Back at the penthouse after work, Clover couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed between her and Sawyer. He’d been preoccupied after she’d gotten back from lunch and on the drive home he’d barely looked at her, let alone talked to her. Now, here she was in her room slipping on the pair of black heels he’d given her and a form-fitting little black dress with cap sleeves that ended right below her knees to go with him to a business event. The dress had always been her go-to when she needed a shot of confidence at a social event—or in this case a business dinner with the elusive Mr. Lim and his to-be-built high-rises. And considering how silent and broody Sawyer had been acting ever since she’d gotten back from her girls’ lunch, she could use it.
“Jangan takut,”she muttered to herself.
She didn’t have time to be scared anyway. The last thing she wanted was to make them late for this dinner. She’d put too much work into putting the pieces together for a real final push for success. If everything went as planned, the deal was all but done. It was strange, she’d had a million different kinds of jobs, some that mattered but most that didn’t beyond financing her next adventure. However, seeing everything come together for this deal was different. There was a sense of accomplishment that came with it, a pride of ownership. It wasn’t her deal, but she was a part of making it happen—and that would stick around that top floor office in Carlyle Tower long after she’d left. And maybe, Sawyer would remember that and remember her.
Dragging her fingers through her stick-straight hair one last time, she smoothed it down so it fell past her shoulders, grabbed the peacock purse Daphne had loaned her for that first charity event, and strode out of her bedroom hoping she looked a hell of a lot more confident than she felt.
Sawyer stood next to the table in the foyer. A pair of brand new hiking boots bearing the distinctive Dylan’s Department Store tag sat in the middle of the table. The arrival of the mysteriously missing boots should have been what grabbed her attention, but it wasn’t. All she could do was stare at Sawyer as he stood in his navy suit, checked shirt, and patterned tie shot through with blues and golds. His glasses were in his hand and he was pinching the bridge of his nose. She must have made a sound because he looked up and stopped dead in his tracks. The look he gave her wasn’t particularly friendly, but that’s not what registered with her. It was the way his suit stretched across his broad shoulders. The way the cut emphasized his muscular chest. The fact that even in a custom-made suit—or maybe because it was—the strength of his muscular thighs showed through. To top it all off, the color of his suit made the streaks of blue in mostly green and brown hazel eyes stand out and she caught her breath. Damn. It wasn’t fair that one man could look so annoyed and so hot at the same time.
“Are you nervous about dinner?” she asked.
The vein in his temple pulsed as he gave her a slow once-over. “No.”
Okay, that wasn’t exactly convincing, and her Spidey sense was blaring a warning as if she was the Titanic and Sawyer an iceberg. “Something seems off. Is everything okay?”
“Of course.”
Clover racked her brain. Had Daphne slipped? Had his mom figured it out? Was there a wife candidate who’d finally managed to catch his attention? She flinched at the thought. It wasn’t a reaction she knew what to do with. So she did what she always did in these situations, she plowed ahead, heedless of the consequences, figuring it would work out in the end. Her adventures always had before.
Reaching out, she placed a hand on his forearm, the familiar zing of attraction skittering across her fingertips. “Did I do something to piss you off?”
“No.” He glanced down at her hand, his jaw taut.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but it’s obvious you’re annoyed.” Like he might as well have a blinking neon sign overhead. He was hurting. If nothing else over the past few weeks, they’d developed a friendship, a bond. She couldn’t see him like this and not try to help. “I’m not going anywhere until you tell me what’s wrong.”
He lifted his gaze, and the lack of any emotion in his eyes chilled her to the bone.
“Maybe that’s for the best,” he said in a carefully neutral tone.
She blinked in surprise, her brain spinning trying to catch up. “Are you nuts? After all the background work I’ve done this week about Mr. Lim? We’ve barely prepped you for some of the cultural intricacies.”
“It’s a business meeting.” He slid his glasses on and then straightened his cuffs, all but dismissing her. “Mr. Lim and I have had plenty of those without you and the world hasn’t blown up.”
What. The. Fuck.
Heat swept up from her toes, and she let herself be carried away by it. “And you haven’t closed the deal, either.”
His fingers stilled on his cufflink as he slowly lifted his head, an answering frustration blazing from his eyes. Clover planted her hands on her hips and steeled herself for the onslaught. It never came. Instead, the intercom buzzed—blasting through the tense silence of the foyer.
“Mr. Carlyle,” Irving the doorman said. “Your car is here.”
Sawyer crossed to the elevator and pressed the talk button. “Thank you. Please let Linus know I’ll be down in a minute.”
He’ll be down. He’ll be down. She fought the urge to peel off one of her shoes and fling it at him. “So what’s it gonna be, Sawyer? Do I stay or shall I go?”
Shoulders stiff, he jabbed his thumb into the elevator call button, not even bothering to look at her. “Why do you even want to go?”
“Nǐ ge gǒu pì,” she snarled in Chinese because what he said was bullshit. “Because I’ve worked for this. I know you may not think much of me after you mocked my resume, but whether it’s milking snakes, tasting dog food, teaching English, or working to save endangered animals, I always see things through.”
“But only for the short term,” he flung the truth at her like a grenade.
She took an involuntary step back before stopping herself from going any farther. Gathering her pride around her, she raised her chin and faced him head on. “Then it’s a good thing we only have a few weeks to go.”
The elevator doors whooshed open and he walked inside, each step stiff, and then turned around, his face an impassive mask. “So are you coming?”