Anthony pov
The boardroom smelled like money, leather, and tension. I sat at the far end of a long glass table, next to my father, in a chair that somehow felt too big and too tight at the same time. The suits around me spoke in clipped, polished tones—projecting numbers and charts onto the walls like it was some kind of war briefing.
They spoke about dome big shot business deal with a neighboring company
My father leaned over.
"Anthony, what do you think about the A&Lmerger?"
I blinked. What the hell was a A&L merger? I hadn't heard a word they'd said.
I cleared my throat and said, "I think we need to reassess the timeline before moving forward."
That bought me a few nods. Safe answer. Noncommittal. My dad gave me an approving glance.
But my mind wasn't in that room. Not even close.
It was still sitting across from her at the pastry shop.
Camila.
Laughing quietly into her milkshake straw, the vanilla mustache she didn't even notice still playing at the corners of her mouth. She'd said thank you in such a simple, sincere way that it echoed louder than any appreciation I'd ever gotten from this table full of millionaires.
She didn't know it, but her presence pulled me out of myself. And I hadn't felt like myself in a long, long time.
"Anthony," my father said sharply, pulling me back. "Are you even listening?" I didn't even want to be here
I sat straighter, fingers tightening on the polished table edge. "Sorry. Just a bit distracted. Didn't sleep much last night."
Which wasn't a total lie. I'd stayed up replaying every second of our drive. The way her eyes lit up when I called her beautiful. The way she hesitated like she was scared of getting too close. That hesitation spoke volumes.
And yet, I wanted her close. I wanted to tell her that I'd seen her before the dock—that day she fell from the apple tree near the creek. I'd seen her watching me, curious and bright-eyed, like a secret I'd been meant to find. She didn't know I had her hair tie in my glove compartment, that I picked it up without thinking, like it belonged to someone important.
Like it belonged to her.
The meeting dragged on. Stock values. Quarterly projections. Expansion. Globalization. Everything but what I actually cared about.
My dad even mentioned something about a dinner with some business woman that was amazing at what she did sundnded like he had a thing for her I didn't care tho I just wanted out of here I was starting to feel uncomfortable in my own skin and I felt a head ache coming on.
Culinary school wasn't glamorous, but it was mine. My escape. Cooking was the one thing that let me create something warm when the rest of my world had gone cold.
My mom Andrea tought me how to cook it was one of the many things we did together my dad was too busy working or screwing some stripper to notice how good she was probably too good for him he ruining her and I will never forgive him for that .
I sent Camila a message as soon as I stepped out:
"Sorry again I had to cancel. Rain check?"
Followed by a little heart, because that felt right.
She didn't respond right away, and that only made the silence louder.
I leaned against my car in the parking garage, scrolling up through our last messages, wondering if I was doing too much… or not enough.
I wasn't even sure if she liked me she was 17 and fresh out of a relationship
I hoped she would at least give me a chance
All I knew was this:
The boardroom might be my father's world.
But that girl?
She was starting to feel like mine.