Once we’ve landed, Leo picks us up and drops Emery off at her place before taking me directly to the office. With all of the flying, I barely have any concept of time, but it’s just past ten in the morning by the time Leo pulls up to Duke Capital. Thank God for the shower on the plane. That and the spring that Emery puts in my step is what is driving me forward.
She fell asleep again after we finished, and I held her until the plane began its descent. She looked so perfect, like she was made to be curled up in my bed, in my arms. And maybe it’s selfish, wanting her to stay with me, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to her. I’ll give her whatever she needs.
It probably is selfish, wanting her to stay with me.
She’s young. She probably wants to date a bunch of douchebags before settling into a more serious relationship. With an older, still technically married douchebag.
What troubles me, though, is that, when we dropped her off, some of her sadness from earlier seemed like it was back. I tell myself it’s just being back home, the glow of the trip wearing off, and nothing else. Maybe it’s knowing that Claire knows. Maybe she feels ashamed or embarrassed. But I’ll hold my end of the bargain. I’ll keep it professional. Anything Emery gets will be hard fought, just like she is. If any of them, including Claire, had seen her in that meeting with Monica, they’d understand. She isn’t using me as a stepping stone. She isn’t getting ahead by being with me.
She’s not like that.
She’s nothing like Blythe.
And besides, she doesn’t need me for anything. She’s a talented young woman. Any company in New York would be lucky to have her.
I arrive at the office in a haze of racing thoughts, and it takes Sandy saying my name a few times to make me realize that I’ve walked through the lobby, taken the elevator to the executive floor, and walked the hall to my office without realizing it. I shake my head and see that she’s smiling at me.
“Welcome back, Mr. Duke,” she beams in greeting. “Everything is on schedule,” she adds. “The conference room is booked for noon so each team can update you on where they’re at with their part of the Pink deal.”
“Excellent,” I say. “Where’s Ramon?”
“In his office,” she says. “I think he’s trying to talk Blythe—erm, Mrs. Lawrence-Duke—into reason. She was ah”—Sandy pauses, attempting to be delicate—“a bit out of sorts at being left out of the loop on the reallocation of charity funds.”
I wince. I don’t want to see that witch, but I also know it’s unavoidable. But the mention of her name has reminded me of something I need to do. I told Emery that I was going to finalize the divorce. And the only way to show her I’m serious, that she’s not being strung along, is to follow through.
So, fuck it. I’ll sign the papers now. Bickering over negotiations be damned. Then, there won’t be anything to hold us back.
“Excuse me, Sandy,” I say. “I forgot to do something.”
She nods, looking slightly confused but understanding. “Of course, Mr. Duke.”
I turn and head back for the elevator, zipping down to Claire’s floor without ever even setting down my briefcase. I find her assistant looking surprised at my unannounced walk in, but I cut her off before she can say anything.
“I believe Claire left some papers for me to sign,” I tell her. “My divorce papers. I need them now.”
She blinks at me, clearly caught off guard and unsure how to respond without Claire here, but she seems to recall she ultimately works for me and snaps to attention. She excuses herself and heads into Claire’s office, and when she returns, she holds out a manila envelope, sealed with my name on it. There’s also a sticky note that reads, “For whenever he’s finally ready.” Something tells me the assistant was supposed to remove that, but I don’t care. I thank the girl and leave, relief practically rolling off of me in waves. I’ve never been so ready to end something in my life.
To begin something else.
Once I’m back up in my office, I make quick work of the papers. A few slices of my pen and the work’s done, signed and ready. Already, it feels like a weight’s fallen off of me. Now I can focus on the future. Or at the very least, today.
Sandy was right about everyone working efficiently to close this deal. When I find Ramon in his office—thankfully alone and without Blythe in sight—he fills me in on everything, bringing me up to speed on what everyone is doing to make this pitch to Pink a reality.
“Impressive idea, Harrison,” he says, and the admiration is genuine. “We’re solving multiple issues at once with this one. How did you come up with this?”
I shrug, trying not to reveal too much and overplay my hand.
“You were right,” I say. “Emery was an asset on the trip. She was able to charm Monica enough to listen, and then the idea came to me. I knew we had to find a way to right the wrongs from the charity, and this is just a start.”
Ramon nods in approval. “Well, we’ll still need to figure out what to do moving forward. You and I both know that there are more issues with Blythe’s department than just this job. Also…something was off with Blythe today, Harrison. I couldn’t put my finger on it. She wasn’t happy about the deal, but she also didn’t fight it. Not like she usually does.”
I sigh. He might as well know. “She was pressuring me on the divorce earlier, and I think she’s probably just smug that she’s about to win.”
Except really, she isn’t. I see that now. I’m the one securing a win by being free of her.
“Really?” Ramon asks, his eyebrows shooting up. “Well, congratulations, man. I know that wasn’t easy.”
“At some point,” I say, “you just have to start living your life again. Staying married to her was only hurting me, and I finally realized that.”
“Gee,” Ramon says, rolling his eyes. “If only someone had told you that.”
I chuckle, glancing back at the pictures Ramon has decorating his office. There are so many of his family, of his kids climbing on his back, of he and his wife at their wedding. The love in their eyes is so potent, I almost have to look away.
And then it hits me.
Love.
“Oh fuck,” I say.
“What?” Ramon asks. “Something wrong with the deal?”
“No,” I say, slowly, as the details come back to me.
Emery in my arms. Emery looking at me from across the room. Her laugh, cutting through the noise of my life.
The divorce papers might have granted me freedom, but they aren’t enough. They won’t erase the tiny apartment that Emery lives in, and they won’t bring our two worlds together. They won’t keep Emery here with me, by my side. And they won’t smother the ache in my heart when I think about her. Not now. Not when I’ve finally pulled my head out of my ass, my reality being crystal clear.
I’m in love with her.