Page 29

CHAPTER 29

EMILY

W hen I return back to the office, I’m stopped by Fran practically pouncing on me the second I walk past her office. She grabs me, tugs me into the room, and closes the door, her eyes frantically wide, smile threatening.

“What the hell was that?” she squeaks, evidently on the verge of losing her ever-loving shit. “Please tell me you went back to his car and… I don’t know… banged or at least gave him a handy.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Yes, actually I did.” I deadpan. “In fact, we didn’t even wait until we got back to his car. Just got right down to business on the corner of Madison and Forty-Ninth.”

Fran rolls her eyes, waving off my sarcasm. “So… tell me all the details.”

“Oh, my god, you’re as bad as my sister,” I mutter.

“I really need to meet this sister you keep telling me about.” She smirks deviously. “Something tells me we’d be immediate besties.”

I glance down at the salad in my hands that is by now no doubt soggy and gross, which is fine since I’ve totally lost my appetite .

“Hey—” Fran’s tone shifts from mischievous to serious, and when I look up at her again, she has one eye slightly narrowed, eyebrows knitting together. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

I glance sideways, looking out through the glass walls to the corridor, knowing that Andy is likely wondering where I am. I only get thirty-minutes for lunch, but I’ve been gone for almost forty.

“What are you doing after work?” I ask.

“Nothing.” She shakes her head. “Robbie leaves for Florida today and he’ll be gone for three nights.” She presses her lips together with a smile before saying, “But I have a feeling you already knew that.”

“Feel like going for an after-work wine?” I arch a brow.

“That depends…” She offers me a dubious look. “Are you going to tell me everything?”

I nod.

“Then yes !” Fran practically vibrates on the spot, clapping her hands together excitedly.

I bite back my smile, rolling my eyes and, with a wave, I step around her and walk out of her office.

When I enter my office, Andy’s door is wide open and I catch a glimpse of him sitting there at his computer. Knowing I’m technically late, I shuck my coat and hang it in the closet, quickly scurrying to my desk, but before I can sit, he calls my name, and a shiver runs through me. After what happened this morning, I’m seriously on edge, and I hate it.

Placing my things down, I take a deep, fortifying breath and turn, walking to his office. I stop in the door way, smiling when he looks up at me.

“Sorry I’m late,” I say before he can speak. “The line at Chopped was out the door.” It’s not a total lie because the lunch time line at Chopped usually is out the door.

“Oh, you’re fine.” He waves a dismissive hand. “I’m not a clock watcher, Emily. ”

I offer him a tight smile, still lingering in the doorway, waiting for direction.

“I just wanted to apologize for this morning,” he says, leaning back in his chair. “It wasn’t fair to put you in that position.”

“It’s okay,” I say as my mind flashes back to the way Dallas kissed me not ten minutes ago. As far as kisses go, that one, there in the parking lot, next to his Lamborghini, was possibly my best kiss yet—full of longing and yearning and promise, his grip on the back of my neck firm, holding me right where I was as his tongue plundered all I had to give. When he finally pulled away, muttering something about being late for his flight, the look in his eyes was imploring. He stared at me like he couldn’t bear to leave but knew he had to and was hoping I’ll be here when he gets back.

I swallow hard, continuing, “I understand why you had to do it.”

Andy considers me for a long moment, his gaze intense as he looks me up and down without saying a word. And, maybe I’m paranoid, but I can’t help but feel as if there’s something he wants to say, a flicker of doubt flashing in his eyes which is gone in an instant as his smile returns.

He goes back to his laptop, and I assume he doesn’t need anything more, so I turn on my heels to leave. But then he speaks. “Oh, Jenn wanted me to ask you if you’d like to join us for Shabbat on Friday.”

I spin around, but he’s not looking at me, focusing instead on whatever it is he’s tapping into his laptop.

“Oh…” I tuck my hair behind my ear, considering my response.

Andy’s gaze flits back to me, a knowing smile ghosting his lips. “Full disclosure—Simon will be there.”

Shit . I rack my brain with a possible response to decline. But I don’t want to be rude.

Andy quirks a brow. “I probably should’ve asked you this before Jenn went full Cupid, but you don’t have a boyfriend… do you?”

Yes. Yes, you do , my subconscious screams at me. For the record, I don’t. Dallas and I haven’t made anything official. I mean, how can we? Our entire relationship is a secret. But I’m not an idiot. I know there’s more to whatever it is we’re doing. I don’t want to be with anyone else. And Dallas has made himself pretty damn clear that he doesn’t either. But I can’t lie to Andy about having a boyfriend. What if he told me to bring him? I’d have to think of some other lie, and then it just becomes a big tangled web I won’t be able to control.

“No.” I shake my head. “I-I don’t have boyfriend.”

He looks up at me again, nodding once, and there’s that look in his eyes again. Almost as if he doesn’t quite believe me. I know I was paranoid earlier after what happened this morning but… does he know something?

“Is Simon your type? Because if you’re not interested, you can just let me know and I can tell Jenn to back off.” He smirks. “She has it in her mind that Simon needs to meet a nice lady to settle down with. Only she doesn’t trust him to find someone himself because every woman he’s ever been with, Jenn hasn’t been able to tolerate for longer than three minutes.” He rolls his eyes, shaking his head on a laugh.

I force a smile. “Um… I mean, he seemed… nice .”

Andy nods again, looking at his laptop. “Yeah, if only you didn’t have to leave early on Saturday night, maybe you could have gotten to know him a little better, huh?”

Fuck. Me.

His gaze lifts again, meeting mine, his smile casual.

“Yeah… I’m sorry about that.” I offer a sheepish smile. “But I’d love to come to Shabbat,” I lie as confidently as I can. “Thank you for inviting me. Can I bring anything?”

Andy stands then, waving his hand again. “No, Jenn’ll be offended.”

I smile, but then I see the Chopped salad carton sitting right there on his desk, and my stomach drops into the very pit of my ass.

Sweat beads the back of my neck as I watch Andy grab the empty salad carton and dump it into the waste basket by his desk. Pressing his lips together in a tight smile, he nods as he passes me and continues out of the office, leaving me frozen, barely even breathing.

After telling Fran everything—and I mean everything —I’m now wallowing into my third glass of wine, convinced Andy knows something, trying not to hyperventilate right here in the middle of the bar crowded with suited-up Madison Avenue corporate types.

Fran stares contemplatively at her own wine. “I bet he didn’t even go to Chopped. I mean, this is Andy we’re talking about. He puts a Teams message out each morning to see who’s doing a coffee run because he can’t be bothered even going down to the Starbucks in the lobby of our own building,” she scoffs exasperatedly. “You really think he went out, braved the lunch hour rush, crossed the street, walked two whole blocks, waited in line with us meager plebs, ordered and waited for his own salad? Come on now.” She shakes her head, lifting her glass and taking a sip.

I heave a sigh. She has a point. The only time Andy comes and goes from the office is in his shiny, chauffeur-driven town car. Andy isn’t really a people person. And he certainly doesn’t waste time waiting in lines like the rest of us mere mortals.

“Okay, so even if he wasn’t at Chopped, that’s not to say someone else from the office, or whoever went to get him his salad, didn’t see me with Dallas and then run straight back up to tell him.”

“Were you holding hands?” Fran asks. “Did he have his arm around you? Were you guys even touching at all? ”

I snort. “I made sure to keep at least a foot of space between us at all times.”

“See!” She throws a hand up in the air. “Even if someone did see you, what can they say? You were walking together? Scandalous !” She mock gasps, rolling her eyes. “I mean, Dallas is Andy’s client. What are we supposed to do if we see a client in public? Ignore them and run the other way?”

“No, you’re right,” I concede. “But there was something in Andy’s eyes when he looked at me, Fran…” I shake my head, thinking back to the moment in his office after lunch. “And his tone. When he mentioned me leaving the event early on Saturday night. And when he asked me if I had a boyfriend…”

Fran studies me for a long moment. “I bet it was just your imagination. And don’t forget, Andy’s totally that kid from high school. You know the one? The real dorky kid who never knew how to talk to girls and either came off as rude or weird. I think he’s basically that same kid, even now. Only he somehow managed to find a wife and popped out a couple of kids, and he wears three-thousand-dollar suits and gets off from yelling at grown men.”

I can’t help but laugh at her more than accurate description, but something still doesn’t feel right.

“Anyway, enough about Andy.” Fran leans in closer, elbows on the table, chin resting on her hands, big smile splitting her face. “I wanna hear more about you and Dallas,” she practically squeals.

“I’ve already told you everything,” I say, averting my gaze down to the table when I feel my cheeks heat. “We’re just… waiting it out.”

My phone shudders on the wooden tabletop, and I look down at it to see Dallas’s designated name lit up on the screen, my heart skipping in the best possible way.

“Aww, look at that smile!” Fran teases.

“Shut up,” I mutter on a laugh, shaking my head as I unlock the device and read the text message.

D: I just got to the hotel. We’re going out for a team dinner. I’ll call you later, but I needed to tell you that I meant what I said earlier, Goldie. You’re the girl for me. There is no one else. You’re it. I just hope you trust me.

“What did he say?” Fran whisper yells.

I briefly contemplate showing her the message. But I stop myself at the last second.

Me: I trust you.

Pressing send, I lock the screen and turn it face down, offering Fran nothing but a casual shrug of my shoulder. “Just that he got to the hotel and he’ll call me later.”

“Oh my god, you guys are too adorable.” Fran claps her hands together, eyes flitting toward the bar. “We need shots!”