Page 14 of Worth the Wait

There's something mesmerizing about watching Tarryn Wells in her element.

From my position at the back of the conference room, I have a perfect view of her as she walks the Applebaum Holdings team through a particularly complex section of their acquisition agreement. Every gesture is precise, every explanation clear and concise. She's transformed the intimidating legal jargon into something almost elegant—a skill that can't be taught.

"As you can see here," she says, highlighting a clause on the projection screen, "we've restructured the indemnification language to provide you with three layers of protection against unknown liabilities."

One of the Applebaum executives—a silver-haired man with shrewd eyes who's been skeptical throughout the meeting—leans forward with sudden interest.

"What about subsidiaries operating in international markets? The previous language left us exposed in three jurisdictions."

Without missing a beat, Tarryn flips to page thirty-seven of the agreement. "If you'll look at Subsection C, we've specifically addressed cross-border operations with language that mirrorsinternational standards while maintaining the protections of U.S. law."

The executive studies the document, nodding slowly. "I missed that. That's… impressive work, Ms. Wells."

The ghost of a smile touches Tarryn's lips, there and gone so quickly that I doubt anyone else notices. But I do. I always noticed the small things about her—how she squares her shoulders slightly when she's proud but trying not to show it, how her left eyebrow raises a fraction when she's won a point.

This isn't the Tarryn I knew in high school—the creative, passionate girl who studied for exams at the last minute and kept her notes in chaotic, color-coded piles. This woman is methodical, precise, commanding. The scattered brilliance of her youth has been honed into something formidable.

It's intoxicating to watch.

And deeply troubling, because the more I observe her professional expertise, the more I understand why my presence threatens her. She's built herself into this polished, respected attorney through sheer determination and meticulous work. My arrival—with our shared history and Miguel's obvious interest in my negotiation approach—represents a challenge to everything she's established.

But I have no interest in competing with that, with her. I want her to thrive outside of who she used to be. But I also know that eight years ago, she made it clear she wanted to outrun our past… and I’ve just completely undone all of that by showing up here.

The meeting concludes with handshakes and promises of next steps. Tarryn is immediately surrounded by colleagues and clients, fielding questions with practiced ease. She doesn't look in my direction once, though I know she's aware of my presence. The careful way she positions her body, at an angle away from me, speaks volumes.

I slip out of the conference room, needing space to process what I've just witnessed. The Tarryn Wells who exists in this steel and glass tower is a stranger to me in many ways, yet achingly familiar in others. The dichotomy is disorienting.

"Impressive performance, wasn't it?"

I turn to find Zoe—the paralegal from Tarryn's team—leaning against the wall outside the conference room, an amused expression on her face.

"Very," I agree neutrally.

"Tarryn's the best we have for detailed contract work," she says, studying me with barely concealed curiosity. "The partners call her 'The Microscope' because nothing escapes her notice."

"I can see why."

Zoe pushes off the wall, falling into step beside me as I walk toward my office. "You're wondering if she's always been like that."

The observation is uncomfortably perceptive. "What makes you say that?"

"The way you were watching her," Zoe says with a knowing smile. "Like you were trying to reconcile two different people."

I keep my expression carefully neutral. "I'm just getting to know my colleagues."

"Sure you are." Zoe's tone makes it clear she's not buying it. "Well, as Tarryn's friend, let me save you some time. She's brilliant, driven, and absolutely terrible at relationships."

This catches my attention despite my best intentions. "I don't see how that's relevant to our professional relationship."

Zoe laughs, the sound bright and knowing. "Of course not. But just in case you were curious—which you're not, obviously—she dates men she can keep at arm's length. The moment they want more, she's gone."

We reach my office, and I pause in the doorway, curiosity getting the better of me. "Speaking from observation or experience?"

"Both. I've watched her turn down perfectly good men when they get too close." Zoe leans in slightly, lowering her voice. "She even rejected a partner at another large firm who was crazy about her. Career suicide for most associates, but Tarryn somehow made it work in her favor."

The information shouldn't matter to me. Tarryn's personal life is none of my business—hasn't been for eight years. Yet I file away this insight like a piece of valuable evidence.

"Interesting gossip, but I assure you, Ms. Wells' dating habits aren't relevant to our work together," I say, my tone deliberately dismissive.

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