Chelsea leaned her head against Laurie’s shoulder. “How do you figure?”
“You can’t guard your heart, and I can’t stop guarding mine.”
She raised her head and looked at her friend. “I’d rather be like you. It’s less painful.”
“No.” Laurie sighed. “I’m beginning to think it’s just a chicken-shit way of not getting hurt, but here’s the really bad news. It doesn’t work.”
A surprising admission, considering Laurie rarely acknowledged anyone had the power to hurt her.
“At any rate, guarding your heart doesn’t involve denying honest feelings,” she continued. “Your love is valuable. Treating something so valuable like a dirty secret sells you short. Dig up some courage and tell him how you feel. Maybe he feels the same way.”
“He doesn’t.”
“Maybe he doesn’t,” Laurie conceded with a tilt of her head, “but he hasn’t played you, and he’s earned your honesty. You both deserve that much.”
“All right.” She flattened a hand against her middle, hoping to release the knot in her stomach. “At the very least, I owe him an apology for running out this morning like I did.” She glanced at her watch. “I’m due at Las Ventanas to collect final signatures on the sale agreements. Afterward, I’ll ask for five minutes to apologize and then I’ll just”—she made a sweeping gesture with her hands—“lay my heart at his feet.”
“Atta girl. And remember, you’re the prize.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Rafe held the door to the meeting room open for Arden and their father. From the corner of his eye he saw another figure come around the corridor and step into the hall. Chelsea. He turned to his father. “Call Vanessa on the Polycom. She’ll put us into the conference with the rest of the board.”
“May I prepare a cup of coffee for you as well?”
Luc’s dry remark barely registered. “Thanks,” he said, and started down the hall, his attention on Chelsea. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, but you know my vote. You have my proxy if you need to make the motion without me.”
Her steps slowed as he closed the distance between them. He read apprehension in her big brown eyes.
“Miss Wayne, a moment of your time before the meeting?”
She fiddled with the legal-sized manila envelope clasped in her hands. “Yes. Certainly, Mr. St. Sebastian.” She looked right, then left, then back at him. “Where did you have in mind?”
A door swung open to his left, and a maid stepped into the corridor holding an armful of table linens.
“Here.” He caught the door before it closed, and held it open for her. “Step into my office.”
She hesitated, and gave him an odd look. Did she want him to go in first? He walked in, and found himself in the supply closet where they’d first met. Fine by him. He considered their first meeting a screaming success, aside from the part when she’d called him Paul.
“Chelsea!”
Speak of the devil. Barrington’s voice sailed down the hall. She turned, paled, and dodged his attempt at a hug, but the evasive maneuver didn’t send any hints to the man. “You came back. I knew you would. We need to talk.” He took her arm, stepped into the closet, and pulled her in as well.
“Work brought me back to Las Ventanas, Paul. I’m not here for you.”
“But—” Barrington spotted him. “What are you doing here?”
Rafe drew in a breath to tell Barrington to get the hell out, but before he could speak Arden appeared at the door. She stuck out her hand. “You must be Chelsea. I’m Rafe’s sister, Arden. I’ve been dying to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you.” Chelsea shook her hand, as if closet introductions occurred every day.
“Chelsea—” Barrington attempted to interrupt, but another voice broke in.
“What is going on?”
Arden grinned. “Hi Dad.”
Luc took the weight of the door from Arden and peered into the closet. “My memo did not arrive.”
“What memo?” Rafe asked.
“The one announcing you’d relocated our meeting to a closet.”
A beat of silence followed, and then people started speaking at once.
“Please give me another chance. I’m miserable with Cindy—”
“—Dad, this is Chelsea.”
“Ah, our deal liaison. Finally we meet—”
And there it went, the end of his patience. “Enough!” Rafe barked, loud enough to silence everyone. He pressed his thumb to the space between his eyes, where a headache drummed. “Barrington, you’re fired.”
“What? You can’t be serious.”
“Do I look like I’m joking?” He spared the man a glower, and then turned to Chelsea. “We’d like to offer you the job of general manager of Las Ventanas.”
“Her answer is no—”
“Shut up, Paul.” He and Chelsea said the words at the same time. Barrington frowned and snapped his mouth closed.
“We’ll double your current salary,” Luc tossed in.
“It’s a very attractive offer, but—”
“Before you answer, you should know there’s one string attached, and it’s non-negotiable.”
“Merde,” his father cursed and shook his head. “This is no strategy.”
He didn’t give a fuck. “The string is me. I won’t keep this thing between us in the closet anymore. I want—”
“Not what you want,” Arden whispered. “How you feel.”
“I feel like I want everybody out of here. You”—he pointed at Barrington—“empty your office. Now.”
Barrington sputtered for a moment, then turned and stormed out of the closet.
“Arden, Dad, please go get the board call started.”
Arden stood her ground. “The call won’t take long. There are only two agenda items.”
“Two? I count one—authorize the Tradewinds deal.”
“Two,” his father confirmed. “Approve the purchase and appoint my successor as chairman. You’re recused from the second vote, as you’re the nominee.”
“Our agreement was three acquisitions, closed and integrated.”
Luc’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “Are you trying to talk me out of my decision? What is the problem? Are you not ready?”
Hell, no. “I’m ready.”
“Yes. I believe you are, which is why I scheduled the vote for today.”
What timing. His father was handing him the goal he’d been jumping through hoops for, but he could barely focus on the triumph. “I’m honored, Dad. Let me know how the vote turns out. Now, if you don’t mind…” He ushered Luc and Arden out of the closet. “I have other business to resolve.”
“Clearly, yes. I advise you to—”
“Private business,” he said firmly, and slammed the door in his father’s face.
“Rafe, you need to join your call,” Chelsea said softly from behind him. “You’re in the middle of important matters. We can talk later.”
“No.” He took her arms and pulled her close, until he could feel her breath against his lips. “You are my most urgent priority. We talk now. The rest is going to barrel on without me anyway.”
“But…it’s everything you worked for. Everything you want.”
“Not everything. It just so happens the thing I want most is in this closet.”
She froze. “You want a stack of folding tables?”
“You, Chelsea. I want you. I want us. I want commitments, and promises that end with words like forever.”
“You don’t believe in forever.”
“I didn’t.” He caught her face in his hands. “But I do now. I believe in forever with you. Because I love you, and that’s never going to change. I know you have your rule against sleeping with your boss, but I have a solution—”
“You’d give up the chairmanship for me?”