most of the night, but we finally managed to find a way in without tripping the alarm. Judging from the look on his face, I'm almost positive he didn't think we'd be able to do it.”

I laughed, loving Patrick even more for challenging the guys with such a unique test—one that I knew had to be difficult based on the layers of security I'd seen from my visits to his home.

“I don't think I'd be able to do it.”

“You are capable of great things, gorgeous. Don't ever doubt that.”

My cheeks heated from the unexpected compliment and the conviction in his voice. Tempted to tell him about being nominated for Kenneth James's strategy course, I decided to keep the news to myself until I knew if I'd been selected. And, not wanting to spend the entire meal discussing work, I changed topics to lighter matters.

The wait staff was so unobtrusive, there was barely a lull in conversation as they took our order and later delivered our food. And, oh, the food; it was incredible. Asparagus and lobster in puff pastry with a light lemon-cream sauce to start. Sliced filet of beef, served atop a cloud of mashed potatoes with the most beautiful array of vegetables I'd ever seen. To finish, profiteroles filled with vanilla ice cream and drizzled with caramel and chocolate.

Liam smiled at me from across the table, and I still couldn't believe my good fortune. I had a man who was charming, sexy, and generous. The date was extravagant, but it was Liam and his affection that made me feel spoiled.

“France was divine.” I sighed, knowing our dinner would rank as one of the best meals of my life.

Too contented to contemplate our next destination, I nestled into his side as we walked down the sidewalk. But when we turned the corner, my gaze was immediately drawn to the bright lights of the California Theater. Tucked between modern buildings and glass-front skyscrapers, the historic structure was breathtaking.

Liam extracted two tickets from his breast pocket and presented them to me. “Italy awaits, mi amore.”

I glanced back and forth between him and the theater, where patrons filed through the doors beneath the marquee advertising, “Opera San Jose presents The Marriage of Figaro.” He offered me his arm, escorting me across the street.

“I'm still not sure I understand the connection to Italy,” I said as we joined the line to enter.

As soon as we stepped through the doors, it felt as if we'd been transported to a bygone era. The interior of the building was rich with ornate details, from decorated wood-paneled ceilings to intricately carved metal lanterns.

“You'll see. Or rather, you'll hear the connection.”

“The opera is performed in Italian,” I answered with sudden clarity, not waiting for his confirmation.

After asking a bystander to snap our photo, we ventured into the theater, taking our seats in the center of a row not far from the stage. Amazed by the evening Liam had planned, I leaned over and kissed his cheek as the lights dimmed and the orchestra started to play a lively tune.

Throughout the opera, I could feel his eyes on me, watching me. Did he think I was ridiculous for fuming over the Count's advances toward Figaro's bride, swiping away tears when the Countess lamented her husband's infidelity through a beautifully haunting song, or rejoicing when everyone lived happily ever after? Three hours passed by in the blink of an eye, and when the final note was sung, the audience leapt to their feet, applauding enthusiastically until the curtain fell.

“This way.” Liam tugged on my arm, leading me in the opposite direction of the crowd exiting the theater and toward a dimly-lit corridor.

“Are we supposed to be back here?” I whispered, glancing around while he pressed an elevator call button I hadn't noticed.

“Trust me, you won't want to miss this.” That didn't answer my question, but I followed him into the narrow elevator, placing my trust in him, as I always would.

* * *

Liam

“Close your eyes,” I said as the lift came to a halt.

Haley briefly scrutinized me but ultimately complied. I took the opportunity to study her, lingering on the way the dress hugged her curves. The sequins sparkled in the light with even the smallest of movements. It was mesmerizing; she was mesmerizing. Long ago, she had captured me with her beauty, her wit, and her heart, and tonight, I planned to finally tell her.

Wrapping an arm around her waist, I led her onto the roof of the theater, the gravel of the narrow pathway crunching beneath our feet. My heart wanted to surge out of my chest, and I felt simultaneously eager and nauseated. I’d never told a woman I loved her. What if she didn't say it back? Worse yet, what if she didn't love me in return?

Plagued by doubts, I sucked in a deep breath for courage and squeezed her hip, watching as her eyes fluttered open. She was speechless, soaking in the secret rooftop garden and the city humming around us. So far, so good, I thought.

“This is . . . just, wow,” she said on an exhale, a soft smile gracing her beautiful face.

I lifted her hands to my shoulders, wrapping my arms around her waist, certainty replacing fear—I never wanted to let her go. Gazing into her hazel and honey eyes, I mentally ran through my speech once more, hoping I could convey the sincerity and depth of my feelings.

“Haley.” My voice sounded weird to my ears.

“Yes, Liam.” She stared back at me, her lips parted in anticipation. This was it, the moment I'd been preparing for.

“Do you know why I call you 'gorgeous'?” I paused, watching as she smiled up at me, not wanting to miss a moment. “It's because you are beautiful inside and out.

“I am so very fortunate to have you in my life. I love cooking with you, waking up with you in my arms, and seeing you dressed up for the opera. You bring something to my life that was missing, and I . . .” I swallowed, the words thick on my tongue. “I wanted to say thank you.”

Brilliant, I fucking choked. Three simple words, eight letters, and one epic failure for the king of smooth talking.

Haley's face fell, but she recovered quickly, masking her disappointment with a bright smile. “Thank you for an incredible evening. It was one I'll never forget.”

“Nor will I.”

The moment had passed, and I told myself it was for the best. I didn't want the declaration to come off as disingenuous, the sentiment losing its luster with a cliché setting. But as we stared out over the neighboring rooftops, her back to my chest, and my arms wrapped around her, I made a vow. One day, I would tell her. Until then, I would do everything in my power to show her how steadfast and fervent my love was.