Page 27 of That Friendzone Feeling

Myfingers, toes, and tip of my nose remain ice cold while the rest of my body feels likeI’vejumped into the fireplace.

“Sorry,”Isay, straightening. “Thatwas an inappropriate reaction.”

HowcouldIlet this happen?Ican’t be stranded without access to the documentsIneed to make my pitch.I’venever done anything like this before, yet hereIam, fucking up the most important, make-or-break meeting of my life.

Thiswould be like my sister showing up for a concert and there not being a piano.Which—I’msure my parents would be the first to remind me—would never happen.

Ihave to stop my brain from spiraling out of control.Ihave to get a grip.Ihave to figure out how to save this.

“Areyou okay?”Chaseasks, stepping toward me, concerned. “Youlook a bit pale.”

Igrab my phone from my purse. “Oh, yes, totally fine.”Hopefullythat sounds all casual and breezy and not even remotely panic-stricken. “Ijust need to callLeon.Gethimto grab a power cord from the office and send it over in a cab.”

Chasepicks up my glass. “Oh, don’t worry about that.”Hemoves to the sofa, puts both glasses on the coffee table, sits, and nods to the empty space beside him. “I’llprobably get a better feel for it if you talk me through it informally anyway.”

“Oh, but there are photos.Greatphotos.Andplans.Andrenderings.Andvideos.”Myshaking finger taps onLeon’sname. “Youreally need to see them.”

“It’sfine.Youcan email them to me later when you get home and can plug in.”

Leonpicks up.

“Hey,Leon.”Yup, this is a super-non-urgent call and not even remotely a potentially career-shattering emergency. “Couldyou do me a quick favor?”

“Honestly,”Chasesays. “I’dtruly prefer you just tell me about it.Itwould be more fun.”

Shit.Howthe hell do you sell someone on a resort when you can’t show them the plans or designs or pictures of the site?Buthe’s smiling and interested, and it seems to be what he wants.Andthe last thingIneed is to make things even worse by not doing what he wants.

“Emily?”Leonsays over the background noise of the bar. “Areyou still there?Didyou need something?”

“Actually, it’s fine.”Itell him. “Notto worry.Sorryto bother you.”

Ihang up and giveChasea resigned smile. “Okay, if you insist.”

Idrop into one of the chairs.Turnsout, it’s way squishier than it looks, andIsink deeper thanIexpected.Mydress slides up my thighs, andIclutch at the wrap-overneckline as it teeters on the brink of a wardrobe malfunction.Oh, how very fucking elegant.

Iscooch forward, perch on the edge with a poker-straight back, and adjust my attire to make myself decent.

“Okay,”Itell him. “JustimagineI’mshowing you a beautiful 3D computer-generated rendering of an aerial view of a small island offCapeCod.There’sa spectacular coastline, an adorable picture-perfect village at one end, and an amazing resort at the other.”

Chaseleans back, places his left ankle on his right knee, one arm along the back of the sofa, and closes his eyes.

“Hmmm,” he says. “Ican see it now.”

It’simpossible not to take the opportunity to grab an eyeful.Imean how many good guys also look this good?

Hiseyes pop open. “Youcan carry on, if you like.”

“Sorry, yes.”

Hesips his wine and looks at me likeI’mthe most enchanting thing he’s ever seen in his life.Butthat’s what all theseHollywoodtypes do, right?Theremust be some sort of movie star school they all go to that teaches them how to make every person they talk to feel like they’re the most important person in the world.

Andright now,Ihave to act as ifIam.

9

EMILY

Ipause for breath.