Page 87 of Love You, Mean It

I should listen to Bella. Wait until cooler heads prevailed, come in with a plan instead of a visceral need to relieve the guilt pressure swelling through me.

Instead, I waited about five minutes, then phoned his office.

“Ellie? Hey! How goes it, chica?” I’d only met Theo’s assistant briefly at the engagement party, but she had that bubbly, we’re-all-girlfriends brand of immediate intimacy I associated with cheer captains and game show hosts.

“Hey, Kayleigh. Things are good,” I lied.

“I meant to ask, have you been dress shopping yet? Because my friend just gotthemost gorgeous gown at this adorable shop in Burnton. It like…makes me want to get back with my ex, that’s how stunning it is. I should totally take you there.”

“Uh…yeah, that sounds…so fun! And I really wish we could chat, but I actually need to get ahold of Theo. He let his cell dieagain.”

“Oh my god,soannoying.”

“Right? So…could you put him on?”

“Wish I could. He’s at the old Taylor’s building.”

“What? With who?”

“Sam and the board. For some big meeting? Did he…not tell you?” A hint of incredulity crept into her voice.

“Right…he left so early, I guess I was still half-asleep.” I bit my lip—the meeting wouldn’t have started hours ago. “For the gym, I mean. You know how he is.”

“IwishI could be that committed, but like…naw, girl.” Kayleigh laughed far harder than her joke warranted. “Anyway, did you want to leave a message?”

“That’s okay, I’ll catch him later. Thanks, Kayleigh.”

“Anytime, girl. Let me know about the dresses!”

I hung up, dashed over to the front of the store to hang the“back in fifteen minutes” sign—hopefully no one planned to show up the minute we opened to call me on it—and hurried to my car. Theo wouldn’t be able to totally ignore me with the board there. An ambush was my best chance…and possibly my last one.

I walked into the grand first floor of the building, steeling myself against an immediate encounter with the Taylor clan, but the space was empty. The last of the Bray’s paraphernalia had been cleared away, leaving nothing but a few stacks of building materials dotting the corners of the immense room. Dust motes danced through shafts of sunlight, softened by the soaped windows, giving the space a fairy-tale aspect, some grand ballroom that’s been trapped in time by an evil witch’s curse.

“I’m sorry, I was out of line, but I can explain,” I murmured to myself, the mantra I’d been reciting the entire ride over, apparently hoping repetition would somehow manifest into Theo’s giving me the time of day.

I didn’t have long to work my magic; moments later, the elevator dinged, and Cheryl walked out.

“…half a dozen concepts on this floor alone?” she said over her shoulder.

“That’s right.” My heart skipped a beat as Theo emerged behind his aunt, looking painfully handsome in a heathered gray suit. “It’s one of Mangia’s best ideas: creating individual retail spaces within a larger open market. A central register unifies the concepts without unnecessarily—”

He stopped short as he spotted me, so suddenly that the middle-aged man exiting the elevator behind him bumped into him. Sam only just managed not to create a pile-up. The man was unfamiliar, his close-fitted three-piece suit elegant and perfectly tailored to his tall, slim frame, heavy square glasses automatically conferring intellect upon his friendly, open features.

A Mangia executive, clearly. My stomach churned—I’d known Theo changing course because of our blowout was a possibility, but I’d hoped I’d have alittlemore time to plead my case.

“Whoa. Sorry, Theo.” He frowned slightly before he spottedme.

“That’s alright,” Theo said absently, eyes narrowing as he held my gaze. “Chris, give me a minute.” He’d recovered enough to flash his million-watt smile at the man. “It appears my fiancée needs me rather urgently. Sam, can you and Chris take point while I clear thisup?”

“Of course. Chris, I always find a walk-through helpful—I’m not as spatial as Theo. We could start in the northwest corner? That’s where the café would go, yes?”

“That’s right. A classic European-style bistro would be ideal for…” The man’s voice faded as they crossed the floor. Theo strode over to me, jaw tight. I took a shuddering breath and opened my mouth to deliver my mantra, but Theo got there first.

“What are you doing here?”

“You didn’t respond to my texts. Or my calls…”

“Did you consider that that might be because I didn’t want to speak to you?” His voice was a controlled whisper, but his eyes flashed fire. I swallowed hard.

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