Love so Hot (Misfit Millionaires #1)

Chapter 45Lawrence

Chapter Forty-Five

Lawrence

I slump into the leather chair behind my desk, the chill from the window seeping through the blinds. My thumb hovers over the glowing screen of my phone, hesitating. Then I tap out the words:

Lawrence

Willow left.

Send.

The 'typing' bubbles pop up almost instantly, a digital heartbeat in our group chat.

Roman

Man, that sucks.

No need to check the name; Roman's laid-back tone is unmistakable even in text form. He already knows, of course, but I find myself craving support from the entire group.

But it's Sebastian who slices through the sympathy with his signature sharpness.

Sebastian

Let her go, man. It’s not worth the hassle.

His message pings in, curt and clear-cut. That's Seb for you – if there's no logic to it, it's out.

"Easy for you to say," I mutter under my breath, staring at the impersonal gray bubble onscreen. His advice stings, like he's dismissing a case in court without hearing all the evidence. I picture him behind his own desk, surrounded by paperwork, not a single photo out of place. Mr. Efficient.

"Maybe for you," I type back, but delete it before hitting send.

The screen lights up with a new message. It's Roman, of course, tossing in his two cents like a coin into a wishing well.

Roman

Chase after her if you really care. What’s more important, business or her?

His words flash on the screen and I swear my heart skips a beat. He's got a point, but it's not that simple.

Lawrence

Easy for you to say. You've never been the relationship type.

But even as I hit send, I know I'm dodging the real issue.

The phone buzzes again, and this time it's Victor's turn. I brace myself for his input; Vic always gets straight to the heart of things.

Victor

Do you have true feelings for her, or is this just business?

The text sits there, sharp and probing. I stare at it, feeling like he's right here in the room, those piercing blue eyes locked on mine.

"Damn, Vic," I exhale, the words escaping into the empty office. He's calling me out—and he's not wrong.

Lawrence

Complicated

It's all I manage to reply. Because it's true. And because anything more feels like stepping off a cliff without knowing what's below.

Victor

Not a good enough answer

I sigh and let my fingers hover over the keyboard, each tap a deliberate effort to convince not just my friends but myself.

Lawrence

It’s business motivated.

This engagement was about improving public opinion for the pipeline.

Sent.

The lie sits heavy on my chest.

Sebastian

Business, huh?

Sounds like you're trying to sell that story to yourself more than us

Maybe he's right.

Roman

Doesn't sound like the guy who ranted about how 'unique' and 'spirited' she is.

Lawrence

Guys, drop it.

My response is curt, a digital snap to shut down the conversation before they peel back layers I'm not ready to confront.

But silence from them brings no peace; it only amplifies the internal cacophony. Willow's face flashes in my mind. Her passionate speeches about Earth Defenders, her calm yet fiery spirit—it gnaws at me.

I slump back in my chair, gaze lost to the ceiling. I can't keep hiding behind profit margins and corporate image. It's time to face the music—Willow's melody that's been playing on repeat in my heart.

"Damn it," I mutter under my breath. It's not just business. It never was. Every argument, every laugh, every moment she challenged me... It's all carved a notch deeper than I anticipated.

"More than business," I whisper, admitting it to the empty office as if it were a confessional. I want to make things right with her. But pride is a stubborn beast, and mine's got claws deep in my ego.

The realization is a weight, but also a release. I need to figure out what to do next, but one thing's clear—I'm in this for more than just the pipeline.

I'm stewing in my leather chair when Jason barges in. He doesn't knock, just strides across the plush carpet like he owns the place.

"The final permit's come through," he says, all business, no pleasantries. "We're greenlit for construction. Meeting with Emily is set to strategize for the protests."

"Great." The word comes out sharper than I intend. Can't help it; the guy's timing is always impeccably wrong. "Just what we need, right?" I spin my chair away from him, facing the window that overlooks Greenwood Hollow's green serenity. The serenity that I'm about to permanently disturb.

"Of course," Jason replies, unfazed by my tone. He starts pacing, the click of his polished shoes a rhythm of impending headaches. "It's a significant milestone. We should be celebrating."

"Should we?" I swivel back around, eyes narrowing on him. "You must be happy, Jay. You got your way." My voice is a whip crack, splitting the lingering silence of my admission about Willow.

Jason's features scrunch up in confusion, his eyebrows knitting together behind those irritating glasses. "What do you mean?" he asks, that meticulous tone of his not missing a beat.

It's like he doesn't get it, the weight of what's crashed down around me. His words are gasoline to the fire already burning in my chest. "You're really going to stand there and act like you don't know?"

"Lawrence, I assure you, I don't."

I shove back from my desk, standing up so fast the chair wheels spin. "The whole thing with Willow is off because of you," I snap. The words leave my mouth like bullets, each one hitting its target.

"Off? How is that—" He starts, but I don't stick around for excuses.

"Figure it out, Jay!" Cutting him off, I grab my coat from the rack with more force than necessary. "I've got to clear my head."

I'm through the door before he can reply, slamming it shut behind me. My heart's racing. Gotta breathe. Gotta think. What now, huh? What the hell do I do now?