Corinne’s smile disappeared entirely. “I guess that must be what you think about me.”
More words wanted to shoot from his mouth like bullets, finding the best places to hurt her. Over the years he’d often imagined it, some grand speech that would put her in her place and leave her reeling, maybe even begging him to forgive her. Now faced with the chance, all Reese could think about was how he needed to tell her the truth. Things had ended between them because of broken trust that had never been repaired. It had changed and ruined everything between them, and it had changed and sort of ruined him too.
“I wanted to see you again,” he said finally.
“Coffee, hon?” The waitress caught a glance of Corinne’s face and frowned. She looked at Reese. “Oh. Sorry. I can come back?”
Corinne shook her head. “Coffee’s good, along with a cup of ice, please. And I’ll have some of that Stein and Sons full cream Eddie keeps. Thanks.”
When the waitress left, Corinne looked at him. “You wanted to see me again.”
He nodded.
Then, shit, she was going to cry. Tears glittered. Her lips quivered. How could he have ever thought that was what he wanted, to hurt her?
He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss away the tears, but didn’t move so much as an inch. Too much time had passed. He didn’t know her anymore.
“You could’ve just called me or something,” she said when she won the struggle to get herself under control. “Found me on Connex, for God’s sake.”
Connex had paid for his house in County Galway, Ireland, but he wasn’t going to tell her that. “I don’t have a Connex account.”
The waitress brought the drinks and the cream. Corinne took her coffee the way she always had. He remembered. Three sugars. Enough cream to turn it white, but she would refill her cup several times without adding more. She added the coffee to the cup of ice and stirred.
“It’s a terrible offer, and you know it,” she told him after she’d sipped.
He wasn’t going to admit that. “It’s a fair offer, considering the losses the company has taken over the past few years and the changes in the marketplace.”
“You really want to run a small town specialty dairy? This isn’t some tech company that you can oversee from afar,” Corinne said, then raised an eyebrow at his look. “Yeah, I did my own research on Ebersole Enterprises. You’re a hands-off kind of corporate mogul, aren’t you? You like to buy up businesses, tear them apart, and sell off the pieces.”
“Not always,” he replied.
Her chin lifted. “You do it often enough.”
They stared at each other over the table, but Reese refused to allow himself to get lost in her gaze. Fathomless, blue, he’d more than once dived into those eyes and let himself drown.
“From everything I was able to find out about Stein and Sons, you’re looking at the total dissolution of the business before the end of the year, unless things change,” he said.
“Which is why you think you can sneak in with that horrible offer, right? I read the terms. You’re not obligated to keep any of the existing board, staff, or employees. So what does that mean? You’re going to come in and fire us all?”
He’d done it in the past, when it made sense for the business, but he’d only put those terms in there this time to make it less likely the board would approve the sale. “I’d do what was best for the acquisition.”
“You’d do what was best for yourself,” she said in a low voice. “Whatever you needed to do for you.”
He scowled. “You’re not being fair.”
“Something tells me this isn’t about being fair.”
“Corinne…”
“I cannot in good conscience suggest to my board that they take your offer, Reese. But they’re desperate. So they’ll probably take it anyway. You’re going to come in and rip it to shreds, put them out of business. Put people out of their jobs, and what do you expect them to do? There aren’t a lot of positions for goat cheese artisans around. And what about me? I’ve been with Stein and Sons for my entire career. Did you think about that? How I might need my job to support myself? My kids?” She took a slow, shuddery breath. “I have two children. They’re my life.”
“You can find another job. You don’t make goat cheese.”
“Sure, because finding a new position that pays me what I’m paid, with my benefits, my flexible hours, yes, that’s so easy at my age. Starting over.” Her lip curled slightly. “Says the man with the yacht.”
“I don’t have a yacht,” Reese told her quietly.
“No, because you get seasick,” she shot back at him.
It was true. She remembered. The words hung between them, somehow accusatory.
He wanted to kiss her.
He wanted to hate her.
He wanted to save her.
“I’ll see you at the meeting on Monday,” he told her, and left her sitting alone in the diner booth.
Chapter Nine
Before