Chapter 45

45

She’s waiting for me inside a booth, her eyes the darkest shade of midnight blue I’ve ever seen, but there’s a softness in them too. That vulnerability she shares with me.

I can’t let it draw me in. Can’t let it distract me more than it already has.

“Hey,” she says, and the sweetness in her tone nearly does me in. I don’t want sweetness right now. Don’t deserve it, can’t give it, and haven’t a clue what to do with it. I’m a snake, coiled tight, ready to strike at the next thing that shakes my world.

I don’t kiss her hello. I’ll cave if I touch her. I’ll haul her in for a searing kiss to blot out the misery churning in my gut.

“Hi.” It comes out tight, clipped.

The second I sit, she blurts out, “The investment deal fell through.”

I blink in surprise. “It did? Why?”

She takes a fueling breath. “The partners weren’t in love with my concept, I guess. I can’t figure out why. His e-mail was so . . . bland. It was a thanks, but no thanks . And I thought I’d done a great job with the pitch.” She takes a long breath, then holds up her palms, giving a what can you do smile. “That’s how it goes. It happens. Right?”

I blow out a long sigh of frustration, and I’m pretty sure good manners dictate that I ask her how she’s feeling about it, what she wants to do next, but misery loves company, so I serve up my side dish. “I’m in the same boat. My guest spot is gone. Ryder doesn’t need me anymore.”

Her expression transforms in a heartbeat. The sadness vanishes. She’s Fierce Truly now, her eyes narrowed. “Are you serious?”

“Unfortunately, I am.”

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the best thing to happen to that show.” And now she’s Defender Truly, and that’s damn tempting too.

Except temptation put me here, and I’d be wise to remember that. “I appreciate that, but he doesn’t see it that way.”

“He’s wrong.” She stabs the table with her finger. “Dead wrong. You know that, right?”

“No, I don’t know that.” I slump back in the booth, dragging a hand through my hair.

“You should, because you’re terrific.”

“Thanks, but it doesn’t really matter, does it?” I ask, more briskly than I’d like. “And I think what stings the most is I knew I wasn’t getting the full-time gig. I was fine with that, accepted it. But I thought this one was safe. Turns out that’s not the case. Guess I was wrong on that count too.”

“There will be other opportunities, Jason.” She sets her hands on the table, then makes a move like she’s going to reach for mine. But I don’t know what to do with kindness right now. I don’t know that I can handle it.

I keep my hands in my lap.

“Maybe,” I mutter.

“There will be. But I know you wanted this one, I know you were counting on it. I’m sorry.” She sets her hands in her lap, smiling sympathetically, and I hate that. But I also love it. I love it a lot—the way she cares, the way she wants to make me feel better. For a few seconds, I nearly cave. Because it’s comforting to have someone who understands.

I could join her on her side of the booth, kiss her hard, kiss away all my frustration. Hell, I bet we could fuck it away, and I’d be fine.

But the trouble is, I’d be in the same position after a roll in the hay. Besotted with her, instead of work. And I’m pretty damn sure that’s part of the problem.

Rather, that is the problem.

I swallow harshly, scrubbing my hand across the back of my neck. “I’m not at the top of my game. That’s the trouble.” I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the inevitable. “I think that falling in love is absolutely fucking distracting and ruining everything we’ve built.”

“What?” She flinches, shirking back like my statement didn’t compute.

But it makes as much sense as two plus two. This is easy math, even if I don’t like the answer.

“This seems proof of it, don’t you think? Love, feelings, all that stuff—it’s utterly distracting. It’s causing both of us to lose sight of our goals.”

She’s a mixologist—she ought to know. Add love to the cocktail mix of good sex, and what do you get? A drink that makes you lose your mind.

I’ve seen what love leads to. Seen how it makes you a fool. Witnessed how a man can end up with nothing when he chases it.

“It can be distracting, but it can also maybe be something . . .” Her voice rises like she’s waiting for me to fill in the answer. Hoping for me to color it in.

There’s no room in me for vulnerability. Emotions have been my foe, and letting them become a bedfellow was what brought me to the place where my business is falling apart.

She’s still looking, waiting for a word to fill in the blank, and so I give it to her. “Something like a problem. That’s what you were saying? It can be a massive boulder careening toward you, ready to crush you. You take your eye off of responsibilities. Off the prize. You start making mistakes. Don’t you see it? Obviously, it’s happening to both of us. You and your deal, me and my job.”

She’s silent for several long beats.

“Right?” I push.

She purses her lips.

“I mean, what else could it be?”

A long breath, and at last she answers, her voice crisp. “You’re right. We were crazy to think anything else. We should do what we’ve always done—be friends.”

Relief surges through me. “Exactly. That’s what I’m saying. Before we muck that up too. We still have time to go back. And it’ll all be fine. I can focus on business; you can focus on business. That’s what we both wanted to do all along.”

She offers a smile, then says, “I agree.”

Yes, she sees the wisdom of it. She’s a smart woman—I knew she would.

She laughs and waves like she’s dismissing the madness of the last few nights. “You’re so right. Love. Pssh. What is that? Silly distraction.”

“Thank you. I knew you’d feel the same way. Two workaholics, right?” I say with a wry grin.

She nods savagely, biting out a response. “Absolutely.”

“So, listen. I’ll finish paying off my sister’s school. Wrap up my best man jobs, devote more time to the Modern Gentleman. And you can go full speed ahead with finding another investor for the pub. Once we get all that sorted, we’ll see where we are. How’s that sound? Because it sounds fucking brilliant to me.”

She smiles so big and broadly, I bet it hurts. “Yes, that’s obviously the way to go.”

I breathe a massive sigh. “I’m so glad we’re in agreement.”

“Me too.”

The bell above the door rings, and when I jerk my gaze in that direction, Malone’s walking in.

“What should we tell him?”

“The truth. Since we’re not together, it shouldn’t be a big deal.”

“Exactly. No big deal whatsoever.”

“What’s wrong with the two of you? You look like someone told you that you have to eat bacon for the rest of your lives.”

Truly gives a forced laugh. “That does seem like quite a jail sentence.”

He smiles and studies us curiously. “I feel like I should order bacon just to drive you crazy.”

“I’m not ready for that kind of punishment,” I quip, feeling pretty good about how Truly and I just worked that out like adults. And about how now we can have lunch with her brother. Like adults. And we can all make jokes. Like adults.

Malone glances at me then at his twin. “All right. I’m ready for your confession. You guys asked for this meeting. Let me guess—you’re finally going to tell me you’re into each other. I’m shocked. Absolutely shocked.”

Wow. Nick called that one. From ten miles away. Still, that’s not what this lunch is about.

“Yes, that’s what I want to tell you,” I say, keeping it professional and straightforward. “Truly and I were involved briefly, but we’re not going to be involved anymore. We’re staying friends. We both agreed to it. It’ll be great.”

“It was mutual,” Truly chimes in, cool, calm, and rational. More proof that this decision is the right one. “We had a thing. It happened a couple of times. But we’re just not at the place in our careers where we can date each other. We’re still good friends, and we wanted to assure you of that, because we don’t expect any weirdness.”

My God, she sounds so on top of this. She’s a brilliant businesswoman, unperturbed by blips.

“If you’re back on the friendship train, why are you telling me retroactively?”

I jump in. “We wanted to be up front because we were involved behind your back for a little bit.”

Malone snickers. “You make it sound like I’m the wronged spouse. I’m your friend, dickhead. Not your wife.”

Truly reaches out her hand and clasps her brother’s. “You and I had an agreement. We had a pact, and I don’t want to do anything to ruin your friendship with Jason, so we wanted to be straightforward, even though we’re not together. And we’re completely fine not being together.”

Malone holds up his hands to slow this conversational train. “Wait. Are you two breaking up because you think it bothers me? Because it doesn’t, and I would also never tell either one of you not to be involved with each other. Not my place, not my role.”

Truly is intense when she answers. “I’m telling you because after what happened with Sarah, we made a deal that friends were off-limits.”

He sighs, his voice softening. “Truly, we made that deal when we were twenty-one or twenty-two. We’re thirty-five now. And Sarah was a lunatic, if you ask me. I know it hurt to lose her, and I’m not belittling that, but I don’t want some pact we made well over a decade ago to keep you from happiness.”

“I’m happy. I swear. So happy. So totally happy. Work makes me happy. It’s all good. Who has time for relationships anyway?” she says, laughing, underscoring my point—she’s on the same page, and she’s obviously ecstatic. Hell, she said she was happy four times.

Malone raises his hand. “I do. A lot of people do.”

She pats his shoulder. “And that’s great. But we’re in a different spot. The timing simply isn’t right.”

“The timing is rubbish,” I second, because how can he not get it? We’re doing the right thing here—being honest, being up front, and letting go of something that’s too distracting.

He leans back in the booth. “Let me see if I have this straight. You like each other. You’ve been involved, like we all thought you would be. But you’re not going to be involved with each other anymore because of”—he coughs like he can’t quite believe what we’re saying—“ timing ?”

But speaking of timing, I have work to do, so I cut in. “Listen, I’m glad you’re not pissed. You are truly a prince among men. But the reality is, Truly and I are fine with this decision. We both agreed to concentrate on growing our businesses.”

Malone nods like he has a surplus of them to dish out. “Right. Yeah. Growing your business is definitely the most important thing in life.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Do I detect a note of sarcasm?”

“You should detect about fifty thousand notes of sarcasm. Because the two of you are idiots if that’s the reason you’re not together.”

I jerk my gaze to him, staring sharply. “You want us to be involved?”

“If you like each other, you should be together. It’s really that simple. I’m not the barrier you might have thought I was. I’m also absolutely not surprised you’re in love. The two of you have acted like a couple for the longest time, and it has never bothered me. In fact, I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner.” He points to me, then to his sister. “But what does surprise me is how you’re both so goddamn stubborn and ridiculous. I can’t believe you’re claiming that timing is the reason you’re splitting up.”

Truly lifts her chin, clearing her throat. “It makes perfect sense for Jason. For me too. And right now, what makes perfect sense is enjoying a chicken sandwich and french fries. Let’s do that.”

With that slice of the knife, Truly ends the conversation.

When the check arrives, Malone lunges for it then says, “What I’d most like to do is bang your heads together, but all that would come out is hot air and a bunch of canned responses about work, work, work. So instead I’ll leave you with this: hope you enjoy curling up with your job tonight.”

When we’re through, I’m so damn relieved to get the hell out of there, because he just doesn’t get it.