Sixteen
SIXTEEN
LIAM
T en minutes. That’s all it took to derail my day. If I’d taken another street, those ten minutes would have passed like any other—a forgettable blur of routine. But instead, I caught sight of Jared and Sophie at the café down the street. From where I stand, hidden just out of view, I watch them through the window. She’s laughing, leaning in toward him, and the sight twists something deep inside me. There’s a brightness to her smile, so easy and unguarded, and it stirs a mix of jealousy and something sharper, something bitter. It’s unfair, somehow, to see her this comfortable with him and not with me.
I feel like a voyeur, standing here in the shadows like some kind of creep. But no matter how much that ache gnaws at me, I can’t bring myself to look away. Maybe I’m a masochist, drawn to the unease it stirs in me. She’s too beautiful, too captivating, too her to look away.
What the hell am I doing? Wasn’t this exactly what I wanted—for them to get along? To make work easier. It shouldn’t bother me this much, but it does. I tell myself it’s professional curiosity, an interest in gauging her reactions to all the changes at work. But even I know that’s only a fraction of the truth. The rest is messier, more personal—an unwillingness to accept the possibility that she might still care for him enough to give him a second chance. Him , not me.
Sophie throws her head back in laughter, her long blonde hair falling in soft waves around her shoulders. Jared, on the other hand, leans forward with a smile that seems almost too rehearsed, trying too hard, as if he’s desperate to keep her attention. I scoff under my breath, crossing my arms. What’s next? Is he going to pull a rabbit out of a hat? Or maybe recite poetry? Hell, if this is what she finds charming these days, I might start to worry.
I shake my head, exhaling through my nose. Good for them, I tell myself, though the words feel hollow. If they can move past whatever happened between them and figure out how to work together, maybe it’ll smooth out the tension I felt this morning. Sophie looked like she might snap—and that’s saying something for someone who used to be the picture of composure. At least, that’s how she used to be. Now? She’s a storm barely contained, and I can’t decide if I want to calm it or step right into its path.
This is good. It’s what the team needs right now: stability. I should be relieved—this could make everything run smoother. That’s all that matters, right? Work. The project. Not…whatever this ache in my chest is.
However, I hope they haven't been sitting there for the past hour and a half. My lips press into a thin, tight line. We’ve got deadlines to meet and work to get done. I need them to work rather than laughing and chit-chatting about happier days. There’s no time for distractions, not when every minute counts.
I turn away from the window, determined to focus on the immediate tasks at hand. My priority is keeping things professional and ensuring the project stays on track. Whatever happened in the café might actually be progress—a step in the right direction. Yeah, that’s exactly what it is. Now it’s time to turn that into results. No more distractions.
“You’re late.” My voice is clipped, but I don’t look up as Sophie and Jared stroll into my office five minutes late. Sophie is giggling. She’s fucking giggling.
“Oh, sorry, but it’s one p.m. We agreed on two hours,” Sophie says, her lips twitching with barely contained amusement.
I finally lift my eyes, pinning her with a look as I arch a brow. “Actually, it’s five minutes past one. So, explain why I’ve been sitting here waiting for you.” I lean back in my chair, my tone razor-sharp. “Do you usually keep your boss waiting, or is this some special treatment reserved just for me?”
Jared awkwardly scratches the back of his neck. “Sorry, Liam. We... Ehm, we just assumed–”
“Sophie, I asked you a question.” I don’t know why my mood shifted this much, but I can feel the tension radiating in my entire body.
She frowns, her smile fading. “I apologize. We lost track of time.”
Lost track of time. Because Jared is so fantastic now, apparently. Great. Now I’m even more pissed off.
“Let’s get to work,” I snap, shoving the irritation aside—or at least trying to. I point to the two chairs in front of my desk, my tone clipped. “Take a seat.”
They sit down, Sophie’s earlier laughter now replaced with a more serious expression. Jared, too, seems more focused–j ust like he should.
“As Sophie might have told you, the bedrooms, the restaurants, and most of the common areas have already been planned, and the furniture has been ordered by her. However, I need both of your minds on one very important area.” I let the moment stretch, letting their anticipation build.
“The rooftop.”
Sophie's eyes brighten, a flicker of excitement breaking through her serious demeanor as she leans in, trying to catch a glimpse of the blueprints I hold in my hand. I see the spark of enthusiasm in her, and despite my displeasure, it’s impossible not to admire her dedication.
I spread the blueprints out on the desk, the expansive layout of the rooftop unfolding before them. “This space needs to be exceptional,” I continue. “It’s going to be a key selling point for the hotel. We need something that combines elegance, comfort, and a bit of that wow factor.”
Sophie nods eagerly, her expression making it easy to assume she’s already mentally designing. “I’ve got a few ideas,” she says, her voice brimming with enthusiasm. I lift my hand, stopping her mid-thought.
“I want you two to come up with ten different ideas for this area,” I push it a little further, just because I can, ”and I want a full-on presentation from both of you by Monday.”
Her eyes widen slightly, but she quickly masks it with resolve. “But it’s Tuesday today, and we have a week filled with meetings.”
I quirk an eyebrow, leaning back slightly in my chair. “Plenty of time,” I say, my tone laced with challenge. Let’s see just how far they’re willing to go to meet my expectations. If they like to talk and laugh together so much, let’s see how they handle using that energy for work—and only work. I know how competitive Sophie can be—let’s see if Jared can keep up or if he’ll crumble under the pressure.
Jared glances at her, then back at me, a confident smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Challenge accepted.”
Try hard.
“Good,” I say, handing them both a copy of the blueprints. “I expect each idea to be fully fleshed out, considering aesthetics, functionality, and feasibility. This rooftop has to be perfect. Hotel Ayoub D’Or stands for nothing less.”
Sophie takes the blueprints, her fingers brushing briefly against mine. The simple contact stirs something in me, a flicker of the effect she still has, but I quickly shake it off. “We’ll make it happen,” she says.
“I expect nothing less.” I mean it, I expect nothing less than greatness from her. Anything else would be…unacceptable.
With a nod, they leave my office, the door closing softly behind them. I sit back in my chair, a sigh escaping my lips. Did I push too hard? I wonder, staring at the space where they had just been sitting. Maybe hiring Jared was a mistake, but now a gnawing curiosity tugs at me. What exactly went down between them? Why did they break up? I need to find out.
I tap my phone, hesitating for a moment between who to text before sending a text to the only person who might shed some light on the situation. If anyone knows the whole story and might share it with me, it’s Adeline.
Me
Hey Addie, what’s up?
I wait a few minutes, drumming my fingers on the table, my impatience growing with each passing second.
Adeline
Hey, not much. I’m on a break. What about you?
How do I articulate this without sounding like I’m probing? I decided to be as straightforward as possible.
Me
What happened between Jared and Sophie?
I hit send, hoping for a more revealing response.
Adeline
Nice try. That’s not for me to say.
Ask Sophie
Well, she didn’t help.
Maybe Leora can shed some light on this. I decide to give her a call. Sometimes, it’s easier to get the full picture over the phone than through text. I check the time to make sure the time difference is okay. It’s seven-thirty in Nice right now. I dial her number and wait. After a few rings, she picks up. “Liam!” Leora’s cheerful voice is always a welcome sound. “How are you? Any new bruises?”
“Hey, Leora. I’m all good—no new bruises. How are you? And how’s my favorite nephew?” I can’t help but smile at the thought of Antoine. That little charmer has a way of getting under your skin—in the best way. I miss him more than I ever thought I would. He’s completely taken over my life by force, like the tiny tyrant he is.
“I’m good, we’re all good. He misses his uncle Lili, ” she says, her voice filled with warmth. Lili is what he calls me because, apparently, Liam is too hard. I absolutely love it.
“So, I have a bit of an odd question. I just hired an extra interior designer?—”
“Why would you do that? Isn’t Sophie enough?” Her tone shifts from cheerful to sharp, laced with concern. I choose my words carefully as I try to explain.
“She’s incredible and more than capable, but I thought it might ease her workload.”
“Hmm,” she replies, letting it hang in the air.
“You might not like what I’m about to say, but the person I hired is someone she used to date.”
“Spencer? Morgan?” she interjects.
Who the hell are Spencer and Morgan? A sharp twist of something I can only call jealousy tightens in my gut. How many interior designers has Sophie dated? My jaw clenches involuntarily as the thought digs deeper. Would I have ended up in this mess no matter which designer I hired?
“No,” I finally say, my voice cold. “Jared.”
There’s a heavy silence on the line. I can’t even hear her breath.
“You there?”
“Yeah, I’m still here. Ehm, why did you hire Jared?” Her tone is a little bit off, colder than before.
“I told you, I wanted someone to take some pressure off Soph’s back. What do you know about him?”
“I think you should talk to Sophie about this. I don’t feel comfortable discussing her when she isn’t around.”
“Come on, Leora, it’s me. I just want to know who I hired and if I made a mistake.”
“Listen, he’s an incredibly talented designer. From a business perspective, he’s great.” She takes a deep breath, almost labored. “But from a friendship perspective, I can’t stand the guy. He hurt my Sophie, and I will never forgive him for her tears.”
My stomach knots as I absorb her words. He hurt her. My voice is low and strained when I say, “What did he do?”
“Liam, I think this is a conversation between you and Sophie.”
It’s the same answer Adeline gave me, and honestly, I shouldn’t have expected any less. Their friendship is etched in stone.
“I get it. I’ll ask her. Thanks for nothing.”
“No. That’s not how we end our conversations.” Her voice cuts through sharply, dripping with playful authority.
I sigh. “Fine. Love you.”
“There we go. Much better,” she laughs, her tone warm and teasing. “Love you too.” And with that, she hangs up.
I need to find out what he did to her and whether hiring him was a huge mistake. The guy I saw her with almost six years ago must have been Jared. I didn’t see his face clearly, but my gut tells me it was him. The image flashes in my mind—his lips on hers, the way her hands rested on his shoulders. I can’t shake the thought of them together, the easy familiarity they must’ve shared. She was smiling. She was happy—how could he have hurt her? You did too, you idiot.
I shake the thought away, frustration simmering under my skin. This isn’t about me. Has she forgiven him? Did I just put her in a situation where old wounds might reopen? Worse, what if I’ve set the stage for something to rekindle? Fuck.
I need to handle this like an adult. The priority is to check in with Sophie and ensure she’s comfortable with the arrangement. She’s my employee, and her well-being is crucial. Once I’ve spoken to her and addressed any concerns, it’s time to get this project done and leave this mess behind. The faster it’s done, the faster Sophie will get rid of me.