A Billionaire's Mistake

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Chapter Twenty-Eight: Home

Sienna

It's been a week since I received an overwhelming bouquet from Lincoln. It showed up in my hotel room in a box almost the same size as my body, and as soon as I opened it, a lot of the rose petals were already dead, floating to the hardwood floor and creating a heaping mess. I didn't have to read the letter to know that the bouquet was from Lincoln. In fact, I still haven't read it. The pale yellow envelope is sitting unopened on the nightstand by the bed in my hotel room, a constant temptation to rip the paper and read his words.

What if I don't like what he said? What if he's wanting to end things permanently, and the bouquet was just a weird way of parting our separate ways? Maybe that's why I couldn't bear to read it. Or maybe it's because I've been so fucking busy with this new client that I hardly have time to blink. I could barely scarf down a croissant from the local bakery without an email popping up on my phone.

So much for enjoying Europe.

We've been trying to fit everything in while I've been here. Promotional videos for social media, an entirely new website design, and an array of different internet ads. Normally my team can handle all of these things, but since this is an international client I want to make sure I oversee the progress to make sure it's getting done correctly.

I'm currently sitting in the boardroom of Fraise Stella, and Frances, the client, has been hammering Reed with questions about the social media AD. He wants the model to show more skin, as the people of France don't shy away from nudity, but I let Reed handle his questions. I trust him enough to please the client.

"How revealing are you wanting her to be?" Reed asks, not in a malicious way, just genuinely curious.

Frances shrugs. "Sex sells. If the model takes his shirt off, it'll attract more attention, no? Who doesn't love abs?" His accent is thick, and he makes the other employees around him laugh.

Reed launches into new plans since the goal is to please the client, and I inwardly groan at the fact that I'm now probably going to have to be here for two more days to shoot the video all over again. It certainly didn't help that Frances brought up abs, because now I can't stop thinking about Lincoln and the eight-pack he so effortlessly wears.

Damn Lincoln and his stupid feelings. Why did he have to ruin what was going on between us? Things were so great. I was happy for the first time in eight long years, and now I'm just...hollow. I can't think straight. Even in this board room, I seem to have lost my voice. All I can think about is Lincoln and the way his body felt so right against mine. When he hugged me, I wasn't the broken girl that I pictured myself to be. I was strong, confident, and ready to conquer the world.

At first, I thought walking away would be the right thing to do. I'm not ready to be in a relationship, and I told him that, but now that I've been in Europe for two weeks without him, now that I don't have his stupid smile to look at while I teach him about business, or him to steal the last piece of my sweet and sour chicken, I'm more depressed than I've ever been.

I know it's because I have feelings for him too, so why didn't I say it?

Because you're scared.

I blink away tears and stare down at the notes in front of me, my hands shaking in my lap at the realization of my feelings. I walked away because I was scared, and because of my reluctance, I might have just lost the best thing to ever happen to me.

Lincoln never once pressured me to do anything I wasn't ready for. He was patient and sweet, and everything any girl could ever want in a man, and I lost him. He ended things, and I lost him.