Page 85 of Brewing Up My Fresh Start

Her response comes immediately:Of course. Coffee’s already brewing.

The walk to her apartment feels like a death march. Every step takes me closer to potentially ending the best thing that’s ever happened to me for the sake of protecting it.

Michelle opens the door wearing yoga pants and my t-shirt from last night, and the sight of her in my clothes nearly destroys my resolve entirely. Her hair is sleep-messed and she’s holding two mugs of coffee, and she looks so trusting and happy to see me that I almost turn around and walk away rather than do what I’m about to do.

“Morning,” she says, standing on her toes to kiss me, and the casual intimacy of the gesture makes my chest ache. “What timeline changes? Did the investors want to accelerate the construction schedule?”

“Something along those lines.” I accept the coffee but don’t drink it, can’t trust my hands not to shake. “Michelle, we need to talk about your involvement in the development project.”

Her expression shifts from sleepy contentment to alert concern. “What kind of involvement discussion?”

“The kind where I need to be honest about the professional risks of mixing business with personal relationships.”

She sets down her mug with careful control, and her emotional walls start rebuilding in real time. “Professional risks.”

“Working together on grant applications and community outreach has been incredible, but it’s created complications I didn’t anticipate.”

“What kind of complications?”

I should tell her about David. I should explain the threat and let her make her own decisions about how to handle her predatory ex-fiancé. But telling her means admitting that trusting me has made her vulnerable again, and I can’t stomach being another source of betrayal in her life.

“The kind where investors get nervous about developers who appear to be making decisions based on personal relationships rather than sound business principles.”

Her face goes very still. “Sound business principles.”

“Michelle, you have to understand—this project affects dozens of jobs, millions in economic development, the financial future of everyone invested in Twin Waves’ growth. I can’t let personal feelings compromise professional obligations.”

“Personal feelings.” She repeats my words like she’s testing them for poison. “Is that what our collaboration has been to you? Personal feelings compromising professional judgment?”

“That’s not what I meant?—”

“Then what did you mean, Grayson?” Her voice carries controlled fury that’s more dangerous than shouting. “Because it sounds like you’re saying our partnership is a liability that needs to be managed.”

“I’m saying that mixing business with romance creates vulnerabilities that could hurt both of us.”

“Vulnerabilities.” She laughs, but the sound carries no humor. “You mean the kind where you trust someone with your research? Where you share innovative solutions with a development partner who might use them against you?”

The parallel to David Norris is so exact it makes my skin crawl. “Michelle, that’s not?—”

“Isn’t it?” She stands up, pacing away from me with sharp, angry movements. “Tell me, Grayson, what changed between last night when you called me your girlfriend and this morning when I became a professional liability?”

Heat climbs the back of my neck; the room shrinks a few degrees. The answer I can’t give sits heavy on my tongue.

I can’t tell her about Norris without revealing that I’ve potentially exposed her to exactly the kind of betrayal she’s been protecting herself from. Can’t admit that our beautiful collaboration might have painted a target on everything she’s built.

“Nothing changed. I’m trying to protect what we’ve built together.” The wordprotectscrapes on the way out. Shoulders tight. Breath going shallow. Damp palms.

“By ending what we’ve built together?”

“By being realistic about what sustainable partnership looks like when significant financial interests are involved.”

She stares at me as if I’ve revealed something fundamentally disappointing about my character. “Sustainable partnership. Financial interests. Grayson, do you even hear yourself right now?”

My jaw locks. The contractor in me wants to square everything plumb; the man in me wants to beg.

“I’m trying to make responsible decisions?—”

“You sound exactly like David.”