Alice's POV
I glared at him but didn't answer because we both knew I wouldn't have.
"Get out of the car," he repeated. "We're having dinner, we're going to talk, and then I'll take you home. That's it."
"And if I refuse?"
"Then we sit here in the parking lot all night," he said with a shrug. "Your choice."
I got out of the car and followed him inside, my heels clicking on the pavement so hard as a result of the anger. The hostess smiled at Bryan like she knew him.
"Mr. Hale, your table is ready," she said.
She led us to a corner table, private and secluded. Bryan pulled out my chair, and I sat down, keeping my purse on my lap like a shield.
"You're angry," Bryan said once we were alone.
"You think?" I said sarcastically.
"I needed to get you somewhere we could talk without interruptions," he said, picking up the menu. "My office isn't private enough, your apartment is too small, and I'm not inviting you to my penthouse because that sends the wrong message."
"What message is that?" I asked.
He looked up at me, his eyes meeting mine. "That this is anything other than business."
A waiter appeared, and Bryan ordered wine without asking what I wanted, and when the waiter left, I leaned forward.
"If this is about your proposition, I already told you I need time."
"It's not just about that," he said. "It's about understanding who you are. I don't make business deals with people I don't know."
"You know everything about me. You have my employee file, you probably ran a background check, and you know about Sterling & Cross."
"I know facts," he said. "I don't know you."
"Why does that matter?"
"Because if we're going to work together, if we're going to enter into a legal contract, I need to know I can trust you," he said calmly. "And you need to know you can trust me."
The wine arrived, and Bryan poured us both a glass. I took a sip and let my mind settle before talking.
"Fine. What do you want to know?"
He leaned back in his chair, studying me. "Why did you marry Daniel?"
The question caught me off guard. "What?"
"You're clearly intelligent, you had a good career, and you could have had any life you wanted," he said. "So why did you marry him?"
I looked down at my wine glass. "Because I thought he loved me. Because I thought I'd finally found someone who wouldn't leave."
"Your parents?" he asked.
"My mother left when I was ten," I said quietly. "My father drank himself to death by the time I was twenty. I raised myself, put myself through college, and built a career from nothing. When Daniel asked me to marry him, I thought... I thought I'd finally have a family."
Bryan was quiet for a moment. "And instead, he betrayed you."
"Yes."
"And your best friend," he added.
"Yes," I repeated, my voice harder now.
"That's why you don't trust people?"
"Can you blame me?" I asked.
"No," he said politely. "I don't trust people either."
I looked up at him. "Why not?"
He smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "You want my tragic backstory now?"
"Fair is fair," I said.
He took a sip of his wine, then leaned forward.
"My mother left when I was ten, too. She couldn't handle my father's obsession with the business, with building an empire, and she chose her freedom over her son."
"I'm sorry," I said quietly.
"Don't be," he said. "She made her choice. My father made his choice too. He chose the company over everything else. Over family, over relationships, over happiness. And now he's trying to force me into a marriage I don't want because he thinks it will make me more 'stable' for the board."
"Is that why you don't believe in love?"
He looked at me sharply. "Who said I don't believe in love?"
"You did. At the hotel that night. You said relationships are either business or temporary pleasure."
He was quiet for a long moment. "You remember that?"
"I remember everything about that night," I said before I could stop myself, and the air between us shifted and became charged. Bryan's eyes darkened slightly as he looked at me.
"So do I," he said quietly.
The waiter appeared to take our order, and the moment broke.
But I couldn't stop thinking about what he'd said and that he really did remember that night.
After dinner, Bryan ordered coffee, and we sat there watching the city lights.
"I need your answer, Alice," he finally said.
"I know."
"This weekend," he pressed. "You'll decide by this weekend?"
"Yes."
"Will you think about it?" he asked. "Not just dismiss it because it seems crazy?"
"I'll think about it," I promised.
He nodded, seemingly satisfied. He paid the bill, and we left. In the car, I leaned my head against the window and closed my eyes.
When we pulled up to my building, Bryan turned off the car.
"Thank you for tonight," he said.
I looked at him, surprised. "You're thanking me?"
"Yes," he said. "For being honest. For giving me a chance to explain. For not running away even though I lied to get you here."
"You're welcome," I said softly.
I reached for the door handle, but Bryan's voice stopped me.
"Alice."
I turned back. "Yes?"
"That night at the hotel," he said, his eyes locked on mine. "I don't regret it."
My breath caught in my throat, and before I could respond, he leaned across the console and kissed me. His hand came up to cup my face, and I found myself kissing him back, with my hands gripping his shirt.
When he finally pulled away, we were both breathing hard.
"Think about that too," he said, his voice rough. "When you're making your decision."
Then he got out of the car, came around to open my door, and walked me to my building entrance without another word.
I went upstairs in a daze, my lips still tingling and my heart racing.
When I got inside my apartment, I closed the door and leaned against it. My phone buzzed, and I picked it up to check, only to realize it was a text from Bryan.
"Goodnight, Alice," it read, and I stared at the message for a long moment before typing back.
"Goodnight, Bryan," I replied and put my phone down. I walked to my bedroom, but I knew I wouldn't sleep tonight. What on earth am I supposed to do?