Maya looked from the suited man to Alex.
Then to the luxury SUV.
Then back again.
Something shifted in her expression.
Alex noticed.
The assistant noticed Maya.
“Sorry.”
He stepped back.
Alex looked at her.
“Maya—”
She read his name from the delivery receipt still visible on her phone.
“Alex Harper.”
“Yes.”
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
“Harper.”
The assistant’s face became uncomfortable.
Alex almost laughed.
Maya did not.
“Harper as in Harper Group?”
Alex hesitated.
That pause answered.
Her eyebrows rose.
“The Harper Group?”
“Technically Harper Global Holdings.”
Maya stared.
The assistant looked as if he wanted to disappear into the rain.
Alex said, “I can explain.”
She looked at Lily.
Then him.
“You’re the billionaire who owns half the buildings I deliver food to.”
“Not half.”
“Good correction.”
“Bad timing.”
Maya’s lips twitched despite herself.
Alex leaned slightly closer to the window.
“You looked at my daughter before the car.”
She met his eyes.
“I still would’ve delivered your pizza if you drove a Honda.”
“I believe you.”
“Good.”
She stepped backward.
“Then eat it before it gets cold.”
“Maya.”
She paused again.
Alex did something he had not done comfortably in years.
He asked without authority.
“Will I see you again?”
Rain ran down Maya’s cheek.
She looked at the sleeping child.
Then at him.
“Seattle’s full of pizza.”
That was not yes.
It was not no.
Then she turned and disappeared into the rain.
Alex watched until he could no longer distinguish her from the pedestrians moving beneath umbrellas.
His assistant leaned closer.
“Sir?”
Alex still looked down the street.
“Yes?”
“The board.”
Alex handed him the pizza.
“Hold this.”
The assistant stared at the box.
“Sir?”
“I need both hands.”
“For what?”
Alex opened the driver’s door, stepped into the rain, walked around the SUV, and carefully lifted Lily from the rear seat.
His daughter stirred against his shoulder.
“Daddy?”
“I’ve got you.”
Her eyes remained closed.
Alex took the umbrella.
Behind him, his assistant stood holding the pizza and leather folder while water soaked one shoulder of his suit.
Alex looked at him.
“Now we go to the board.”
The assistant stared.
“With your daughter?”
“Yes.”
“And the pizza?”
“Especially the pizza.”
For the first time that day, Alex Harper no longer cared that thirteen directors were waiting.
Three hours earlier, he had ended his third engagement.
That part of the evening had happened in a private dining room forty floors above downtown Seattle.
No rain reached the windows there.
No delivery drivers.
No sleeping children.
Only Alex and Cassandra Vale sitting across a white table while the remains of a dinner neither had eaten became cold between them.
Cassandra was thirty-four, beautiful, educated, socially effortless, and from a family wealthy enough that money should not have mattered.
That had been one reason Alex trusted her.
He understood how naive that sounded now.
“I do love you,” Cassandra said.
Alex’s expression never changed.
“You said you wouldn’t sign the agreement.”
“I said the terms were insulting.”
“The agreement protects assets belonging to Lily.”
“And what am I supposed to infer from that?”
“That my daughter’s future isn’t negotiable.”
Cassandra stared toward the city.
“You’re making me sound greedy.”
“I didn't.”
“You didn’t need to.”