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I sent her one text, just like Sebastian said. Something simple, no pressure.

Brandon: I’m here when you’re ready to talk.

Was it too much?

I stare at my phone like it magically buzzes with a text from her.

Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.

This is driving me insane. I can’t focus on work, can’t sleep, can’t do anything but think about her and how badly I must have hurt her.

Blake told me that Naomi is okay.

We all know what ‘okay’ means, but at least I know Blake’s keeping an eye on her.

The elevator dings, and I step in, clutching the container of Caesar salad like it’s a fucking life preserver. Which, in a way, it is.

Pathetic? Maybe. But I’m out of options.

I made it three times because the first two weren’t perfect enough. Who knew lettuce could be so judgmental?

My phone buzzes. For a split second, my heart does this weird gymnastics routine, thinking it might be her. It’s Elijah. Again. My disappointment is embarrassingly obvious like a dog realizing that the mailman isn’t actually coming to play.

“What?” I snap as I answer.

“Board meeting in an hour,” Elijah says, his voice clipped. “Where are you?”

“Busy.”

“Busy? This meeting is important. We need to discuss strategy beforehand. The board is already?—”

“I really don’t give a fuck what the board thinks.”

“You should.”

“It’ll have to wait. I have something I need to do.” And let’s be honest, with the current situation, I wouldn’t be of any help in that board meeting.

Elijah sighs. “Is that about Naomi?”

The elevator jolts to a stop, and the doors open to said person’s floor.

“I’ll be there. Just give me half an hour.” I end the call before he can respond, shoving the phone back in my pocket.

Elijah’s gonna be pissed. He’s always pissed at me for something. But what else is new?

But none of that matters right now. All that matters is seeing Naomi. Making things right, if she’ll let me. And if she won’t? If she slams the door in my face and tells me to fuck off?

I’ll deal with that when and if it happens. I’m not naive enough to think a salad is going to fix everything. But it’s a start. A small gesture to show her I’m here, that I care. That I’m not going anywhere unless she wants me to.

I promised.

Naomi’s assistant looks up as I approach, her eyes widening. “Mr. Milton. We weren’t expecting you.”

“Is she in?” I nod towards her closed office door.

“Yes, but?—”

I don’t wait for her to finish. Kind of feel sorry for her, but nothing will stand in my way. I push open the door, stepping inside and letting it fall shut behind me.

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