10. Stefan
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Stefan
I couldn’t make sense of it.
She looked at me with hatred in her eyes, as if I’d committed an unforgivable crime. Being in the same room with me seemed to cause her physical pain.
But I didn’t do anything wrong. I loved her. I would have given her everything if she’d let me.
She left without a word. She signed divorce papers and sent them through my mother. She disappeared for four years and never once tried to reach me.
And now she was keeping my daughter from me too.
The property deal was real. The only lie was how it landed on her desk. One midnight call to my father’s people, and the shortlist of the best local firms had exactly one name on it. I’d own that someday. Not yet.
Their acceptance had come by email two days later - Nessa’s message all exclamation points, Layla absent from the thread entirely, which was its own kind of answer.
The meeting started at nine. Nessa was already in the conference room when I arrived, spreading blueprints across the table with professional efficiency.
Layla sat at the far end, her laptop open, her eyes fixed on the screen.
She didn’t look up when I walked in.
“Good morning.” I pulled out a chair and sat down across from her.
“Morning.” Her voice was flat, and her fingers kept moving across the keyboard as if I hadn’t spoken at all.
“I brought the updated floor plans.” I opened my briefcase and pulled out the revised documents, spreading them across the table between us. “The architects incorporated the changes we discussed yesterday.”
“Let me see those.” Nessa reached for the papers and studied them with a practiced eye. “This is much better than the first draft. Moving the restaurant entrance to the south side opens up the whole flow of the ground floor.”
“That was the intention.” I pointed to the relevant section of the blueprint. “Foot traffic will move naturally from the street through the lobby and into the dining area without any awkward bottlenecks.”
“What about the original staircase?” Layla finally looked up from her laptop, her eyes scanning the blueprints with sharp attention. “Is it staying as the central feature or are you planning to relocate it?”
“Absolutely staying.” I leaned forward and pointed to the architectural rendering. “We’re restoring the original mahogany balustrade and adding period-appropriate fixtures to highlight the craftsmanship.”
“The wood will need to be stripped and refinished.” She pulled the blueprint closer, tracing her finger along the staircase outline.
“You’ve already been to the site?” I couldn’t hide my surprise at how quickly she’d moved.
“Yesterday afternoon.” She still wasn’t looking at me, her attention fixed on the documents. “Nessa and I did a walkthrough after you left to get a sense of the actual conditions versus what’s on paper.”
“And what did you think of the space?” I watched her face, looking for any crack in the professional mask she was wearing.
“The bones are good.” She traced a finger along the blueprint, following the structural walls. “But there’s more work needed than your engineers estimated in their initial report. The east wall has settling issues that will require foundation repair, and the basement floods during heavy storms.”
“We can address those in the budget.” I pulled out the financial projections and slid them across the table. “There’s contingency built in for unexpected repairs and structural surprises.”
“How much contingency are we talking about?” Nessa was taking notes, her pen moving quickly across her legal pad.
“Fifteen percent of total construction costs.” I pointed to the relevant line item. “Roughly two point three million dollars set aside specifically for unforeseen issues.”
“That should cover most scenarios.” Layla made a note on her own legal pad without looking up. “Assuming we don’t find anything catastrophic hiding behind the walls or under the floors.”
“Is that likely to happen?”
“In a building this old?” She finally met my eyes, and I felt the impact of her gaze in my chest. “Anything is possible, and we should plan accordingly.”
The meeting continued for another hour. We discussed timelines and material specifications and vendor recommendations.
Nessa kept things moving with smart questions and detailed notes, demonstrating exactly why their firm had the reputation it did.
Layla contributed when necessary, her comments sharp and insightful, her expertise obvious in every observation she made.
I forced myself to focus on the project. On the numbers. On the blueprints spread across the table.
But my eyes kept drifting to the way her blouse clung to the delicate line of her collarbone.
My attention kept snagging on the way her hair fell across her face when she leaned over the documents.
My mind kept wandering to the memory of what she looked like beneath me, gasping my name, her back arching off the bed as I moved inside her.
She was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, and the years had only sharpened her appeal. The softness of her twenties had given way to confidence and definition.
She moved differently now, spoke differently, carried herself with the bearing of someone who’d been through fire and emerged stronger.
My body responded to her presence as if no time had passed at all.
I noticed the way her skirt pulled against her thighs when she shifted in her chair.
My fingers itched to tuck her hair behind her ear when it fell across her face.
My pulse kicked up when she leaned close to examine a sample and I caught her scent.
“I think that covers the major points for today.” Nessa closed her notebook and stood up, gathering her things. “I need to make some calls to vendors before lunch to confirm availability on those custom fixtures. Stefan, do you have any other questions before I go?”
“A few things about the rooftop specifications.” I kept my voice casual, not wanting to seem too eager. “But they can wait if you need to step out.”
“Layla can handle those.” Nessa was already moving toward the door, her bag over her shoulder. “She’s got the design vision locked in better than I do anyway, and I really need to catch these vendors before they close for their lunch break.”
She was out the door before either of us could object, leaving me alone with Layla in the suddenly quiet conference room.
The silence felt different without Nessa’s presence to buffer it. Heavier. More charged.
Layla stood up and walked to the window, putting the length of the room between us. “What questions do you have about the rooftop?”
“None.” I stayed in my chair, watching the tension in her shoulders. “I just wanted Nessa to leave so we could actually talk.”
She turned around slowly, her expression guarded. “Why would you want that?”
“Because I wanted to talk to you without an audience.” I leaned back in my chair, keeping my posture relaxed even though every nerve in my body was firing. “Actually talk, not hide behind blueprints and budget projections.”
“There’s nothing to talk about beyond the project.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “We covered everything relevant in the meeting.”
“We covered the project.” I stood up and took a deliberate step toward her. “We didn’t cover us.”
“There is no us.” Her voice hardened, but I caught the slight waver underneath. “There hasn’t been an us for four years, and there never will be again.”
“And whose fault is that?” I kept my voice even, genuinely curious about her answer.
She opened her mouth to respond, then stopped herself. Her jaw tightened and doubt flickered behind her eyes.
I caught myself staring at her. At the flush creeping up her neck and spreading across her cheeks. At the way her chest rose and fell with each breath she took. At the tiny vein pulsing at her temple, betraying her agitation.
She caught me looking, and her eyes narrowed.
“What?” Her voice came out sharper than before. “Why are you staring at me?”
“I just forgot how beautiful you are.” I held her gaze without flinching or looking away. “Being in meetings with you all morning, trying to focus on floor plans when you’re sitting three feet away from me, it reminded me of what I’ve been missing.”
Her lips parted on a soft intake of breath. Her cheeks flushed a deeper pink, the color spreading down her throat and disappearing beneath the collar of her silk blouse.
For a moment she looked exactly like the woman I married. Soft and vulnerable and uncertain, all her walls temporarily forgotten.
“You can’t say things like that to me.” But her voice had lost its sharp edge, coming out almost breathless.
“Why not?” I took another step toward her, closing the distance between us. “It’s true, and we both know it.”
“Because we’re not...” She trailed off, her eyes dropping to my mouth before snapping back up to meet my gaze. “This is supposed to be a business meeting, Stefan.”
“Nessa left ten minutes ago.” I smiled, and I watched her breath catch in her throat. “It’s just us now, and I don’t think either of us is thinking about business.”
“That doesn’t change anything about our situation.”
“Doesn’t it?” I moved closer still, leaving only a few feet between us. “You’re blushing, Lay. You always blush when you’re flustered, and right now your cheeks are bright pink.”
“I’m not flustered.” But she clearly was, and we both knew it. Her hands gripped her elbows so tightly her knuckles were turning white.
“You’re also a terrible liar.” I let my eyes travel over her face, slow and deliberate, taking in every detail. “That hasn’t changed either, no matter how much time has passed.”
“Stop it.” But there was no real heat behind the words.
“Stop what exactly?” I tilted my head, studying her reaction. “Stop looking at you? I’ve been trying not to look at you for the past two hours, and it’s not working even a little bit.”
“You’re being completely inappropriate right now.”