It All Started with a Divorce

MY HEART was pounding so loud it drowned out the chatter around me. I was hyperventilating, needing a breather.

I was about to turn back to the elevator, but I thought, wouldn't that make me look like a coward?

Lifting my chin, I met his gaze and even offered a small smile as I approached the table.

I saw the way he studied me from head to toe. Then, a spiral of emotions began to take over my body.

Suddenly, all the memories of his touch came flooding back.

"Ellie," he called my name, and I thought my knees were going to give out.

He stood up from his chair, and boy, oh boy, the jerk hadn't changed a bit. He was still yummy as fuck.

"Pleasure to have you here," he said as he pulled out a chair for me and held out his hand.

I think I had been holding my breath for too long. "It is a pleasure to have 'you' here, Mr. Blackwood. I didn't know you were willing to discuss this proposal with me." His hand was still outstretched, and I was awkwardly standing by the chair.

"Shake my hand?" A side of his lips lifted, gesturing his hand that was waiting for me to reach.

Licking my lips, I gathered all my courage and reached for his hand. The moment our hands touched, I thought I was going to pass out.

Why was I acting like this?

What was I, some kind of lovesick teenager meeting her ultimate crush? He was my ex-husband for goodness' sake!

He gave my hand a light squeeze.

As if I had been burned, I pulled my hand away quickly, leaving him hanging in the air.

There was a hint of amusement in his eyes, and I hated it.

"Shall we?" He offered, taking his seat and signaling to a waiter.

My eyes fell on the menu, and I found nothing mouthwatering on it because the whole meal was sitting right in front of me.

"What about you, Ellie? What's your order?"

I hadn't noticed I was spacing out, staring blankly at the menu until he asked. "I'm sorry?" I blinked a few times. "Uh-- I'll just uhm... order what he gets."

The waiter left, carrying the menus.

Unconsciously, my hand reached for a stray strand of hair and tucked it behind my ear.

Our area was quieter than the rest of the restaurant, since the tables around us were suspiciously empty, and we were far away from the crowds.

"So," he broke the silence. "I see you're interested in making it bigger. It's quite... amusing," he took his time describing whatever Bree had made me look like, but I managed a smile. A shaky smile.

"You see, Mr. Blackwood, I've been thinking about how we can both benefit from this new situation. I know we're competitors, but I also see the potential for collaboration," I began professionally, clasping my hands on the table and keeping my back straight.

He raised his eyebrows and slightly tilted his head to the side, humming softly. "Call me Val," he said, making me pause for a moment.

"Mr. Blackwood--"

"It's Val," he cut me off.

No one dared to give him nicknames, not even his family, let alone his acquaintances. He once told me how special I was to him, giving me the huge ass privilege of calling him by his first name, and even a nickname.

"I am certainly not my father, and we both know each other. So, why the formalities?" He slid his hand across the table and reached for his wine.

I hadn't eaten anything before I came here, just my spit and the courage pill that wasn't effective, but I felt like there was something stuck in my throat.

Clearing my throat, I kept a straight face.

"This is a business--"

"It's Val, baby," he repeated, and this time, with a pet name that had me choking on my own spit.

I mentally smacked my head and told myself to stay focused on his lips-- I mean, on whatever he said and stay composed no matter what happened.

His presence was already making me edgy. What about those eyes that made me spell 'lust'? What about his voice that made me want to beg him to dominate me? This was plain torture for me.

Years had passed, and I could recall cursing in the air that I had moved on and that I was more than sure to leave my past behind, along with the complicated feelings I had for him. But what was this? Why was I so affected by him?

"Everyone calls you Mr. Blackwood." I didn't have to check the facts listed under his name, I perfectly knew how he wanted himself addressed by his surname and never with his name. "And regarding the proposal I was--"

"Your lips still look edible." He cut me off again before sipping his wine, obviously showing me how the lump in his throat bobbed up and down.

I had to cross my legs when a familiar tingling sensation between my thighs started bugging me.

His eyes were staring at my lips, which I unknowingly licked. He was intending to make me want to pee myself.

"The purpose of this meeting is to discuss the proposal I--" I wanted to repeat, but he just wouldn't let me talk.

"I'm willing to sign the contract," he said, placing the wine glass down on the table. "I liked the idea."

That was... fast.

I was expecting him to give me a hard time making him agree with this. Throw me a rough criticism and slap it in my face that I would never be connected to his name again.

"What?"

"After signing each other's contract, let's arrange an open event. I like the idea of 'Tropical Night' and 'Sunset Celebration', considering that guests would love some beach parties," he continued, leaning closer to the table. "My resort doesn't offer island hopping, yours does. It's a good thing you opened up a piece of alliance where we could... benefit with each other's business."

It was either a relief or a burden to me.

Just as easy as that, the resort was saved. But that only meant... I had to bear with Valerian while the contract was still on.

"That's... uh-- I'm grateful that you liked my proposal," I stuttered, lost for words. I anticipated something harder than just sitting in front of him, but instead... he accepted it without a sweat.

"Honestly, I wasn't intrigued by making an alliance or in any form of collaboration since I wanted to make an independent business here on the beach, but when I read the proposal, I wouldn't deny that you piqued my interest."

I should thank my sister later.

"Besides, it's a greater way to attract a wider audience, create a sense of community. It wasn't that bad of an idea," he shrugged and looked at me viciously. "We could make this work, yes, Ellie?"

Nodding my head, I could breathe on one hole of my nose, finally. "That's great! Yeah, I mean..." Shit! I was having trouble looking back at him. "I'm confident that we can come up with something truly special while we put this plan under construction."

While I was speaking, he was only looking at me like there was something on my face, causing me to feel self-conscious about how I looked. Did I do my eyebrows too thick? What about my blush? Did I look like a stoplight?

Shit, I had to keep myself relaxed.

"I never heard any news of you dating anyone since our divorce," he suddenly brought up, leaving the business talks behind.

Indeed he was right. But did that mean he was keeping his eyes and ears on me? What a stalker!

Our order came, and the waiter wished us a great dinner.

"These delicacies are indeed mouthwatering." 'But not as salivating as you do', I wanted to add. "I've heard about this place before but never really had a chance to eat here," I shared, just to neglect what he wanted to talk about.

"Yes, steaks here are the best."

"Been here often?" I asked, taking the napkin and placing it on my lap.

"But I tasted something tastier than any of these," he added, ignoring my question and hinting something as he started slicing his food.

"Yeah, let me guess, pasta?" I rode along, but I sought it as a mistake.

"You," he confidently uttered.

Did I just swallow the air? "Excuse me?"

He stabbed the meat and slowly took a bite while those emerald eyes were glued on me, like how he's supposed to look at what he's eating.

Squinting at him, my whole body was frozen. What did he think he was doing?

Whenever he gnawed, his jaw became firm, boasting the masculinity on his face. His thick brows were relaxed, but there was a part of him that told me the tension. Where was that?

"Mr. Blackwood, my purpose of meeting you doesn't intend other than business. So, please, let's show some etiquette and have virtue while we share dinner," I said, making him chuckle.

I frowned, I couldn't find anything funny from what I said.

"What's so funny?"

"You never really changed, my Elodie," he replied, shifting his eyes to my chest, which exposed my cleavage. Causing me to feel a bit... harassed, but at some point, I wanted him to look at me that way. "I wonder..." He added yet chose to keep it trailed off.

As much as I wanted to know what was in his mind, I reminded myself to be a figure that had to be respected. "I'm not yours, Mr. Blackwood."

"Hm-mm?" He hummed, challenging me.

"May I ask what's to talk about personally for dinner when you've already decided to sign the contract? You think that maybe you could've just called my secretary or my sister?"

"I want to show you my resort tonight, since the opening will happen in a week. I might as well show you what's inside my... place," he replied.

I was sensing something fishy. "Maybe we should just schedule that, Mr. Blackwood. I still have a lot of things to attend to."

"From what I could recall, your sister clearly told me that you will be free tonight, that was why I invited you to join me for dinner."

Okay, scratch thanking Bree, I'll knock her out the moment I see her.

"You were in DC, right?"

"Are you spying on me, Mr. Blackwood?" I frankly asked him.

"Us being divorced doesn't mean I'm not in touch with your father. Uncle Harrison mentioned to me yesterday about your flight," he explained.

I felt so betrayed. Even my own family didn't even put just a few distances away from him!

"So... you can't reason with me, baby. You're 'coming' with me tonight."