Page 103 of The Silver Fox Brother

I know before I even reach for the card. I open the small envelope tucked between the stems.

I'm sorry. Please talk to me.

-R

Third bouquet this month. I set the card down and look at Maya.

"Take these. Put them in the break room or take them home. I don't care which."

Maya picks up the vase.

"You sure? They're beautiful."

"I'm sure."

She knows better than to ask questions. She just nods and leaves with the flowers. I turn back to my laptop, jaw tight.

Rowan keeps finding ways. Flowers delivered to my studio. Messages relayed through mutual acquaintances who don't know we're done. I've blocked four of his phone numbers. He keeps getting new ones. I'm done engaging. Done responding. Done giving him any opening to think there's a conversation to be had.

My phone buzzes on my desk. Text from Marcus.

Marcus: Mr. Sterling is back from Dallas. He'd like to meet for lunch today if you're available. 1 PM in Tribeca.

I stare at the message.

Lunch. Not a scheduled check-in. Not a project review meeting at his office.

Lunch.

I type back:

Winter: Is there an issue with the project?

Marcus: No issues. He'd just like to meet. The restaurant is two blocks from the site. Casual.

I hesitate, my thumb hovering over the screen.

Then I type:

Winter: Ok. What's the address?

Marcus sends the restaurant details immediately.

I check my calendar. Nothing until the realtor call at two tomorrow. The afternoon is clear.

Winter: I'll be there.

Marcus: Perfect. I'll confirm with Mr. Sterling.

At 12:45, I tell Maya to hold my calls until this afternoon and head out. The car service takes ten minutes to get from my studio to Tribeca. I spend the ride reviewing project notes on my tablet, trying to focus on millwork specifications and furniture sourcing timelines instead of the fact that Knox asked me to lunch instead of scheduling a standard office meeting.

I fail at both.

The car pulls up to a small restaurant tucked into a quiet street two blocks from the Sterling Tower site. Upscale, understated, the kind of place that doesn't need a sign because the right people already know it's there.

I take a breath and go in. The hostess greets me with a professional smile.

"Ms. Hayes? Mr. Sterling is expecting you."