Fifty-Two
I nod along to something my coworker says, adding a quick “That makes sense”
before glancing back at the reports scattered in front of me. The conference room feels stifling, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. I’ve answered questions, nodded at the right moments, and tossed in a suggestion or two, but my mind is everywhere but here.
I can’t stop thinking about him.
A flicker of excitement and dread wars in my stomach, leaving me uneasy.
Are we better off leaving things as they ended?
We had an agreement—one week, no attachments. Then we destroyed our own rules. Nathan left, and I let him. Now he’s back in the city, and I have no idea if I should reach out or if he’s already moved on.
“Okay, that about wraps things up,”
says one of the senior partners, yanking me back to reality. “Sienna, thanks for your insights. As always, keep us updated.”
“Of course,”
I reply, managing a professional smile.
The second the meeting ends, I escape the room with a quiet exhale and head to my office.
The instant I open the door, I’m greeted by the sight of Harper lounging in one of the guest chairs. She’s armed with an overpriced salad in one hand and a coffee in the other. She brandishes the coffee like a peace offering.
“I come bearing caffeine,”
she announces, wiggling the cup. “How’d your meeting go?”
“Long,”
I say, setting my notes down. I take the coffee from her, grateful for the jolt of energy. “Thanks.”
She tilts her head, eyes sharp. “You spent the entire time thinking about him, didn’t you?”
I stiffen at her bluntness. “Harper, believe it or not, I have other things on my mind besides Nathan Calloway.”
I try for a casual shrug, feigning indifference.
She snorts. “Yeah? Name three.”
Unfortunately, I don’t have a response.
Without a word, she pulls out her phone, swipes a few times, and shoves the screen in my face.
“Read this,”
she demands.
I frown, leaning back slightly. “Jesus, Harper. Personal space.”
“Just read it.”
With a sigh, I take the phone from her, my gaze scanning the bold black headline.
BLACKWOOD & CALLOWAY HOLDINGS MOVES HEADQUARTERS TO NEW YORK.
Blackwood & Calloway Holdings has announced that its headquarters will be permanently moving to New York.
The business mogul already has offices in New York, Chicago, and California, but moving the headquarters will allow New York to oversee global strategy, international investments, and high-profile acquisitions, while Chicago will remain the company’s financial hub, and California will remain the headquarters for tech innovations and expansion.
I read faster.
Then I see it.
Nathan Calloway himself will oversee the New York office, while his business partner, Julian Blackwood, will continue to run operations in California.
The words blur as my fingers tighten around Harper’s phone. “When was this announced?”
“Yesterday,”
she says. “Figured you already knew.”
I shake my head, speechless.
He never told me.
Not a call. Not a text.
Nothing.
The man who kissed me like he’d rather die than let me go has been in the city this whole time.
And I didn’t even know.
I force my fingers to unclench, handing Harper’s phone back to her.
“It doesn’t change anything,”
I say, my voice surprisingly steady.
She snorts. “Right, because the fact that the man you’ve been moping over since you came home is living in the same city now is totally irrelevant.”
“He always lived here,”
I remind her. “He’s just never here here. And I’m not moping.”
“You’re moping.”
“I’ve been busy,”
I argue, taking another drink of my coffee.
“You’ve been avoiding thinking about him.”
I take a long sip, ignoring her.
She watches me closely, like she’s waiting for me to crack. To admit that this news just shifted everything inside me.
But I won’t because it doesn’t matter.
Nathan made his choice.
He walked away.
I was the one who let him.
I shoot Harper a glare as she arches a brow. Eventually, she just shakes her head and digs into her salad, scrolling through her phone.
A familiar jingle fills the room: the opening theme to Skeptically In Love. We always listen together.
Harper plops her feet on my desk while the podcast host’s sassy voice spills from the speaker.
“Happy Friday, my beautiful skeptics!”
Harper hums along with the jingle.
The conversation in the background is comforting: Jo Quinn, the host, is going on about dating misadventures, reading listeners’ letters.
It’s normal.
Safe.
For a moment, it almost drowns out the tension coiling in my gut.
“All right, listen up, Skeptics, because we’ve got a listener letter, and this next one is a little different.
For starters, it’s from a man, which almost never happens here.
Let’s just say, if you’re single, you’ll want to find someone who talks about you like this.
And if you already have someone, make them listen and maybe take notes.”
I half-listen, finishing my coffee.
Harper sighs about a coworker who typed an email in Comic Sans.
I roll my eyes, about to respond when I hear something that cracks my chest wide open.
“Dear Jo, I don’t know why I’m writing this.
I don’t listen to podcasts.
I don’t even listen to the radio.
But she listens to yours, and I needed a way to talk to her.
So, here I am. I met a girl on a plane. She was insane. Beautiful. Utterly impossible. She shoved a napkin contract in my face, and for some reason, I signed it.”
Everything in me goes still while my blood roars in my ears.
Harper jerks upright, eyes snapping to me. “Sienna—”
I can’t speak. I can barely breathe.
“I thought it was just a deal. One week. No emotions. No complications. But it wasn’t, because in seven days, she made me laugh more than I have in years. She took up every inch of space in my life and made me realize it had been empty before her.”
A lump forms in my throat.
“I left. I had to. But I haven’t been able to think about anything else since. She got under my skin, and I let her. I wanted her to.”
My hands tremble. Harper grips my arm, grounding me.
“I don’t know what she’ll say. Maybe she’s moved on, and I’m the idiot who let the best damn thing that ever happened to me slip through my fingers. But I know this—I was wrong. About everything.”
A tear slips down my cheek.
“I broke every rule in that stupid contract, and I’d do it all over again.”
My breath hitches.
“I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t even expect her to listen. Which is why I reached out to her best friend, and if she turns around right now, she’ll see that I’m standing at her office door.”
Shock slams through me.
Harper just shrugs. “Surprise.”
My heart pounds so violently it hurts. My head snaps toward the door.
And there he is.
Nathan Calloway.
Standing in the doorway.
My finance guy.