I braced myself on Damon’s biceps, his palms burning through my dress. Goosebumps pricked across my skin and I sucked in a breath. His scent leaned more towards cologne than the familiar, welcoming spices of his family’s restaurant. He was staring, his lips parted, his brow furrowed.

At the sound of footsteps, I jerked out of his arms. “What are you doing?”

“I’m—” He flushed and spun around, adjusting his clothes just as my father’s secretary joined us. “Hello,” he said, his voice strained.

Cora’s thick, false eyelashes and narrowed eyes always gave off the impression she saw everything. “Mr. Mae.” She thrust a drink between us, forcing Damon aside. “Alina, I have your coffee.”

“Thank you.” It was scalding hot, but at least drinking gave me an excuse not to make an idiot of myself talking to Damon.

He straightened his spine and cleared his throat. “Is Mr. Martin here? We need to finish our presentation.”

“If he left, then he is finished.” Cora spun around on her sensible heels and gestured for him to follow her.

Instead, Damon stood his ground and glared at me.

I covered my burned lips with my fingertips. “Mm, sorry.”

“‘Sorry?’” he seethed. “You ruined my presentation and that’s all you have to say to me?”

My chest tightened. “I didn’t ruin anything!” Not yet, at least. “I didn’t even know you had a meeting until I came in this morning.”

“Really? How could you work here your whole life and not know when a big meeting is happening?”

I shrugged and skimmed the rim of my cup with my middle finger. “Maybe you’re not that big.”

“We both know that’s not true.”

Oh, god.

I sipped my coffee and looked anywhere but his face, heartburn radiating from my knees to my cheeks. “How’ve you been?”

“Good.” He raised his chin. “Never been better.”

“Good for you, then,” I said, toasting him with my cup.

Why was he staring so hard? Was he hoping I’d lap up every word as he bragged? Grovel for him to take me back? Get jealous now that he was apparently doing “better than ever” and I was a momentary mess?

This aggression wasn’t like him. In high school, he’d exchanged notes with me during class, delivered surprise meals to me when he knew Dad and I were held up with work, and stayed up on video chat with me until we both fell asleep.

That guy grew up into… this, I guessed.

I crossed my arms and leaned against the wall. “Are you even going to ask how I am?”

He mirrored my stance. “You burst into a conference room and looked like you were about to cry. That kind of answers the question.”

Inhaling sharply, I drew back and headed for the office. “Okay, bye! Great running into you again!”

“Wait!” His knuckles brushed my arm. Against my better judgment, I turned to him, the softness in his expression lowering my guard. “Are you… okay?” he asked.

I shrugged and wiped my cheeks. Was it obvious that I was crying? Or was he still in tune with me after all these years?

“Is everything fine with your dad?” he prodded.

“For now, I guess.” I rubbed the goosebumps away. “Like I said, I’m sorry for interrupting your presentation. I was going to stay to make up for it, but my dad...”

Damon sighed and glared at the conference room. “He hasn’t changed. After the board members finally settled down, that Todd guy sent me away. I thought if I could get Mr. Martin to come back—”

“Dad’s not going to go against Todd.” I scowled. “He wasn’t that keen on your investment, anyway.”

“You don’t know that!”

“Yes, I do!” It never happened in the other timeline. But at Damon’s incredulous, almost pained look, I backtracked. “It’s hard to convince him to change his mind on anything. He still thinks I’m nine years old. After today, you probably think the same thing.”

“No, maybe thirteen.”

I smacked his shoulder, almost sloshing coffee onto his shirt. “Oh, sorry! Wait, no, I’m not sorry!”

“A-ha! So you admit to sabotaging me!” He grinned.

“You’re ridiculous.” I huffed, hiding a reluctant smile behind the coffee cup. “My dad probably still sees you as fourteen. Punk kid threatening his status as man of the house or something.”

He frowned and looked around. “‘Man of the House?’ This is a company.”

“Yeah, but we’re also a family.”

He hung his head with a small nod. “I see.” Damon glanced at Cora, who quickly pretended to study a wall sconce. “Perhaps your interruption was a good thing. Our companies have very different philosophies.”

“Does the Gibbons Group prefer to lose money or something?” I challenged.

Snorting, Damon stuck his hands in his pockets and started towards the elevators. “No. But it’s fine. If your dad had accepted our proposal or shown the slightest bit of professionalism, it wouldn’t be as fun to beat you all in profits.”

“That’s not going to happen!” I was going to make sure Martin Enterprises would live up to my father’s legacy.

Damon cracked a smile and pressed the button. “Let’s see. WorldCon is coming up. With their security, maybe I’ll actually get to finish a presentation without anyone crying.”

“Except their tears of relief when it’s over, naturally,” I teased.

He shook his head, hiding his expression as the elevator doors closed.

Hmm… I took another sip of coffee, savoring the rich bitterness on my tongue.

Todd’s WorldCon presentation had launched him towards replacing my father as CEO. If I led the project and did all that networking… that could be me.

That would be me!

“Cora, I’m going to need another coffee, please! No visitors! I’ll be busy.” I grinned and headed towards my office. The next time the board or Damon saw me, I’d be ready.