Maybe he’d hyperventilate? Or pee his pants? A girl could dream…
I straightened my pencil skirt and reached for the heavy mahogany door.
It was showtime.
The room was busy, and there were papers scattered across the large table. When I entered, I immediately homed in on the seat I knew he was occupying. He was hunched over, signing a document, and two men I could only assume were his brothers flanked him.
My lawyers nodded to me as I strutted up to the table.
And then his eyes met mine.
He dropped his pen, and the color drained from his face.
His sharp intake of breath was loud in the suddenly silent room.
I stood proudly, unmoving, letting him stare. Letting him flail. I deserved my moment of victory.
But my triumph was short-lived. In the span of three heartbeats, I found myself falling back into those blue eyes, admiring how he’d filled out with age. The crinkles around his eyes and the thick beard that coated his strong jaw.
Motherfucker.
He had no social media profiles, no internet presence at all. So I’d been unable to properly stalk him to prepare for this moment.
In my fantasies, he was old, frail, and ugly. A far cry from the robust, broad-shouldered lumberjack sitting across from me.
“August,” I said, imbuing my voice with the fakest sincerity I could muster. “I was hoping to see you today.”
He said nothing in response, only gaped, his focus so intent it made my skin heat.
The man sitting next to him, a more corporate-looking version of Gus, spoke up.
“Do you two know each other?”
Gus still hadn’t moved. He hadn’t even blinked. Checkmate.
I held my hand out to the other man, forcing my facial muscles into a facsimile of a smile.
“Gosh, I’m so rude. My apologies. I’m Chloe LeBlanc.”
I paused, savoring the feel of this moment, before I dropped the bomb.
“I’m Gus’s ex-wife.”
God, that felt good. It was all clicking into place. His brother’s eyes went wide. The brother on Gus’s other side jolted.
I, on the other hand, primly took my seat at the table. There were important papers to sign, after all.
It was a shame he had aged so well. If I were a weaker woman, I may have gotten hung up on the way his broad shoulders filled out his dress shirt or how the large, callused hands that signed the sale documents would feel on my skin.
But I was a bitch on a mission.
Gus Hebert was my first love. I had given him everything—my innocence, my heart, and worst of all, my trust.
When my mother died of cancer, my world collapsed around me. The grief was so crushing most days that opening my eyes was exhausting. But I’d had Gus, the man who’d promised to hold me, support me, and help me through the worst days.
And then he abandoned me. Traded my love, trust, and innocence for forest land. Gave up his wife, the woman he pledged to love forever, to impress his father.
I was already broken, had been since losing my mother, but he shattered me. My heart and soul were smashed into a thousand pieces.
It took me years to put myself back together. Only some pieces had shifted to new places. Others had been hastily glued together, and still more were missing altogether. There was no getting back what he’d taken from me.
So it may have taken twenty years, but I’d earned my moment.
The company he was so obsessed with? The very land he traded me for?
I owned all of it now. Every twig, every blade of grass. Every lightbulb and staple. It was all mine.
Each signature was vindication. Yes, I’d overpaid, but when I learned at the last minute that Hebert Timber was going under and being sold for parts, nothing would stop me from making it mine. This was the opportunity I’d been waiting for. And today, the satisfaction was bone deep.
I glanced up at him, gleefully hoping to find him weeping into his beard.
But then the strangest thing happened.
One side of his mouth quirked up.
A smirk.
That fucker was smirking at me.
