Chapter 12 The Lie #2
“Different kind of rush.” He twirls his fork through the risotto.
“ELK is about building things that matter. Sustainable tech, clean energy. I wanted to prove you could be successful without destroying the world to get there.” He pauses, something darker crossing his face.
“It hasn't been easy. Someone’s trying to bury us. Blocking contracts, pressuring investors, squeezing our supply chain. The Silverpoint bid could have put us back on solid ground, but he got the council to delay it.”
“That sounds personal.”
“It is.” He doesn't elaborate, but the tension in his jaw says enough.
“Yet you keep fighting.”
“I have to. It's not just about me.” He sets down his fork.
“We have two hundred people at ELK. Engineers, analysts, admin staff.
People with mortgages and kids in school.
If we go under, they lose everything. I'm not going to let that happen because some...” He catches himself, jaw tightening.
“Because someone with more power than ethics decided I don't deserve to exist in his market.”
The flash of anger is brief, but I catch it. There's history there, something deeper than business rivalry. I file it away for later.
He looks at me, those blue eyes intent. “Enough about me. Why marketing if you love art?”
I laugh, though the sound is hollow. “Stability. My parents always said art was a beautiful hobby but a terrible career. Marketing felt like a compromise. I could be creative without the fear of starving.”
“Do you regret it?”
“Sometimes.” I trace the rim of my wine glass. “At that painting class, I remembered how much I missed it. The feeling of making something just because it wanted to exist.”
“Celeste offered you those advanced classes.”
“You remember that?”
“I remember everything about that evening.”
The intensity in his voice makes my stomach flip. He reaches across the table and covers my hand with his. The touch is warm, grounding. I don't want to pull away.
His thumb traces a slow circle on my knuckles, and the heat from that tiny point of contact spreads through my body.
“Kai.” I say it carefully. “I need you to understand something. I'm not going to jump into anything. I barely know you, and I'm not in a position to trust easily anymore.”
“I understand.” He doesn't move his hand.
“Do you? I’m not playing games. I genuinely don't know what I want from you yet. I need time to figure that out.”
“Emma.” He turns my hand over, fingers intertwining with mine.
“I'm not asking you to jump into anything. I just want the chance to know you. To let you know me.” His voice drops.
“But I'm not going to pretend I don't want more.
I want to kiss you. I've wanted to kiss you since that night at the museum. I hope you'll give me that chance.”
My breath catches. “And if I don't?”
“Then I'll survive. But I'm not going to stop trying.”
I pull my hand back, and he lets me go without resistance.
“Friends matter to me, Kai,” I say. “Sometimes more than partners. When my last relationship fell apart, I didn't just lose a boyfriend. I lost the person I thought was my best friend. It nearly broke me.”
He's quiet for a moment. “What do you want, Emma? Not what you’re afraid of. What do you actually want?”
I consider the question. “I want to find someone who can be both. A best friend who can also hold my heart. I don't know if that's possible, but I'm not willing to settle for less anymore.”
He nods slowly. “That's fair.”
“You're not angry?”
“Why would I be?” He tilts his head, studying me. “You know what you want. You're not afraid to say it. That's not a problem, Emma. That's the whole point.”
My fingers relax around the stem of my wine glass. I hadn't realized how much I was bracing for pressure, for the way James would have made my boundaries about his ego. Kai listened.
Marco appears with dessert, a delicate panna cotta with berry compote.
The tension breaks. We talk about lighter things.
Zoe's obsession with true crime podcasts.
Kai's ongoing war with Logan over who's the better rider.
The time Ethan accidentally set fire to a hotel room in Monaco. My secret addiction to pop music.
By the time we leave, the sun is setting, the sky a deep bruised orange. Kai helps me onto the bike, and this time I don't hesitate to wrap my arms around him.
The ride back is quieter, the roads emptier. I press my cheek against his back and watch the colors bleed into purple above the black line of the ocean.
He pulls up in front of my building, and he walks me to the door.
“Thank you,” I say. “For today. For all of it.”
“Thank you for giving me a chance.” He stands close, respecting the boundary but making his presence felt. “Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Yes.” The word is out before I can second-guess it. “I'd like that.”
He smiles, and it transforms his face. Softer. I wish I had the courage to reach out and touch him.
“Goodnight, Emma.”
“Goodnight, Kai.”
I walk inside, feeling his eyes on me until the door clicks shut. I climb the three flights to my apartment and lean against the door in the darkness. My phone buzzes.
I had a really good time today.
I smile at the screen.
Me too. Drive safe.
Always. Talk tomorrow.
I set the phone down and press my palm to my chest, feeling the frantic rhythm.
I told him this wasn't a date.
I'm a terrible liar.