5. Claire

CHAPTER 5

CLAIRE

V erity leaned forward, smiling at Conrad. "Okay, I have to ask: how did you two meet?"

Conrad glanced my way. I kicked him under the table. To his credit, he didn't flinch. He took my hand and held it in both of his.

"Well, as you know, we first met in college. I'd see her around, but she always looked busy, always with her laptop, tapping away. And she'd have her headphones on, and we all know what that means."

"Do not disturb," said Ken.

"But you did anyway? Brave!" Verity reached for her wine glass and found it empty. Ken refilled it from the bottle, and she took a sip. Conrad squeezed my hand, then kissed my knuckles.

"I didn't," he said. "I respected her hustle. I could see she was working, not shopping or chatting. She was on a mission, so I gave her her space. But then I heard about this project…" He smiled, wide and wicked. "I found out ahead of time we'd be working in pairs, so I went to the professor and I asked for Claire. I told him, I said to him, she's the smartest there is. And I need to ace this class, so I need the smartest."

I gaped at Conrad, dumbstruck. Was that true? Had he rigged it? No — no, of course not. He'd had no cause. Unless he had done it to secure his grade. If he'd done it to get close to me, we would have kissed. This would be real right now, instead of some fiction.

"I was livid at first," I said, playing along. "I thought Conrad would be the worst partner ever, typical alpha, demanding we do things his way. But it actually ended up being amazing. He had good ideas, and he made mine better. We made a great team, and then, well… much more."

It was Conrad's turn to blink in surprise. I trod on his foot again and he cleared his throat.

"Our first date was our prize," he said. "Two VIP tickets to the Manhattan Startup Symposium. We had our first kiss by moonlight outside." His expression went distant, a sweet, gentle smile. "I still remember, they had cherry trees. The petals were everywhere, caught in her hair. I reached up to get one—" He plucked at my hair, then stroked it softly. I leaned in without thinking and turned my face to his palm.

"And look at you, lovebirds, still to this day!" Verity raised her glass. "Here, to the lovebirds."

We clinked. Conrad beamed. I gulped my wine. It had been almond blossoms that night, not cherry, but other than that, he'd called up every detail. The moon in our eyes. The drifting petals. That moment I thought he would bend down and kiss me. If he had, if he'd done it, where would we be? Had he wanted to do it? Had it hurt to hold back?

"It's so easy to be with her." Conrad slid his hand over mine again. "Like a best friend."

"Like me and Ken." Verity sighed happily and leaned on his shoulder. "He works harder than I do. Do you know he's a vet? People call him at all hours, scared for their pets, and he always says the same thing, ‘I'll be right over.' The same words he said to me, and I fell in love."

"She got tonsillitis right before our first date." Ken shook his head and frowned down at his plate. "She sounded so devastated when she called to cancel — at least, as far as I could hear her, the way she was croaking. What could I do besides bring her some ice cream?"

A sudden memory surfaced, pricking my eyes with tears. I blinked them back quickly, feeling foolish. I'd ducked out on Conrad once, on one of our plus-one dates — I'd had a bad oyster and needed to go home. By the time Conrad found out, I was mostly better, but he'd showed up anyway with a whole stack of romcoms. "Comfort viewing," he'd called them. It wasn't that he'd brought them that made me choke up, but that he knew me so well. He knew what to bring.

He'd offered to stay that night, but I hadn't let him, partly because my stomach was still feeling queasy. But mostly, I hadn't wanted to know how it felt, having someone who'd sit with me through the rough times. I didn't have time for that, and neither did Conrad. Why tease ourselves with a glimpse of what could never be?

"Ooh, ooh, a waltz!" Verity's delighted exclamation blew through my nostalgia. A chamber orchestra had struck up, and couples were taking to the dance floor. "We should dance," she said. "You two do dance, right?"

"Of course," said Conrad. "Claire's a wonderful dancer, and I somehow keep up." He was being generous — he danced better than I did. But I took his offered hand and we headed onto the dance floor. Conrad leaned close to whisper.

"We're doing great. Just dessert now, then coffee, and you can relax."

His comforting words took the edge off my nerves. My shoulders went loose as he set his hands on them, then let his left hand slide down to my hip. We clasped our right hands together and he waltzed me across the dance floor, our feet fitting neatly to the three-quarter beat. Verity winked over at us, and I winked back. Then Ken spun her off and we spun the other way, and I let Conrad guide me through the simple steps.

"Don't look over there," he said, as he dipped me. "Look at me, yeah. It's just us dancing."

It wasn't just us, but somehow it felt true. We pressed up cheek to cheek, then I spun out so he'd catch me, and when he did, I felt safe in his arms. Conrad was here for me. He wouldn't let me flounder. He'd never let me down yet, and I could trust him.

The music died down, and then it picked up. Conrad's eyes sparkled.

"Do I hear a tango?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Oh, I think I do." He jerked me close, almost roughly. "What's the matter? You scared?"

"Scared you'll step on my toes." I spun on my heel. Conrad gripped my hand tight. He drew me closer, my back to his chest. I could feel his heart beating, his breath on my neck.

"Do you trust me?" he murmured.

I nodded yes.

He flung me away from him, across the dance floor. Our linked arms went taut and I leaned back, back arched. I drew up my knee and Conrad whirled me back in. He pirouetted me, dizzy, into his arms, then lifted me, spun me, and set me back on my feet. I hung in place for a moment, catching my breath, then he dipped me straight back till my hair swept the floor. He pulled me back up and we tore across the dance floor, Conrad half-chasing me as I teased him, spinning and stepping just out of reach.

Then I ran out of dance floor and he had me again, and we danced with our bodies a hair's breadth apart, the palms of his hands tracing the length of my body. He never quite touched me, but I still felt the heat, felt a shiver run through me as he near-grazed my hips.

"Conrad," I gasped. The music hit a crescendo. He lifted me bodily, my belly pressed to his chest. I stretched out my arms as though to take flight, kicked up one leg as he spun us around. He held me up, weightless, as the dance reached its peak, then dipped me one last time, leaned over, and?—

Was this?

Would he kiss me?

His lips were so close, his hair in my face. His hands strong and firm, holding me in place. I closed my eyes without thinking and Conrad pulled me up, clasping me to him as applause filled the air. A hot flush swept through me as I realized it was for us.

"She's clapping," purred Conrad, low in my ear. "I think we've got her."

I couldn't speak, couldn't catch my breath. I clung to him, panting, and waited for my head to stop spinning. Soon, he was guiding me back to our table.

"You weren't kidding," gushed Verity. "You two were amazing. Where did you learn to dance like that?"

I blurted "Cotillion" as Conrad said "Our third date." We stared at each other, and Ken burst out laughing.

"I guess you're still learning new things about each other."

"I guess so," said Conrad, recovering quickly. "I completely forgot she was a debutante."

"He's still partly right, though, about the tango. We didn't do that in my cotillion classes."

We all shared a laugh at that, but my nerves were back. We'd squeaked by so far on twelve years of friendship, but at the heart of it, our romance was a lie. Sooner or later, we'd slip up for real, mess up in a way we couldn't come back from.

"That's worn me out," I said. "We should turn in soon."

"Not before dessert, surely." Verity waved for our waiter. "Could we see the dessert cart? Those cakes looked delicious."

I subsided, trapped, but how long could dessert take? As long as nobody ordered the chocolate soufflé.

"I'm pretty full," said Conrad, and squeezed my hand under the table. "I'll just get a slice of the Black Forest cake."

"Me too," I said. "Make it a sliver." I held my thumb and forefinger together to indicate a thin slice.

"That does look delicious," said Verity. She winked at Ken. "How about we split a slice? And let's have some coffee."

I sagged with relief: we were nearly home free. Soon, we'd be up in our ocean-view suites, catching a quick nap before an early departure. By the time Verity stirred herself, we'd be above the clouds, just Conrad and Claire again. Separate people. The worst would be over, and I would be in.

"We'll have to get together back in New York," said Ken. "It's hard to find other couples as fun as you two. You don't happen to play tennis?"

I choked on my coffee.

"We do," said Conrad, patting my back. "Though, we hardly have time these days, with— you okay?"

I gulped more coffee to quiet my coughing. "I'm good," I said. "And, yeah, we love tennis, but Conrad's just moved his campus. He's got workers coming and going, new hires, new departments."

"And you, with Timeless! You're such a power couple." Verity beamed at us. "Don't worry, we're not those people, like a burr on your butt, always calling and texting to get together. We're busy too, but let's play some time."

I nodded, relaxing. "Some time, for sure."

Conrad finished his cake and leaned back with a sigh. "That was delicious. I'm stuffed like a turkey."

"Me too," I said, taking his cue. "Couldn't fit in another bite if I tried."

"We should probably?—"

"Excuse me." The head waiter was tapping a glass. "Excuse me, I'm sorry. Could I have everyone's attention, just for a moment?"

Verity leaned over to give Ken a nudge. "Wonder who's double parked?"

Ken chuckled and kissed her.

"I'm sorry," said the waiter, when the murmurs had died down. "I know a lot of you were here for the summit, planning on flying out tonight or tomorrow. Unfortunately, we've just received word of a storm, uh…" He checked his phone, frowned, and slipped it into his pocket. "Tropical Storm Henrietta is veering off course. It's on course to hit us around midnight tonight. As a result, all flights are grounded, and will remain grounded until further notice."

A chorus of groans went up. My stomach turned over. The waiter held his hands up and flapped them for silence.

"We'll accommodate you," he called, over the uproar. "Anyone missing a flight on account of the storm, we'll comp your room till they can rebook you."

Conrad leaned in. "I'll get us out. Private flights should be fine."

I barely heard him, staring out past the waiter. The tropical sky was wide, clear, and perfect, hung with a jewel-bright scatter of stars. Maybe the storm wouldn't hit after all. Or it would blow itself out and barely touch us. Our flight would be back on. We'd get out as planned.

Verity had been frowning, but she nudged Ken and smiled. "An extra day or two wouldn't be the worst thing."

He kissed her nose. "True. They've got tennis courts here."

Sunny's damn jinx text flashed through my head, the one about us being stuck in a romcom. The work thing gets canceled and OMG! THEY KISS!

I turned to Conrad and felt my face redden.

OMG was right. OMFG .