Page 16

“Brunch.”
“Right. Brunch.”
I doubted this was a place that recognized brunch as a meal, though. Pierre’s had a special menu for brunch, served specifically between eleven and noon. My avocado toast was only available on that menu.
I closed my eyes to will myself to stop thinking about it. Yes, I’d pick the worst meal for him possible from this place—or just let him go hungry.
“Why did you take this job?” I asked him while the waitress took her sweet time coming over, attempting to nonchalantly sit back into the booth. It gave a wheezing creak as I did so. “What was the selling factor that made you put your life on hold for a rich girl who can’t keep herself out of trouble? Was it the fact that they’re letting you live in the hotel?”
“I worked as a secretary at a different company back home,” he said, jumping into my interrogation. “I figured it was a good use of my skills.”
“And my kiss didn’t run you off?”
I didn’t think Sumner would take the question as seriously as he did. The fingers holding onto his menu tensed a little, but I noticed it. Years of training to pick upevery minor detail had my mind focusing in on it all. “At the event Saturday. You were standing alone in the corner of the room, looking up at the chandelier, and in a room filled with people, it was like you were the only one in the world.”
A small smirk tugged at my lips. “You fell in love with me at first sight, didn’t you? One kiss and it was over for you?”
Sumner didn’t look amused, and this time, he did not blush at my teasing. “No. I feltsorryfor you.”
I felt the traces of my smile disappear from my face.
He redirected his attention to his menu. “I told you that I couldn’t help but think how lonely you looked. That’s why I’m being nice.”
It was strange to hear, because while, in that moment, I’dfeltalone, I hadn’t realized it’d been so obvious to anyone who bothered to look. To a complete stranger. Which meant that either no one ever looked closely, or no one cared enough to do anything about it.
Underneath the table, my hand twitched into a loose fist. “So, you’re being nice out of pity?”
“You’re trying to spin it into a negative.”
“No positive is without its negative.”
“That’s a sad thought process, isn’t it?”
It didn’t feel sad. It was right, justified given what environment I’d grown up around in. Even Nancy, with how refreshing she was, wasn’t without her negativity. No positive without a negative. No give without a take.
Being alone is a choice, Nancy had said.It isn’t forced upon you like you think it is.
“It’s easier,” I said, answering his sentence and Nancy’s aloud. “To always assume there’s a negative.”
Sumner didn’t argue the fact. He looked as if he genuinely thought about it. That was another thing about him that was so different from anyone else around here—he listened when I spoke, digested it. He didn’t give a fake laugh and empty assurances. Even just from seeing him twice, that was one thing about his character I was sure about.
“It doesn’t have to be that way with me,” he said at last. “As your friend, you don’t have to worry about any negatives with my positives.”
“We aren’t friends.”
Sumner held my gaze evenly, unwaveringly, not intimidated in the slightest. “We could be.”
The waitress dropped off our waters, giving us a few more minutes to look over the menu. I hadn’t glanced at the array of foods they offered yet; I hadn’t even picked up the menu. It even looked sticky, as if it hadn’t been wiped down in days. Maybe I could get Sumner to recite some dishes for me so I wouldn’t have to touch it.
“Why…” I began, but trailed to a pause, unable to decipher his answer on my own. “Why do you want to be my friend? Why do you want to be more than just my secretary?”
“It’s like I said.” Sumner reached for his water. “When I first saw you, I couldn’t help but think how lonely you looked. You deserve to have someone around you who isn’t a shadow. Because… because I know what it’s like to feel alone in a room full of people. And no one should feel that way.”
Time, for a moment, seemed to slow as his words wound around in my head. I stared at him fromacross the booth, my pulse thudding loudly in my ears. If it were anyone else, I would’ve thought he was mocking me in some way, but Sumner seemed so… earnest. And I didn’t know how to feel. I needed to say something, to scoff at his words, but he’d rendered me speechless.
Sumner’s phone gave a little chime, which prompted him to pull it out and check the screen. I watched him while he did so, and took that moment to appraise him in this different—albeit grubbier—light. Although his clothes hinted at a former frat boy, he, admittedly, looked good in the loose shirt that’d been tucked into the band of his jeans. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been around someone who’d worn jeans, at least a pair that wasn’t designer. It gave him a very causal,normalair.
We probably looked funny sitting across from each other like this. I found myself enjoying the juxtaposition. Not that I’d ever admit it aloud.