Closest To Heaven That I'll Ever Be

23. If I Could Turn Back Time

Actually, it was a few weeks before I saw Draco again.

Not that I was counting. I absolutely was not counting.

I simply happened to be aware that several weeks had passed because I owned a calendar, ran a business and generally possessed a basic understanding of the passage of time.

That was all.

I assumed he was busy, and it didn't particularly faze me. We were business partners. Business partners didn't have to know where each other were at all times. In fact, I was reasonably certain that would be considered strange.

And clingy. And possibly grounds for dissolving a business partnership.

Besides, he had a girlfriend, for goodness' sake.

That thought had become something of an irritating little reminder I found myself having to give my brain whenever it decided to replay our evening together. Or the garden. Or Draco lying beside me beneath the stars. Or him calling me Ade.

Girlfriend.

Very beautiful girlfriend. Very angry girlfriend. A girlfriend who apparently had access to magical screaming orbs and wasn't afraid to use them.

So, no, I wasn't wondering where Draco was.

He was busy. I was busy. Everybody was busy.

Perfect.

He hadn't disappeared from the business side of things, anyway. Quite the opposite.

A few days after our evening together, Isabella arrived at the shop carrying a leather folder thick enough to knock someone unconscious with.

Apparently Draco had already started the process of finding us a suitable storage and production property.

There were photographs, floor plans, Ministry classifications, projected renovation costs and lists of advantages and disadvantages for each building.

I understood approximately fifteen percent of it.

They all looked fine to me.

One had slightly nicer windows.

That was about as sophisticated as my commercial-property expertise became.

Thankfully, Isabella was brilliant. She patiently took me through every option, explaining accessibility, transportation links, expansion potential, refrigeration installation, Ministry permits and how much magical alteration each building could tolerate before structural reinforcement became necessary.

I nodded along intelligently.

Or at least I hoped I did.

By the end, I was even more confused than when we'd started.

"So?" Isabella eventually asked. "Do you have a preference?"

I stared at the photographs spread across my counter. "The white one is pretty."

She blinked. Then laughed. "I'll put that down as a point in its favour."

"In all seriousness, I haven't a clue." I pushed the folder back towards her. "Whichever one Draco thinks is best."

Isabella's eyebrows lifted slightly. "You trust his judgement?"

"With this? Completely. Draco understands commercial property. I understand why storing powdered moonstone beside dried feverfew is a terrible idea. We all have our talents."

She smiled. "I'll let him know."

That had been the extent of my contact with Draco. Indirect communication through his assistant.