Striding through Antonetti’s all glammed up was almost like standing up in the reception parade in someone’s luxury wedding. Piano music trilled in the background as staff served meals on glossy, gold-rimmed plates. Well-dressed guests chatted around linen-covered tables with floral centerpieces and candles.

The hostess led us to a table next to a single diner in a sharp suit who was frowning at his phone.

Seriously?! In my other life, I didn’t see Damon for a decade, but since the crash, we’d run into each other at least once a week. Did the universe have it out for me?!

I tightened my arm around Yessica’s. We’d survived business school, business ventures, and breakdowns together. She ran her own salon. I was going to lead an entire enterprise someday. Surely we could handle dinner at the same restaurant as my high school ex.

Especially when he took one look at me in my silky Versace halter dress (Italian for Italian, Yessica had insisted) and his jaw went slack.

I smiled.

I could do this.

Just as I sucked in a breath to greet him, he tensed and answered his buzzing phone. “Hello? Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

Well, so much for being semi-friendly exes.

Yessica draped herself across the chair to his left and fluffed the centerpiece. “Nice flowers. Oh! Who ended up being the one to give you that bouquet?”

“Erm, a coworker.” I glanced at Damon, who busied himself staring at the hostess desk as I sat down. Would he even care?

“A man?” Yessica wagged her eyebrows, delicately perching her chin on her ringed, perfectly manicured fingers.

“Yes.” I flipped the menu up to hide my face before peeking back out. I could’ve sworn Damon glanced over at us. But no. Just fiddling with his phone. “Anyways, the calamari—”

“Don’t change the subject!” Yessica’s jeweled rings glittered as she waved. “That blush tells me this guy has more-than-friend potential.”

Well, yeah. He was my husband.

I willed the crystal chandelier to impale me or for Damon to move tables and spare me the awkwardness of having any sort of conversation about romance in front of him.

Yessica leaned in, her voice low and conspiratory. “Oh… is he the one you thought might be apologizing? What was the deal there?”

Sucking in a sharp breath, I glanced at Damon, who arched an eyebrow, but made no effort to acknowledge me otherwise. Just sucked down his water and glowered at the hostess desk.

“No! Not him. Uh, that guy—” I dragged the cloth napkin through my fingers and widened my eyes at my friend, silently begging her to drop the line of questioning. “He’s moved on, I think. No big deal. Minor misunderstanding.” I gulped down some water, hoping the cold would ease the flush building in my chest and cheeks. “The guy who gave me flowers is sweet, but that’s not happening.”

“Why not?”

“He’s more into the idea of playing the part of a doting partner than the reality of actually being one.” I crossed my legs, waving the approaching waiter over. “Hiiii! We’re going to start with the calamari. Yessica, was there anything else that caught your eye?”

“Pinot Grigio and that woman’s dress.”

The woman in question scanned the restaurant as she strolled from the hostess desk, her expression brightening when she spotted the rest of her party. “Damon!” The train of her wine-colored wrap maxi dress fluttered to reveal toned legs and strappy shoes as she trotted towards our table. “I’m so sorry! I lost track of time.”

“It’s fine.” Damon stood, unbuttoning his suit jacket before kissing her cheek and pulling out her chair.

My heart turned into a panicked fist pounding against my rib cage. We hadn’t dated in almost a decade, but something about their casual intimacy twisted my insides. Probably just because I was still fresh off my own breakup—if you could call a pending divorce, a car crash, and landing three years in the past a “breakup.” I tore my gaze away and focused on the entree section of the menu.

As soon as our waiter left with our orders, Yessica dove back into her line of questioning. “What was the misunderstanding? And is Bouquet Boy cute, at least? Might be worth a fling.”

Water veered down the wrong tube just as I was swallowing. I choked, desperately trying not to spray water on the nice linen tablecloth. This dinner was going to kill me.

“What’s wrong with you?” Yessica asked, offering me a napkin as I pounded on my chest.

Damon furrowed his brow at us.

“Nothing,” I wheezed. “One second. I need to send something for work.” I grabbed my phone and started texting Yessica.

“Hmm, how’s that going?”

“Fine!” I sent off the message.

“That’s it? Normally, I have to put a time limit on the subject.” She silenced her chirping phone without looking at it. “Is your dad finally appreciating that you’re a boss lady?”

If only I could hang the tablecloth up for a privacy curtain. “Hey, do you like this dress on me?” I shoved my screen towards her, waiting for her to read.

< me: You are literally sitting next to Mister Misunderstanding. My high school bf. Competitor and CEO. I can’t talk about this kind of stuff in front of him! >

Yessica’s mouth fell open as she blatantly turned from the screen to the couple next to us. “Reaaaaally?”

“Yess!” I hissed.

“Sorry, yes! You look good in everything, darling.” She settled back in her seat. “So… how’s… everything?”

I rolled my eyes. “Why don’t we talk about you for a bit? How’s the salon doing?”

We launched into an engaging enough conversation that I didn’t feel the need to eavesdrop on Damon and his date, though his winning smile and soft laughter were… distracting.

My phone blinked with a new message.

< Yessica: He’s cute ;) >

< Me: Let’s get the check and get out of here, please T-T >

< Yessica: Why? Are you sick of him staring? :P >

< Me: HE IS NOT STARING! And if he was, it’d be at the gorgeous girl across from him. Not me. >

< Yessica: You’re a stunning goddess! But I still want her dress >

After eating and paying the check, Yessica and I parted ways with kisses to both cheeks. I handed my ticket to the valet outside.

Someone sighed behind me. I turned to find Damon battered-down and weary. “Hey,” he said.

“Oh, hi,” I managed, then quickly turned around when his frown deepened. Was greeting me that painful? Shouldn’t he be pleased after a date with such a knockout?

His light footsteps meandered closer. “Aren’t you going to give me grief about not exclusively patronizing my family’s restaurant?”

“No. I’m not going to say anything.” I huffed, folding my arms. “It’s none of my business what you do, where you do it, or who you’re doing it with!”

“That’s right, it isn’t.”

Our silence swelled to the point of bursting.

Where was his date, anyways?

Damon drew up to my side, a storm brewing in the tension in his jaw. “Did Martin Enterprises reject the merger because of our history?”

“What?! No, I don’t think—”

“Because it’s business; it’s not personal for me. I couldn’t care less about you or your family!”

“Good! I don’t really care about you, either!” I declared hotly.

“Then why did you keep staring?” His eyes flashed as he straightened his spine. “You and your friend were obviously texting about me.”

My mouth hung open for a second. “We—it wasn’t anything mean. Besides, if you were so worried about our history, why’d you do the presentation? Your company should have dozens of capable representatives. Dad probably wouldn’t have even known—”

“So you admit, he’s biased!”

“Ugh, what is it about becoming CEO that makes people so self absorbed?” My phone chirped from my purse. Sighing, I unlocked the screen to make sure it wasn’t an emergency.

< Dad: Hey, sweetie! I saw on the Find Me app that you’re at that new restaurant downtown! How was it? Also, remember to wear pink for Daddy/Daughter Day tomorrow! >

“Roy’s still keeping track of you?” Damon frowned at the message on my screen. His voice was quiet and resigned. “Some things never change.”

“You did,” I said and walked away.

Damon was a successful CEO, sure, but the gentle boy I’d loved was gone forever. I wanted to make things better. Lead the company. But I didn’t want to lose myself in the process like Damon had seemed to.

As I got into my waiting car, I willed myself to put all my pain in the rearview mirror, just like Damon’s handsome, heartbreaking frame.