Page 128 of Angel Eyes

“Juliet, it’s Tom.”

I halted, a trickle of unease settling in my stomach. “Oh, hi, Tom. How’s it—”

“Hey, listen,” he cut across me, the sound of his keyboard filling the background. “I know you’ve got a few days left in Berlin, but I want to loop you in on a new deal I’ve got lined up. One of our private equity clients is looking to acquire a major tech company out in Silicon Valley, and I want you to be the lead associate on the transaction.” Another phone rang somewhere, and he paused to pick it up, rattling off a hurried Yes, okay, that’s fine before hanging up again.

“As I was saying,” he continued, “I’d love to get you on this matter. Now, I won’t hide the ball—the timing on this is gonna be a shitstorm. You know how these PE guys like to have their deals tied up in a neat little bow by Christmas, so it’ll be all hands on deck as soon as the target company launches their virtual data room. Can I loop you in on this email thread with the investment banker?”

I drew in a breath, feeling suddenly winded. “Well, Tom, I’m not sure if—”

“Look, this is the big leagues, kid. I’m talking about a two-billion-dollar acquisition. You nail this, and you’ll be sitting pretty when it comes time for you to be considered for partnership. Not to mention it will guarantee you a sizable year-end bonus.”

I plucked at my lip, leaning my hip against the kitchen counter.

Blunt manner aside, I knew Tom was telling the truth. These were the kinds of deals associates were desperate for, the ones that proved to the firm’s leadership you could cut it. The old me would have given Tom a yes on the spot, then cleared my calendar for the foreseeable future. I would have reminded myself nothing was more important than the job and my friends and family would understand when I canceled plans with them for the third time in a row. I would’ve made sure my desk drawers were stocked with energy supplements and double-checked that my office closet had a change of clothes. But more than any of that, the old me wouldn’t have been standing in a Paris apartment, wondering at what point I’d handed over my one precious life in exchange for a bonus check and a shiny new deal toy.

“Can I have a few days to think about it?”

A long pause.

“All right, but I need your answer by end of day tomorrow. This isn’t the kind of deal you want to pass up on, Juliet. You’ve worked hard since joining the firm, and an opportunity like this could distinguish your career.”

“Yeah, I got it.” I cleared my throat. “You’ll have my answer tomorrow.”

I disconnected the call, staring down at the dark screen. I hadn’t even touched down in New York yet, and already I could feel the walls of the firm closing in on me.

Of course, I would have to say yes. No doubt Tom had only agreed to give me an extra day just to humor me, but I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised to find he had already added me to the client-matter file.

I shoved aside an empty box I’d set out to pack the kitchen supplies in and padded toward the living room in search of my laptop. I’m just going to check. If he had added me to the matter without my consent, what then? It wasn’t like I was going to turn the deal down, anyway.

I had just powered on my laptop when there was a knock on the door, and I left my computer on the coffee table, heading for the entryway. Swinging the door open, my eyes fell wide when they collided with the figure standing on the other side. He stared back at me, running a hand down the front of his starched white button-down before tucking it into the pocket of his jeans, his throat bobbing beneath a clean-shaven jaw.

Kyle.

“Hey, Jules.” His eyes ticked between each of mine, before darting over my shoulder. “Did I catch you at a bad time?”

I shook my head. “No, I—I just wasn’t expecting you.” I glanced behind me into the apartment before returning my attention to him. “Um, do you want to come in?”

“Yeah,” he said with a relieved sigh. “That would be great.”

I stepped aside to let him pass, moving toward the kitchen as soon as the door closed.

“Tea?” I offered, already moving to put the kettle on without waiting for a reply. I was keenly aware of his eyes on me as he lowered himself onto a bar stool while I busied myself with retrieving a couple of mugs from the cabinet.

After a minute that felt like an eternity, he said, “I know this must be a shock, me showing up here out of the blue.” I hummed, keeping my eyes firmly on the tea preparations. “But after I found out you were coming home early, I thought I might fly over and help you pack up. Maybe talk things over.”

My gaze flew to his, and he gave me a sheepish grin. “Our calendars are still synced, so I got the notification when you made the flight change.” He watched me for a beat longer than was comfortable, possibly waiting for an explanation. When none came, he continued, “Anyway, I was hoping to talk to you in person, and I didn’t want to leave it until you got back to New York.” His eyes dropped to the tea I placed in front of him. “I thought I might meet you halfway instead.”

I swallowed thickly, unsure of how to respond to that.

He fiddled with the mug in his hands. Then, as if coming to a decision, he rose from his chair and rounded the counter with a look of determination.

“Listen, I’ve had a lot of time to think in your absence, and I’ve concluded that you were right. About everything.” His chest expanded on an inhale as his eyes wandered around the kitchen. When they returned to mine, they were too soft, too familiar.

“I’ll admit, my pride was wounded when you ended things, and for a while, I told myself it didn’t matter. That you didn’t matter. But then, I was sitting alone in our apartment one night, and it finally hit me that you were right—that somewhere along the way, I had become more engrossed with the idea of you rather than the reality of you. I was so caught up in the pursuit of success that I stopped seeing you altogether. And it took me having to face a future without you to realize that.”

“Kyle,” I said, shaking my head, “just because you see that now doesn’t mean things would be any different in the future.”

“It would be different, Jules, because I’m different. I was a pretentious dick, okay? You didn’t deserve the way I treated you, and for that, I apologize.” He absently rearranged the salt and pepper shakers as though measuring his next words.

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