Twenty-Nine
Nathan
Less than twenty-four hours after being in a diner with Sienna, we’re standing in a ballroom.
My hand settles naturally on the small of her back as we step inside, soft music drifting around us, expensive champagne glinting in crystal glasses.
The usual pretentious bullshit.
Only this time, there’s an undercurrent of tension in me that has nothing to do with the investor we need to impress.
It’s her.
It’s the memory of how she stood in my mother’s filthy kitchen, helping me, seeing too much. Or how she laughed last night like she didn’t have a care in the world.
I glance down, taking in the way her emerald dress hugs her body, the way her hair falls in loose waves over her shoulders, and the way her lips part slightly when she breathes.
I remember the first time I saw her in this dress, how it made me think of all the ways I’d ruin her.
Even now, the memory simmers below the surface.
She’s breathtaking, but I already knew that.
I lean down, keeping my voice low so no one else hears. “Nervous?”
She tilts her head up, her expression unreadable, though I sense the tension in her spine. “I don’t do a lot of fundraisers.”
“You’ll be fine,”
I say. If I learned anything from my mother’s meltdown, it’s that Sienna can handle more than I ever gave her credit for.
“Easy for you to say, finance guy. You belong here.”
I flex my fingers against her waist. “You’re standing next to me. That means you do, too.”
She rolls her eyes, but I catch the way her shoulders relax just a little. Good. We can’t afford to look uncertain in front of Crane. Not tonight.
The moment Julian spots us, I already know I’m in for it. He strides over, hands in his pockets, grinning like he’s just found his next source of entertainment.
His gaze flicks to Sienna before I can open my mouth. She straightens, pressing a hand against my chest. Perfect. Natural, like we practiced.
Julian’s smirk widens. “And you must be the woman I’ve heard so much about.”
Sienna shakes his hand. “Sienna.”
“Sienna,”
Julian repeats, dragging out the syllables like he’s savoring them. Then he shifts his smirk to me, an unspoken this is interesting dancing in his eyes.
I already don’t like where this is going, but I keep my face neutral.
Julian leans in and tells her, “Thanks for doing this.”
Like I need a goddamn favor. It sends a ripple of annoyance through me because I haven’t forgotten how Sienna stepped into my darkest place without flinching.
She laughs. Actual, genuine laughter. I side-eye her. She just shrugs, unfazed.
“I will say,”
Julian muses, “Nathan wasn’t wrong.”
She lifts a brow. “Oh?”
“He told me you were beautiful.”
Her eyes snap to mine, her lips twitching.
Yes, I said it, and I was right. She looks like a problem I’d willingly ruin myself for. Like a woman built for late nights and reckless decisions. She stands under the soft light, the emerald fabric clinging in ways that make me resent every other man in this room for getting to look at her.
She tilts her head, that smug amusement dancing in her eyes. “If you wanted to compliment me, Nathan, you could’ve just done it yourself.”
Oh, she’s in rare form tonight, and I’m glad to see she’s not letting yesterday’s drama weigh her down. Leaning in, I let my lips brush the shell of her ear, my voice low enough that only she can hear. Because sure, I’m a man who can compartmentalize.
“Yes, you’re beautiful,”
I murmur. “That dress is made for you, and I’ve been thinking about fucking you in it from the moment I saw you.”
She stills. Then swallows.
Julian claps me on the shoulder, completely oblivious to Sienna’s breath hitching. “Aww, you’re in a mood. Look at that, Sienna, we’re already bonding.”
She lets out a ragged breath, blinking like she’s trying to collect herself. Then, to my fucking horror, she grins. “I like you, Julian.”
Julian winks. “Of course you do.”
His grin shifts as his business face slides into place. “Richard Crane just arrived with his wife, Eleanor.”
Sienna’s smile tightens a fraction, but she doesn’t waver. She straightens her shoulders, lifting her chin. She’s ready.
I push down the memory of her pushing a trash bag full of empties across my mother’s floor, refusing to leave me alone in that hellscape. She’s more than ready to handle some investor meet-and-greet.
With my hand still on her lower back, I guide her through the ballroom.
“Nathan. Julian.”
Richard Crane extends his hand when we reach him, tone firm but polite. “Glad you could make it.”
His eyes flick to Sienna. Sharp. Assessing.
Julian, smooth as ever, beats me to the introduction. “And this lovely woman,”
he says, gesturing to her with casual ease, “is Sienna Blake.”
Richard’s expression barely shifts, but something flickers behind his gaze.
Eleanor Crane, poised and elegant, offers a warm but knowing smile. “A pleasure to meet all of you,”
she says, turning that polished grin on Sienna.
Sienna shakes Eleanor’s hand with graceful ease. “It’s lovely to meet you both.”
Richard hums, still watching her. “What is it you do, Miss Blake?”
“Marketing,”
she replies easily. “I work on campaigns for corporate brands.”
Richard nods. “Ambitious.”
“I like to think so.”
Eleanor’s lips curve. “I admire a woman who knows her worth.”
She turns to Richard, and just like that, I watch him relax. It’s a subtle sign that we’re off to a good start. This is exactly the game we’re here to play.
∞∞∞
The night moves quickly. Business talk flows with ease. Julian and I circle around Richard’s hesitations like we’ve rehearsed a hundred times.
Sienna sits in the chair beside mine, looking every bit like she belongs here. She listens intently, lips slightly parted in concentration, body angled toward the conversation as though she’s genuinely interested in the intricacies of expansions and profit margins. Part of me almost believes she is.
What really catches me off guard is that I’m not the only one noticing her. Across the table, Eleanor Crane watches Sienna with quiet, careful interest. She’s listening, taking her in. Somehow, that unsettles me because I know a single misstep might break the illusion we’re trying to maintain.
Richard finally leans back, swirling the last of his drink. “Your proposal is solid,”
he says. “But there’s a problem.”
Here it is. The catch.
“Go on,” I say.
“You’re pitching this expansion like it’s bulletproof. And financially? Maybe it is. But the market is shifting, Calloway. You’re focused on logistics and revenue, but what about branding? Strategy?”
I keep my face impassive. This is the game. Julian leans forward, ready to counter.
But, out of nowhere, Sienna speaks: “You need a narrative.”
Her voice cuts through the conversation like a blade. The entire table falls silent, eyes locked on her. She doesn’t even flinch.
“Your expansion is about more than just numbers,”
she continues, voice steady. “You need to give people a reason to care. Your consumers need to see the growth and think, ‘This is a company that understands me, that I can trust.’”
Richard tilts his head, intrigued. “Go on.”
She does. Launching into a strategy so seamless, so effortlessly brilliant, that it takes me a moment to realize I’m barely listening because I’m too busy watching her. The way her lips move, the passion in her eyes, the unwavering confidence.
This is where Sienna comes alive. Where I see the woman who refused to wilt under my mother’s roof, who told me I’m not judging you. She’s not playing a part. She’s just…herself. Owning her space, commanding the room.
“And that’s why,”
she finishes, “people trust Nathan and Julian’s projects when others fail. They don’t just buy buildings. They invest in the people. Look at their work in Brooklyn two years ago.”
She glances at me, eyes sparkling. “They could have torn down entire blocks and forced local businesses out. Instead, they partnered with them, built them up. Now it’s one of the most thriving areas in the city.”
She stops, cheeks flushed, realizing the entire table is staring at her. Richard is listening, genuinely listening. Julian casts a single look before composing himself. Eleanor’s eyes gleam with approval.
I’m caught between wanting to kiss her senseless and the realization that she knows about Brooklyn because she's done her research. She dug into my past. She said she Googled me, and apparently, she did her homework well.
She blinks, eyes wide as if snapping out of a trance. “I am so sorry,”
she whispers, her voice barely audible. She thinks she’s overstepped, tried to overshadow me in front of the potential investor, but she has no idea what she’s just done.
“Christ, where have you come from?”
I murmur, the words slipping out before I can stop them. Sienna’s gaze snaps to mine. Her expression is a mix of confusion and heat.
Richard clears his throat, drawing us back to the moment. “Well,”
he muses, “I wasn’t expecting that.”
Sienna stiffens, panic flickering across her face. My immediate instinct is to reassure her. You did well. You were perfect. But she looks like she wants to vanish.
Not happening.
I squeeze her thigh under the table, letting my touch ground her. “I was,”
I say, turning to the Cranes. “She’s brilliant.”
The tension in Sienna’s shoulders eases, and her gaze flicks to me with a question: Am I? But the answer is obvious. She is. She’s brilliant and maddening and everything in between, and for a few heartbeats, I forget the chaos of yesterday, my mother’s meltdown, my own brother’s sneer. All I see is this woman in an emerald dress, pulling off a miraculous save for the biggest deal of my career.