The Missing Heir(115)
The color drained from her face.
Leaving, he followed Amber into his office.
She was standing at the window, back to him, staring into the sunny Atlanta afternoon.
He closed the door, composing and discarding opening lines. “I was going to talk to you tonight.”
She turned. “I can’t believe I fell for it—hook, line and sinker.”
He automatically moved toward her. “You didn’t fall for anything. I’ve barely decided. I only decided this morning that selling is the best thing for everyone.”
“You mean the best thing for you.”
“No, not for me.” He amended that statement. “Yes, okay, for me. But only because I could never do it. It’s not humanly possible to run two airlines. I wanted to do it. I thought about doing it. Believe me, I came at doing just that from every angle I could.”
“Over an entire two days?” she taunted.
“And before.”
“Before? You’d planned to sell out before we even went to court?”
“I didn’t plan to sell out. I considered the possibility that I might have to sell out.”
“You don’t have to do anything, Cole.”
He hated the coldness in her eyes. “I have a plan.”
“Clearly, you’ve had a plan all along. Do you have a conscience? Do you have a soul?”
“A plan for us,” he explained. “I want you to come to Alaska as often as you can.”
She reached out to grip the window ledge. Her voice was a rasp. “Alaska?”
“To see Zachary. And me, of course.” He hoped she’d want to see him. She had to want to see him. He’d come to need her in his life.
She scoffed. “Last time you invited me to Alaska, you admitted you were being insincere and misleading, even manipulative.”
It took him a second to remember his words. But he did, and he regretted them deeply. “That was a long time ago.”