Chapter Forty-Three

Annabel

“Any bites today?”

Cynthia comes into her sister’s apartment in high spirits. I am not in high spirits. My feet ache, and all I have to show for today is a little more wear on my shoes. No more golden opportunities seem to be out there in the city. That’s what it feels like.

“Not today,” I tell her with a sigh. Her sister will be home any minute now, so I need to find something to do. I can’t be the obnoxious extra roommate camped out on the sofa all hours of the day and night. “I went out three separate times. Nothing.”

Cynthia drops her purse on the floor and sinks down on the couch next to me. “I have to say,” she says, looking at the British cooking show I’m about to pause, “you don’t seem . . . okay.”

I give her a giant, exaggerated grin. “What about me doesn’t seem okay? I’m doing all the right things. I go out looking for jobs. I’m busy charming people all over the city.”

She laughs, but then her expression turns serious. “You keep acting like this is about a job, Annabel, but that’s not what you said on the phone a week ago.” She’s right about that. Once I was actually in her sister Daphne’s apartment, I didn’t want to talk about Beau. I had zero interest in mentioning Beau’s name. How was I going to explain that? I fell in love with an incredibly rich and handsome man outside his hotel, and then he broke up with me because I’m too flighty? No. Cynthia might have no choice but to agree with him.

I wave my hand in the air exaggeratedly. “The rest of it doesn’t matter. I was still drunk and being dramatic.”

“You weren’t that drunk.”

“I wish I was drunk now,” I tease. “Is it time to crack open a bottle of wine yet?”

Cynthia leans back against the sofa with a groan. “It’s been time for that since noon.” She sits up and opens her eyes. “But seriously, Annabel, you don’t seem okay. Is there anything I can do?” She gives me a long look. “I’m on your side.”

I don’t have a joke to make in response to that. In fact, it makes me choked up to hear it. Instead of bursting into tears, I let out a heavy sigh. “Cynth, it’s—the whole thing was a mistake from the beginning.”

She rests her chin in her hand. “You never told me about the beginning. The ceiling caved in—”

“God, that ceiling . . .”

“And the next thing I knew, you had a free room at the Pearl for your job. Nobody gets a free room for that long.”

“The free room was because I met someone who did me a favor.”

“A man who did you a favor?”

Heat rises to my cheeks at the memory of his arms around my waist, yanking me back from the path of that bike. It seems like a million years ago now. It seems like he shouldn’t have bothered. If he hadn’t touched me, I wouldn’t know now what I was missing.

“Yes. His name is Beau Bennett.” The shape of his name in my mouth makes my heart ache.

Cynthia’s eyes go wide. “Beau Bennett—as in the Beau Bennett who owns the Pearl and a lot of other properties in the city besides? That Beau Bennett?”

“That’s the one.”

She reaches out and slaps my shoulder. “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me you were sleeping with Beau Bennett!”

“Ouch.” I make a face and rub my shoulder. “Wait—how do you know him? And who says I was sleeping with him?”

Cynthia rolls her eyes. “You were living in a free hotel room. At his hotel. For, I don’t know, at least two weeks. There’s no way you two weren’t into each other.”

“It was actually a suite.”

My friend laughs out loud. “See? I was right.”

I bite my lip, but I can’t stop myself from thinking about him now. I can’t shove him to the edges of my mind. The line of his jaw, his head against the pillow, riding him…these things consume me. The strength of his hands on my hips, between my legs . . .

I shake my head. “What’s your connection to him?”

“Sometimes I moonlight as a marketing assistant for the bank,” she says, looking shy. “We partner with an advertising firm, so I’ve tagged along on a few meetings. His company uses the same firm.”

“You saw him there?”

“I saw his picture.” She sighs. “Notable clients and all that. He’s hot.”

My chest caves in a little more. “Yeah. I can’t argue that point.”

“What happened?” Cynthia’s eyes go dark. “He kicked you out of the Pearl?”

“No.” I don’t want to talk about this, but Cynthia and her sister are doing me a hundred favors a day letting me live with them. There’s got to be something I can give her. Maybe if I admit it out loud, I’ll be able to get over him. “We had an argument, and he accused me of never wanting to commit to anything. So I left. After that I didn’t want to go back to the Pearl—what?”

Cynthia is grinning. “You don’t want to commit to anything.”

I start to stand up. “I knew you’d say that.”

She grabs at my elbow. “Annabel, wait. That’s not what I meant.” I sit back down because it’s exhausting to stand. “You’re heartbroken. I can see that.” Cynthia bites her lip. “Is there nothing you can do to fix this?”

“In terms of what?” I try to put a lighter spin on it, since I’m the one who nearly stormed away. “Wine? You want to get some wine?”

“Getting back together,” she says softly. “Or at least . . . talking to him one more time?”

My throat clenches so tightly it hurts. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Okay.” She glances down at her hands. “What about that job you told me about? Have you followed up?”

“No.” I sigh, letting my head fall back on the sofa. “I could leave town. Start over. It’s about time.”

“Don’t do that,” Cynthia says briskly, standing up and hustling toward the kitchen. “Call that company back. I’ll open a bottle. We can get you through this.” She goes through the door, then pokes her head back out. “Don’t leave unless it’s on your own terms. You know?”

I know.