The café was crowded for a Saturday morning. Sienna had chosen a table in the back, trying not to look as guilty as she felt.
She saw Dante before he saw her. Jeans, worn hoodie, messy hair—nothing like the polished CEO. He was on his phone, nodding at whatever the person was saying.
He spotted her, held up one finger—just a minute—and finished his call outside.
Sienna rehearsed what she'd say. Your rival showed up drunk at 2 AM. I let him in. We talked for five hours. Nothing happened but also everything happened.
"Hey." Dante slid into the chair across from her, kissed her cheek. "Sorry about that. Marcus had a crisis."
"It's fine. I ordered you coffee." She pushed the oat milk latte across the table.
"You're perfect." He took a sip. "God, I needed this. Got maybe three hours of sl
