Chapter Seven
Quinn
M y hands tremble as I slam Lyla’s car door shut. The sound echoes through Jonathan’s driveway, matching the thundering pulse in my ears. I press my back against the seat, trying to steady my breathing as Lyla stares at me from the driver’s side. She tucks a strand of lavender hair behind her ear. Those perceptive hazel eyes show her genuine concern for me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, her voice gentle in the silence.
I can’t answer. Not yet. The sight of Nathan’s face—that flash of anger, accusation, and something else I refuse to name—is burned into my retinas. The way he cornered me, how he stood so close, how his voice dropped to that dangerous low register when he told me to leave and never come back.
God, after a year, after showing me such hostility, he still affects me. There must be something wrong with me.
“Quinn?” Lyla says my name, trying to get my attention.
“Just…give me a minute,” I manage, staring out the window as she pulls out of the driveway.
The first stoplight gives me a moment to breathe. I close my eyes, focusing on steadying my inhales and exhales while my knuckles turn white against my thighs.
In, out. In, out .
It doesn’t help.
I thought I’d finally moved past this—past him. I’d built a new life, a new business. And now he’s back, tearing open old wounds with surgical precision. Worse, I’m contractually obligated to work with him.
“I could call them,” Lyla offers quietly. “Tell them you’ve reconsidered.”
The temptation is overwhelming. One call could free me from this emotional nightmare but put me back at square one professionally and financially. I refuse to go back to scraping for clients. Back to worrying if I’ll make rent next month.
No. An opportunity like this doesn’t just happen every day. And I’m not stupid enough to let an ex convince me to throw all that away for his comfort.
“No need. I’m staying on with them. Nathan Knight can kiss my ass. So what should we do first?”
Lyla studies me for a moment, then nods. “Okay. We’ll need supplies.” She makes a sharp turn at the next intersection.
“What kind of supplies?” I ask.
“Emergency girl-power shopping session. It’s the least I can do.”
I realize what she means twenty minutes later when I’m guiding a shopping cart through the ice cream aisle. The fluorescent lights feel harsh, matching the fury radiating through my body. Nathan’s parting words still echo in my head: I hope you know what you’re getting yourself into.
“Okay, what else makes you feel better when you feel like murdering your ex?” Lyla asks, tossing a pint of salted caramel gelato into the cart. “I’m so, so sorry about agreeing to this on your behalf. I panicked.”
One of the many things I love about Lyla? When she’s apologetic, she truly means it. This is one of those times.
“Lyla, you don’t have to buy me all my favorite foods as an apology. To tell you the truth, I’m glad one of us said something.” I start to feel my heartbeat normalize as we continue walking through the grocery store. “I was too busy having an out-of-body experience.”
“Hence another reason why I’m buying all your favorite foods.” Her designer heels click against the fluorescent-lit aisle as she adds my favorite dark chocolate—the expensive kind—to the growing pile of comfort foods. “So we’re not gonna talk about how he practically cornered you in that dining room?”
I sigh. Of course she saw what happened between him and me. Who wouldn’t take a peek from the kitchen to watch that spectacle? “I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. Nathan is still convinced I’m some kind of corporate spy who traded his secrets for a payday and thinks I’ll do it again for funsies.”
“And with Jonathan forcing you two to work together, you can’t walk away.” She finishes my explanation, now fully understanding the situation.
We continue walking through the store until we reach the liquor aisle. I’m quick to select a bottle of wine. “I can’t afford to lose this contract. And waiting for something as good as this one isn’t an option, either.” I pause, tracing the label with my finger. “The Knight name carries weight. I need this to showcase what I can do post-Bethany. One successful wedding for a family as big as the Knights could open doors that would stay closed if I walked away.”
Lyla’s face turns tight with guilt. “I might as well have served you up to the wolf.”
“He may be an angry, unreasonable wolf, but it’s not your fault. You were simply looking out for me. I could use someone in my corner. Someone who can help me focus on what’s more important whenever I’m too busy having an emotional meltdown.”
“Anything for you, girl.” She smiles briefly before her expression turns serious. “Can we circle back to that I don’t regret choosing my family over you comment? Like, what kind of bullshit is that?”
I groan at the flashback of Nathan’s confrontation. How his jaw clenched in the way I once found so attractive. Those golden-brown eyes held mine without wavering. “God, he’s so sure of himself. It makes me want to... Ugh!!”
“I’ll hold, and you punch?” Lyla teases.
I shake my head. I’m too pretty, and too busy, for jail. “But I can’t deny how it must look from his perspective.”
“What do you mean?”
“Think about it—I was the only person outside his core team who knew about that acquisition. And I was the only person not around him when everything went down. To him, of course I look guilty as hell.”
“But you weren’t even there!”
“That’s what I keep telling him, but these days, he’s like talking to a brick wall.” I sigh. “I wish he’d just wake up and realize maybe someone else had to have done it. Someone who had access to that information.”
After we pass by a handful of aisles, we settle where the snacks are. Lyla tosses double-stuffed Oreos into the cart, her expression clouding. “Those damn photos he posted while you were still in New Mexico… I wanted to kill him for that. All those women, the partying, making sure you’d see it all over social media. That was low.”
I swallow hard, the memory still gut-wrenching. “Tell me about it.”
“I get that he chose to publicly humiliate you rather than be an adult and break up with you or at least hear you out.” She pauses, considering something. “But don’t you think that’s strange? If he really believed you betrayed him professionally, why make it personal?”
I blink, never having considered it from that angle. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying, I don’t think it’s hate he feels for you.” Lyla’s expression shifts, becoming more thoughtful. “If he hated you, he would have pressed charges or blackballed you from any good work a long time ago. He also wouldn’t have pinned you against the chair like that. This may be the hopeless romantic in me talking, but I think he’s more afraid about what you might do to him than his brother’s wedding.” Lyla lowers her voice to where only I can hear. “Anger wasn’t the only thing in the room.”
I know where she’s going with this.
“Don’t even go there,” I warn. “He despises me. In fact, half an hour ago, he threatened me.”
My bestie puts her hands up in surrender. “Say what you will. But don’t think I didn’t see you nearly melting underneath him.”
I feel heat flush up to my neck and cheeks. “I didn’t—that wasn’t—I was intimidated. And from him? You’re mistaking hatred for lust.”
“Pitching to a CEO is intimidating. That? What you and Nathan were doing? That was foreplay.” Her knowing smirk is insufferable. “Safe to say that spark you two had a year ago is still there. It’s just covered in a lot of unnecessary anger, hurt feelings, and a bit of pride.”
I could come up with all the excuses I want, but I can’t entirely deny the way my body reacted to his proximity. Despite the eight-year age gap between us, or perhaps because of it, there has always been something magnetic about Nathan’s confidence—the way he carries himself with that assured maturity that men my age rarely possess, if at all.
His scent surrounded me, and for a disorienting moment, I was back in his bed, his hands tangled in my hair, his lips on my skin. I shake the memory away. Those days are gone. Whatever attraction might linger physically means nothing compared to the trust that’s been shattered.
“I need a plan,” I say, abruptly changing the subject. “A professional strategy for dealing with him during this contract.”
“Such as?”
“I need to create a buffer of professionalism so thick, he can’t penetrate it.” I wince at my word choice as Lyla raises an eyebrow. “You know what I mean.”
“I do, but do you think that will work? You two have so much unresolved…everything.”
I absently reorganize the items in our cart, creating order from the chaos of snacks and alcohol. “It has to work. I have to make him eat his words, show him I’m not the person he thinks I am. I asked him why I would sacrifice our relationship for money. You know what he said?” I lower my voice to mock Nathan’s “ I stand by what I know. ”
“Well, he’s standing by stupidity.” Lyla rolls her eyes.
Her response makes me laugh. “The last I saw him before I left…” My voice trails off. “He looked at me like I held his entire world in the balance.” I picture the memory vividly. His fingers absently playing with my hair as we lay in bed. How he’d pulled me into his body and said, One day, I want to build something that lasts forever—both at Knight Industries and with you. I hold back a tear. “He was so excited about NorthStar, how landing that deal would benefit Knight Industries so much. He was planning for us to celebrate once I got back.” The memory still cuts deep.
At this point, I’ll need more than food to survive this job. I’ve never been a big drinker, but something about working with Nathan makes me seriously consider it.
Lyla guides the cart to the checkout line. “Don’t shoot me, but a tiny part of me wonders if working closely with Nathan might get him to rethink what happened.”
I glance at our cart, now overflowing with enough of my favorite foods to feed two of me. “Lyla, I think we went a bit overboard.”
“No, we should have enough…for the first few weeks,” Lyla assures.
I laugh. “Am I going to work or going to war?”
“Those words might as well mean the same thing.”
“I think that depends on the amount of time I have to see his face or hear his voice. All broody and rude.”
She hesitates. “I’ll make another trip if we start running low.”
In a perfect world, I’d love for Nathan and me to have some closure. I know the possibility of us going back to the way things were is slim to none, so I’d settle with making sure this wedding goes off without a hitch and then quietly leaving him for good. Quietly proving to him that I could be around him and not betray him like he’s convinced I could.
However, a small voice in my mind whispers that maybe—just maybe—this forced proximity might be an opportunity. Not to rekindle what we had but to clear my name. But like getting closure, that’s just wishful thinking.
If Nathan thinks his little power play today is going to scare me, he clearly doesn’t remember who he’s dealing with. If I can survive Bethany, I can survive Nathan Knight.
I straighten my shoulders as we load the grocery bags into the trunk of Lyla’s car.
Later that day, I come up with a plan. I’ll approach this like any other PR challenge: assess the situation, identify the objectives, develop a strategy, and execute flawlessly. Usually, that works out for me. The only difference? This time, my own heart could be on the line.