Corinne’s office door was closed.
Reese didn’t knock, but instead went to his own office and closed his. There wasn’t much for him to do here. The staff that had been in place to handle the production had been doing a great job, and the new staff he’d hired to be in charge of distribution to the new markets would be coming on before the end of the month. The two new specialists who’d take over the creation, testing, and implementation of brand-new specialty products were also due to come onboard in the next couple weeks. At this point, Stein and Sons was going to succeed or fail, and him being on-site in Lancaster was not going to make much of a difference. Not to the business, anyway. Reese thought it would make every difference in his relationship.
At the soft rap on his door, he looked up. “Come in.”
He thought it might be Sandy, but Corinne came through looking as smoothly confident as she always did. She had a stack of papers in her hands. She set them on the desk.
“Résumés for the office manager position. I thought you’d like to see them. I’ve gone ahead and had Sandy schedule the top prospects for next week, but if you want to be around for them, or if you have other suggestions…” She waited, expectant.
“No, I’m sure you’ve done a great job. You’ll be working with them, anyway. Not me.”
Her expression was neutral, but that didn’t fool him. “Right. Well, anyway, those are your copies. Feel free to shred them or whatever you’d like. I’m going to the break room. Can I get you anything?”
“You don’t have to bring my coffee, Corinne.”
She let a small smile slip through. “I know I don’t have to.”
“Corinne, will you sit?”
She did. Her hands folded in her lap. She met his gaze straight on, but somehow managed to make him feel as though she were looking past and through him, not at him.
Reese frowned. “We should talk.”
“About?”
Damn it. “About Sunday.”
“Oh, Sunday, you mean two days ago, Sunday? Two days ago since I heard from you, that Sunday?”
“Stop it,” Reese said sharply.
She sighed. “This is not the place for this.”
“You’re right,” he agreed. “But I’m not going to let this go. So get your things, I’m taking you out for lunch.”
“It’s ten thirty.”
“I don’t care, we need to talk about this, and I’m not going to wait.” He stood.
She stood too. “Fine.”
*
They didn’t talk about what had happened in his apartment or in the office on the way over to the diner. Corinne had sung along with the radio though, the windows down and the wind whipping her hair into a glorious disarray. She was so beautiful it made everything inside him hurt.
He wanted this to work. He didn’t know if he could make it. He’d spent his life rebuilding businesses that were failing; sometimes, that meant breaking them apart to get at the only parts that could be saved and letting all the rest go. Sometimes, it had meant totally getting rid of everything.
Relationships were not businesses, Reese thought as he watched the woman he loved spoon sugar into her coffee.
Corinne tucked a bite of toast into her mouth and sat back in the diner booth with a sigh. “God. I can’t stuff a single more bite into my gullet, I will explode. At the very least, I’ll bust the seams of this skirt.”
“I’ll finish yours.” He was already pulling her plate toward him. He’d eaten next to nothing since she’d walked out the door of his apartment on Sunday. He was voracious now.
Watching him, Corinne let her foot nudge him again beneath the table. He chewed. Swallowed. His foot nudged hers back.
Reese wiped his mouth with a napkin and leaned forward to take both her hands in his. She didn’t curl her fingers into his grip at first, but softened after a second or so. He smiled, but she didn’t smile back.
“This might not be the place,” she began and tried to tug her hands from his, but Reese kept his grip tight enough to dissuade her.
“It’s where I met you for the first time,” he said quietly. “And it’s where you told me to meet you for the last time, but I didn’t show. I think this is exactly the place to have this talk.”
Corinne shook her head. “No. I don’t want to cry here in public.”
“I don’t want you to cry at all,” Reese said.
She studied him. Again, her grip in his eased before she turned her hands to fully link their fingers. Reese let his thumbs stroke over the backs of her hands, but said nothing. After a moment or so, Corinne withdrew her fingers from his grasp. This time, he let her.
“It’s been a long time,” she said finally. “Maybe we ought to let it go. We had our little thing, but it doesn’t mean—”