Closest To Heaven That I'll Ever Be

14. Making Your Mind Up

I had been pacing for so long that I was beginning to suspect I might wear a path into the rug. Not a dramatic one. Just a neat little track directly between the fireplace and the sofa.

Which would be difficult to explain.

I stopped. Turned. Walked back towards the fireplace.

Stopped again.

"Right."

I clasped my hands together. Then unclasped them.

This was ridiculous.

I had already made the decision. That was supposed to be the difficult part.

It wasn't as though Draco was coming here to argue with me or convince me of anything. I had asked him to come because I wanted to tell him I was accepting the proposal.

Simple.

All I had to do was say it.

Draco, I've decided to accept.

Easy.

Except that sounded too abrupt.

Maybe—

I've considered everything carefully, and I think your proposal is an excellent opportunity.

No.

Too formal.

It sounded like I'd swallowed one of his reports.

I started pacing again.

Perhaps I should begin by explaining that Grandfather had arranged for both a business adviser and a legal professional to look over everything.

That was sensible.

Then I'd tell him they had both been impressed.

Then—

Then what?

Congratulations, you're now stuck with me.

I snorted.

Actually, that wasn't terrible.

I glanced towards the clock. Six minutes past six. He'd said just after. Fine. Perfectly normal. I smoothed my hands over the dress I'd changed into after coming home from the shop.

Then immediately frowned at myself.

The dress was unnecessary. Completely unnecessary. I could have stayed in the trousers and blouse I'd worn to work. But I'd come home earlier than expected, showered, and then somehow decided I might as well change into something comfortable.

Apparently comfortable now meant a soft dusty-blue dress that fell just above my knees and fit rather better than the robes I normally wore around the shop.

That had been a mistake.

Because now I was painfully aware that I had changed for Draco. Not for Draco. For the evening.

There was an important distinction. I looked down at the hem. "Business meeting." I tugged it slightly. "Normal business meeting."

The fireplace roared to life. I jumped so violently that I nearly tripped over the coffee table. "Bloody hell!"

Bright green flames exploded upwards. I had approximately two seconds to compose myself. Which I used to hastily straighten the hem of my dress. Obviously the most important concern.

Then Draco stepped through the flames. He brushed a small amount of soot from the shoulder of his dark coat and looked up.

For a second, neither of us spoke.