Page 22 of That Friendzone Feeling

Andboy, doesChaselook like he’d like to see her first thing in the morning.

Afterholding onto her hand for a smidge longer than necessary, he finally lets go. “Icouldn’t be more pleased to be here.”

Irise from my chair and try to get into at least his peripheral vision. “Hi,Chase,I’mWalker.”

“Hey,”Chasesays, taking my hand in both of his like we’re old buddies.

Ilook past him into the hallway—he’s bound to have an entourage with him.Thesepeople can’t do anything for themselves.Ibet someone follows him around, ready to hand him a tissue the moment he shows the first sign of a sneeze.

“Areyour people downstairs?”Iask him.

“Oh,I’mnot into the whole ‘people’ thing,” he says as if it’s an absurd idea. “Icame alone.Hoppedin a cab.”

Hmm.Guesshe keeps up the schtick of being just an ordinary guy in business meetings as well asTVinterviews.

“Acab?”Iask. “Youmean a car with a driver?NotaYellowCab, right?”

“Nope,” he smiles. “AYellowCab.Easierand quicker.”

Huh.

“I’msure you’re under some time pressure,”Emilysays, rubbing her hands together. “So, let’s give you a tour of the pub.Thisone is our flagship.Itonly opened just beforeChristmas.Thenwe can sit down and run you through how the rest of the business works, the plans for the resort, and how it’s coming along.”

I’mpretty sure his eyes were fixed on her lips the whole time she was talking.

“Perfect,” he says, stepping back soEmilycan lead the way.

Andpresumably so he can look at her ass.

Oh, yes.Therewe go.Eyesstraight to ass.

Dick.

Exceptfirst impressions are that he’s not a dick.Heseems perfectly normal and nice.Asfar as bajillionaire movie stars go, anyway.Andas far as you can tell in the first five minutes.

Sowhy amIconsumed with territorial feelings aboutEmily?She’snot mine.Andnever will be.Ijust want the best for her.Butright now, allIwant to do is scoop her up, drag her away from this perfectly nice, handsome, talented, wealthy man, and tell him to fuck off.

Buthe’s also one of a limited number of options—that number being one—who might be able to dig us out of this unholy financial mess.

Ifollow him andEmilydown the stairs, trailing behind like a spare part while they chatter and laugh aboutNewYorktraffic and how the cab driver was overly concerned about dropping him off at a pub before opening time.

Weturn into the main room andEmilydoes a twirl, her arms outstretched. “Andhere we are.Thebiggest and best in our growing chain.”

“It’sa stunning room,”Chasesays, looking up at the beamed, vaulted ceiling. “Usinga historic building like this, that’s lived a previous life, brings a real soul to a place.”

IwishIcould roll my eyes at that comment, but it’s the exact reasonIlive in an 1800s sugar warehouse and why we’ve converted old buildings for every one of our pubs rather than build new ones.

“Yes, look at this.”EmilytakesChaseby the elbow, leads him into the middle of the room, and points up at the fattest beam. “Seethose holes?Whenthis was a printing factory, there were hooks there where large prints were hung up to dry.”

I’mpretty sure she just made that up.I’vecertainly never heard that story about those holes before.Shelooks like she’s telling him stone cold facts, though.Thiswoman knows how to do a deal.

We’vealways said we’re the perfect combination of business brain and meticulous brewer, that together we aregreater than the sum of our parts.LikeLennonandMcCartney, peanut butter and jelly, barley and hops.Orher lips and my lips.

Holyshit,Ihave to stop those thoughts.It’sa tough task, though, whenMr.Wonderfullooks like he might sweep her off her feet any second.

Soperhaps she’s not as starry-eyed and agog at the megastar as she seems.Tobe fair, she treats everyone we work with as if they’re the most amazing and important person she’s ever met.Frominvestors like this guy toMarthaandStanley, who do our cleaning.It’sjust the way she is.

Hedoes seem to be instantly smitten with her, though.Hebarely managed to tear his eyes off her for a nanosecond to look at the hook holes.