Page 24

I couldn’t have been more than six, maybe seven, sitting cross-legged on the sun-warmed tile of our little apartment kitchen, my elbows planted on the table like I was about to solve the global economy with a box of crayons and an overactive imagination.

My mom was peeling potatoes at the sink, humming something soft and old in Spanish, a song I never knew the name of but always felt like a lullaby tucked inside a breeze.

After getting married to my father, she barely ever showed her Mexican roots. The rare occasions were times like this in the kitchen, when we made food together.

“Mamá,” I declared, chest puffed out like a pint-sized superhero, “when I grow up, I’m going to be so successful. Like…Beyoncé-successful. But with glasses.”

She chuckled, glancing over her shoulder. “With glasses, ah? That’s the important part?”

“Very important.” I nodded solemnly. “Because I’ll read so many books, my eyes might get tired. But it’s okay. I’ll get the really smart-looking ones with gold rims.”

She laughed again, louder this time, and I believed that sound could melt the frost off any bad day. I loved making her laugh. It felt like winning the lottery. The real one, not the scratch-off kind she kept hidden in the drawer under the phone.

I got up and marched over to her, tugging on the hem of her old T-shirt. “I’m going to build us a big house. Huge. Like, twenty bedrooms—”

“Twenty?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“Yeah. One for you, one for me, one for each of the books I’ll write, and maybe one for the dog we’ll finally get.”

She wiped her hands on a towel and crouched to my level, her brown eyes soft and warm like cinnamon. “You don’t need to be rich for me to be proud of you, mi amor.”

I shook my head stubbornly. “I know. But I want to. I want to take you on vacations to the Bahamas. Or the Maldives. Or Hawai—wait, is it Hawaii or Hawai’i? Because I want to say it right when I book the trip for us.”

That made her eyes water a little, though she smiled through it, pulling me into one of those hugs that made me feel like the center of the whole universe. “Whatever it’s called, if I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.”

And I meant it, every silly, starry-eyed promise.

I threw myself into school like it was a quest, like each spelling test or math quiz was another step closer to palm trees and beachfront property.

I read everything I could get my hands on—novels, newspapers, the backs of cereal boxes, and even the warranty pamphlet that came with the toaster.

Because words were bridges, and I was determined to build one strong enough to carry us out of that cramped kitchen and into every dream I’d ever whispered between its peeling yellow walls.

***

Today is going to be a great day.

I had repeated the mantra over a hundred times already. In the bathroom, after breakfast, on my way to work. I was going to forget all my problems in life and focus on delivering the best pitch ever to the band of investors we were expecting today.

I was going to walk into that room and nail it. And maybe then, I could reconsider taking Robert up on that promotion offer.

I glanced sideways at my team walking with me. Ava’s lips were pressed into a nervous line as she adjusted the hem of her blazer; Leo’s eyes locked on the iPad he cradled like a life raft; and Kelsey was clutching her water bottle with the quiet fury of a woman reciting bullet points in her head.

I might have laughed. We looked like soldiers walking toward a battlefield lined with espresso machines and Italian leather chairs.

“Remember,” I said, trying to steady my voice more for their sake than mine, “focus on the feeling. The campaign isn’t just luxury; it’s belonging. It’s that moment someone steps through their door and thinks, ‘This is mine. This is me.’”

Leo nodded, still scrolling. “Got it. Highlight the personalization angle, skip the stats slide if they’re engaged.”

Kelsey spoke up, her voice tight. “You think they’ll ask about the delivery hiccups in Q1?”

“We hope to God they don’t,” I said. “But if they do, we’ll own it. Then we’ll show them what we did to make it right. Resilience is also luxury.”

Ava smiled faintly. “You always know what to say, Elena.”

I didn’t answer right away. My hand brushed the cool brass handle of the conference room door as I exhaled slowly. The knot in my stomach pulled tighter, but I didn’t let it show.

“You guys ready?” I asked, looking at each of them.

They nodded a little too quickly.

So, I smiled. “Then let’s remind them why Luxe Nest doesn’t follow trends. We set them.”

And with that, I pushed the door open.

The moment we stepped into the conference room, the soft click of my heels echoed off the polished glass walls. The scent of espresso and citrus cleaner hung in the air, crisp and clean, like everything else at Luxe Nest.

I didn’t talk about it a lot, but I was proud of where I worked. Sleek lines. Subtle lighting. Minimalist luxury. Everything about the place made me comfortable.

My team flanked me, and I was confident in their practiced and collected expressions. We’d rehearsed every word, every slide, every answer.

I adjusted the cuff of my fitted black dress, a small gesture to remind myself I owned this pitch. My strategy was simple: Luxe Nest was beyond just home luxuries. We were about aspiration, about the quiet power of indulgence.

And today, we were about to convince a room full of investors why we were worth every cent.

At the head of the table, Robert gave me a thumbs up, and I smiled in appreciation.

I flipped open my laptop, ready to start.

And that was when I saw Damien.

What the heck?

He sat among the investors, casually poised in that way only he could manage, like the room answered to him even though he said nothing. His eyes met mine across the table, and the intensity there gave me a punch to my stomach.

I suddenly remembered his seed lying cozily in my womb, and my best friend in the hospital.

For half a second, my breath caught, and the ripple of panic tried to rise in my chest.

Get it together, Elena. He’s only a human being.

Robert’s eyes asked if something was wrong, and my team waited expectantly, but I could see the line of worry forming on their faces.

I gave a small nod to the room and moved forward.

I could feel his gaze following me like a ghost, trailing down my back, reading every micro-expression I hadn’t meant to show.

As I started the presentation, my voice came out even and clear, thankfully. I wasn’t about to make a fool of myself and my career because of a man.

“Good morning. Luxe Nest isn’t just about products; it’s about presence. We redefine home luxury for those who demand more from the spaces they live in.”

The slides flipped, my fingers steady on the remote. Behind me, Ava chimed in on market growth, and Leo cued up the digital preview. We moved as one, just like we had rehearsed. But inside, I was fraying.

Every time I glanced toward the investors, I forced myself to look past Damien. I couldn’t afford to let my eyes linger on him.

But I felt him.

Watching.

Waiting.

And damn him, he knew it.

The room applauded as I wrapped up, but my smile was taut. I turned away quickly, pretending to shuffle my notes, desperate to hide the tremble in my fingertips.

I had been flawless and professional, but inside, I was shaking. Because no amount of success in this room could shield me from the storm that still churned whenever he stepped into my orbit.

Robert rounded up the meeting, and I joined my team to wait outside, preferably in a corner that was far away from the conference room.

They were so excited, they were talking over one another, reeling from how we’d smashed the presentation. I wish I could feel the happiness they did. Mine was short-lived the second I saw Damien seated at that table.

Robert stepped out of the conference room and approached me after excusing the others. It was the first time I’d seen him genuinely smile in weeks.

“Well done, Elena.” He clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Seriously, that was one hell of a pitch. Even I wasn’t expecting you to pull off that level of finesse.”

I managed a tight smile. My chest was still rising and falling too fast.

Then Robert’s voice lowered, almost conspiratorially.

“I know, I’m equally surprised that your best friend’s father reached out to me concerning making a huge investment in Luxe Nest. I guess it’s his way of apologizing for shoving me that night at the party.

He really doesn’t look like the type of man who’s good with sorry .

“But that’s not the only reason I came here. He says he wants to talk to you. Privately. He’s in one of the empty offices. The one down the left. Susan’s former office.”

I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.

“Don’t be nervous,” Robert added, with a chuckle that felt too light for the heaviness in my chest. “I’m pretty sure he was blown away. Just like I was.”

I nodded, the motion automatic, even as my throat tightened around the effort to swallow.

The conference room began to empty, laughter and celebration trailing out into the hallway. My team was already half-convinced we’d secured the deal. And I was convinced that today wasn’t going to be a great day after all.

I waited until the last voice disappeared. Then, I started for Susan’s former office.

I pushed it open.

Damien stood by the window, hands in his pockets, as composed and unreadable as ever. Just looking at him almost got the wind knocked out of me. My legs turned to jelly when he turned slowly, his eyes meeting mine.

“Elena.”

I swallowed hard and shut the door behind me. My voice was stable. My heart was not.

“Damien. I know asking what you’re doing here under the guise of investing will be pointless. So, why don’t we just cut to the chase? Tell me what you want and how I can be of assistance to you, professionally.”