have to go, Anna.”
She gives me a quick squeeze and regains her composure.
I hate that I have to leave her like this. But I have no solutions for her.
She sniffles and looks past me for the waitress as I put two twenties on the table and lean in to kiss her forehead.
“Take care, Anna,” I tell her as I turn away from her.
“You too,” she whispers.
This fucking meeting is never going to end. And it’s only the first of the three I need to take care of before the day is over. I’d run my hand over my face, but it’s a video conference. So instead I stare straight ahead, listening to the pros and cons of moving the manufacturing of casings for the new prototype to South Korea while leaving the remainder in the US.
I need the numbers and I need the statistics, but what I don’t need is the two heads of the two opposing divisions to get into a fucking argument and take up my time.
I finally speak up, putting an end to this nonsense. “Mr. Crenshaw, I fail to see the point of this debate.”
“It’s about timing, Mr. Stone. This is going to destroy my timeline.”
“The bottom line is what matters,” Mr. Jenkins answers in a stern voice.
There’s a knock at the door, interrupting the conference. I ignore it.
Knock knock, it comes harder this time.
Crenshaw and Jenkins continue to debate on whether or not their shipping methods are reliable and I look up to the door as I say, “Come in.” Linda knows my schedule and she should know better than to interrupt me, especially when the head of my development department is telling me my timeline may be fucked because of this change.
I glance at the door when it opens, and I have to do a double take.
“Dahlia?” I look up past the monitor and ignore the conference. Their voices pour from the speakers, but it’s white noise. Dahlia’s in my doorway, with Linda right behind her.
“Mr. Stone,” Linda says with an uneasiness as she looks between the two of us. “I wasn’t-” she starts to explain herself, but I wave her away.
“Leave us.”
Dahlia looks unsteady. She seems lost with what to do with herself. I wait for her to tell me what’s going on. Or to come over to me, but she just stands in the middle of my office, twisting her hands around the strap of her purse. With doubt in her eyes and uncertainty clear on her face.
My forehead pinches with confusion. What the hell is she doing here? It looks like she’s been crying. The realization snaps something inside of me.
I stand abruptly from my desk, and it’s only then that I hear the voices coming through. It was all white noise before.
“Mr. Stone,” several men call out. Fuck. I look back at the monitor gritting my teeth, but the moment I do, Dahlia turns to leave.
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“Stay.” I give her the command, and she freezes. Her breathing is coming in harsher than before.
I walk past her to the office door, ignoring the questions coming through the speakers, and lock it before moving to the blinds and closing them all. I can feel Dahlia’s eyes on me, but I don’t turn to face her gaze until we have privacy.
“When Mr. Stone...” a voice rings through the speakers and I quickly walk over to the other side of the desk and lean forward, hitting mute and exiting out of the conference without a word. I don’t owe them an explanation, and they still need to have this sorted by tomorrow at the latest. I pay them well, and I expect no less from them.
“Lucian, I-” Dahlia finally says as I walk toward her. I take her small hands in mine and bring her closer to me.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her.
“I shouldn’t have-” she looks down at the grey carpet and shakes her head, the doubt and regret spreading through her.
I hook my finger under her chin and tilt her up so her soft hazel eyes are forced to look back at me. “What’s wrong?”
“I…” She’s so hesitant. Last night was hard on us, and I failed her. Again. This is my fault. “I feel like,” she chokes on her words, looking past me and out of the window. “I need more.”
“I’m sorry about last night,” I apologize to her. Her eyes widen slightly as I lead her to the sofa on the side of the office. “Please forgive me