“I wanted to see how you’re holding up,” I say, forcing my tone level. “You took a nasty tumble at the company event, ended up in the hospital. I care about my crew, contrary to popular belief.”
She nods, though I can sense her skepticism. Her beautiful eyes stare into mine, full of queries she can’t quite piece together. “I heard you were present at the Plaza when I… took a plunge?”
I stiffen, my pulse pounding. Just the mention of that night sets me on edge.
Jesus Christ, what do I say here? I need to approach this delicately, ease my way back into her life. This is not the time to stir up old wounds, not when she’s still mentally fragile.
I force my features into a mask of composure. “That’s right. I was there.”
Her brows bunch together, carving little lines into her forehead. “Can you tell me what happened? I’m trying to piece it all together.”
I search for the right words, for a version of the story that won’t leave her completely dumbfounded and unhinged. “We were having a conversation, and then you turned to leave. Unfortunately, those high heels betrayed you, and you took a tumble on the stairs.”
I watch her face for any spark of remembrance of our heated exchange but it’s blank.
“Typical me. A disaster in heels. I should come with a health and safety warning, like Dwayne suggested.” Her self-deprecating chuckle only ratchets up my guilt.
“No need for embarrassment,” I counter, a little too swiftly. “You gave us a hell of a scare though. You were unconscious in the ambulance.”
I fight to keep my voice level. “It was hours before you woke up at the hospital.”
She gapes at me. “You stayed with me? At the hospital?”
Stayed with her? I practically haunted those hospital hallways, waiting anxiously for any sign that she’d wake up. “Yes, I did.”
She recoils, a soft “oh” slipping past her lips. “That’s really decent of you.”
If only she knew the half of it, the full story of that night. She wouldn’t be singing my praises, that’s for sure.
I give a dry, humorless laugh. “Contrary to the rumors, Lucy, I’m not quite the monster they make me out to be. Did you honestly think I’d just leave you concussed at the bottom of the stairs?”
“Yeah, but I know some managers who would have passed that on to HR,” she quips, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m sorry if I ruined your night.”
“I do a perfectly fine job of ruining things on my own,” I say tightly. My night, and everything that matters.
Her eyes soften, curiosity replacing the confusion. “What were we talking about… before I took a nosedive?”
My pulse spikes.
“Nothing important.” I’ve got a poker face that could bluff the devil himself; it’s one of the reasons I’m a fantastic gambler. But using it on her leaves a bad taste. “And for the record, if you’ve been hearing the ludicrous office chatter, I didn’t give you a shove.”
She chuckles lightly. “I wouldn’t be in this room if I believed a word of that.”
“Good to know you don’t believe everything you hear about me.”
“It’s all good, of course.”
“Of course,” I echo, my voice dripping with sarcasm. I lock eyes with her. “So, tell me, Lucy, what do you believe about me?”
Her reaction is priceless. A visible gulp, her eyes wide as saucers. “About you?”
“That’s right.”
“Like, what do I know about you?” She takes a moment, letting out a slow breath. “Well, you’re the co-founder of our company, obviously. And you’re the sponsor for Project Tangra.”
The basics. The public knowledge.
“Anything more?” I prod, a hint of a smile playing at the corner of my mouth.
“And you started the hotel group years ago after meeting Killian Quinn. You guys started your first hotel at the time in Queens…” She pauses, looking at me as if trying to gauge if she’s passed some sort of test. “You’re a, ah, very successful businessman and… eh, a great role model. I’m not sure this is what you’re after, Mr. Wolfe?”
“I’m not asking for my biography. I want to know what you-Lucy-personally know about me.”
She squirms in her seat, swallowing audibly. “I know we’ve had a few, eh, interactions before, but I hope we can start on a clean slate. I’ll work on my professional filter.”
A clean slate? She might as well have slapped me. A clean slate means she doesn’t remember a goddamn thing.
A flush of color tinges her cheeks as she blurts, “I’m sorry for speaking out of turn that day in the meeting a few months back.”
A surge of hope flares up inside me. “You remember?”
“Yes?” she squeaks out.
I can hardly breathe. “Are you being straight with me right now? You actually recall what happened?”
“No?” Her voice rises even higher. Her eyebrows knit together, eyes darting around as if looking for an escape. “What answer would make you less mad?”
I let out a groan, pinching the bridge of my nose. “The truth.”
“Matty filled me in.”
Fuck’s sake.
But I’m not letting her off the hook. “What about our last encounter? What do you remember about that?”
Her eyes widen, searching for an acceptable response.
“Relax. I’m not setting a trap. Give it to me straight.”
“It was the day you came to talk about Project Tangra. You weren’t exactly my biggest fan that day.”
My lips curve into a smirk as I lean closer to her. “When I caught you with the caricature.”
She groans, blushing furiously. “God, this is so weird. I don’t know if I said this already, but I’m really sorry about that. Matty mentioned that there were no consequences, so thank you for being lenient.”
I chuckle lightly, but I’m too frustrated for it to have any real humor. “I assure you a silly doodle wouldn’t be enough to scare me away, Lucy.”
“You seemed pretty irate at the time.”
“I was.” I smirk. “Your department frustrated me.”
“And it doesn’t anymore?”
“Oh, it still does.”
She grimaces and nods. “Well, I apologize for anything out of line I’ve done this past year.”
“Forget anything you’ve heard. Your performance on the project has been nothing short of outstanding.”
She exhales a noticeable sigh of relief. “That’s so good to know.”
“Since then, we’ve become more acquainted. You’re welcome to call me JP, as you used to.”
A line appears between her eyebrows, one I’ve traced innumerable times. “Oh… kay. Um, JP.”
Something glimmers in her eyes as my name slips from her lips. A spark that could ignite memories if properly stoked.
Come on, Lucy.
I watch the gears turning in her mind. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, her movements restless and filled with tension.
A memory. There’s one lurking around there.
I know it’s there.
Come on, throw me a bone here.
Remember, sweetheart, you need to remember.
She absently smooths her blouse. “Are you now based in New York? The guys mentioned you’ve been around a lot lately.”