Dammit. I really didn’t think this whole thing through.

I summon a bright smile, and carefully place the check in my purse. “This is great, thank you,” I say, hiding the ache in my chest. “I’ll be able to put down the deposit on the lab space I was telling you again.”

“We’ll set a time for you to sit down with my advisors.” Dash says, still smiling. “I know I promised to be hands-off, but these guys are real pros. They’ll be able to give you a ton of advice and pointers, about scaling up to the next level.”

“Wonderful, I really appreciate your consideration!”

My attempt to mimic enthusiasm ends up sounding like the closing line on a job application cover page. I pick up my fork and try to eat, but my appetite has disappeared.

“So, what do you say to movie night?” Dash asks.

“What? Oh, sure. Maybe.” I pick at my food. “I’m going to be pretty busy though, with all the business stuff.”

“Right. I get it.”

There’s a long pause, and I almost say something. Just blurt it out—how I feel, what I need to say—but my fear gets the better of me. What if he gives me the whole ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ speech, and says he was never looking for a relationship? I don’t have it in me to pretend I wouldn’t be crushed, and then where would I be?

Looking like a pathetic, lovelorn mess, that’s where.

“You know, I’m getting a headache,” I say, finally pushing my plate away. “Too many energy drinks,” I joke weakly. “On top of all that coffee.”

Dash frowns. “Do you want to call it a night?”

I nod, relieved. “I think I need an early night. Some peace and quiet.”

“Of course.”

Dash pays the bill, and we head outside to the sidewalk. A cab pulls up, and he opens the door for me. I pause again. As much as I want to invite him back, and spend the night wrapped up in his arms, I have a sneaking suspicion that my emotions won’t be able to play nice. “I’m heading that way,” I point, “and you’re downtown, so…”

“... I should probably get a separate cab,” he says, and nods. “OK.”

Another pause.

I try to smile. “Dinner was delicious,” I say. “Sorry for bailing early.”

“No, it’s fine.” Dash leans in and kisses me lightly. “I hope your head feels better.”

“Talk to you tomorrow.”

I get in the cab, and we pull away, leaving Dash on the sidewalk behind us. I pull the check from my purse, and just hold it for a moment, looking at those zeroes that—up until a week ago—were more than my wildest dreams.

My future. A chance to build my makeup empire.

This is what’s important, right?

I’ve always picked my career over guys, without even thinking twice. That’s what’s mattered most to me, that’s the thing I’ve always put first. My last relationship crumbled when he started resenting my ambition, and all the hours I was putting in to make it work. So whatever’s happening with Dash should be way down my list of priorities right now, with everything else I have going on.