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Room Service by Summer Cooper (31)

Chapter Three

“So what are you going to do?” Jane asked. She munched contemplatively on a French fry as she watched.

“What about?” I dipped a piece of sushi in soy sauce and chewed. Sometimes I missed the green openness of upstate New York, where I’d grown up, but easy access to sushi and good coffee more than made up for that.

“About them.”

“Well…not much. I mean, there isn’t much I need to do.” I mentally plotted out the next day and a half. “I’ve worked it out so they’ll only be in the same place at the same time for about two hours, and they really have been behaving themselves.”

“Not about that,” Jane said, around a mouthful of sandwich. She swallowed and looked at me curiously. “Wait, do you actually not see it?”

“See what?” Alarm bells went off in my head. I looked around. “What did they do?” My head was filled with images of the two men throwing printer paper and expletives at each other.

“They’re both interested in you,” Jane said slowly, as if speaking to the very stupid. “And you’re interested in both of them.”

“What? No.”

“Okay, I’ve worked with you for two years. I remember when you were going out with Mark and you thought he was The One and you were going to end up in the suburbs together, and I remember James, too, and how the two of you couldn’t keep your hands off each other.”

“Mmm.” I smiled dreamily. James and I hadn’t been very compatible, but he’d been the perfect rebound guy from staid, stuffy, manipulative Mark, who wanted me to lose weight but not, apparently, to be sexy so that other people noticed. James and I, at least, had ended on good terms—and every once in a while when we weren’t seeing anyone, we met up for drinks. “Wait, what’s your point, though?”

“My point is, I’ve seen you when you were picturing the future with someone, and I’ve seen you when you had chemistry with someone, and these guys? Have both things going for them.”

“Which guy?”

“That’s what I’m telling you: both of them.” She raised her eyebrows. “So what’re you going to do?”

“Okay, first of all…” I pointed a chopstick at her. “You are way off. I don’t feel that way about them.”

“Uh-huh.” She took a big bite of her sandwich and gave me a look that said she didn’t believe me in the slightest.

“I don’t!”

“Sure, okay. Well, you haven’t had a date in two months anyway. Isn’t that reason enough to go out for a fun time? I mean, you’re laughing and joking with them, it’s not like you’d have a bad time.”

“That’s the other thing. They’re not interested in me.”

“You’re wrong.” Jane picked the tomato out of her sandwich and took another bite.

“No, I’m not. Rich guys don’t go for women like me.”

“What does that even mean?”

“Jane, look at me.”

“What?” Jane complied. Then she put down her sandwich and took a deep breath. “April, please don’t tell me people are getting to you.”

“No one’s getting to me. I’m perfectly happy with how I look.” I stabbed at another piece of sushi moodily. “I’m just being realistic.”

“No, you aren’t.” She reached out to touch my hand lightly. “Before I met you, do you know what kind of underwear I wore?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Just listen.” Jane wiped her hands on her napkin and looked away. “I bought in, April. All of my underwear was this cheap ugly stuff that I hated. And I bought it because I hated me. I got up and looked in the mirror and all I could see was that extra pound here, that extra pound there. I was buying in, I didn’t think I had any worth unless I could be someone else’s idea of perfect. And now I know you. April, you’re one of the strongest, most self-assured, wonderful, gorgeous women I know. You taught me that it was okay to wear pretty clothes and fancy underwear because I wanted to and it made me happy. And it really hurts to see that you’re doubting yourself now, because you’re the one who taught me that it’s not about that. You can tell me it’s just realistic, but the fact is, until you think you can get what you actually want, you’re still letting the rest of those jerks get to you.”

I stared at her, dumbfounded. This was about the most words I had ever heard Jane say at one time. When had it all turned out, and she’d become the wise one and I’d become the timid one? I grimaced down at the table.

“You want them, don’t you?” Jane asked.

“Yeah,” I said morosely.

“And they both like you. I’m telling you, it’s true. So you can fall back on some tired old stereotype that no one’s ever going to love you for you, or you can accept what you’re seeing and go for what will make you happy.” She bit her lip and gave me a smile that was just the tiniest bit wicked. “I mean, come on, you’re choosing between two gorgeous billionaires. Live the fantasy, April. Take it while it’s here.”

I laughed.

“I don’t want to choose, though.”

“What?” her eyes widened.

What had I meant by that? It just came out. I shrugged.

“Messy conversations, blah blah blah.”

“Okay, so go on dates with both of them. They don’t have to know.”

“How many beers have you had?”

“Just the one.”

I laughed, and heard my phone buzz. This dinner had been just what I needed after the past couple of days. Pulling my phone out, I raised my eyebrows.

“What?” Jane asked me.

“It’s not a big deal, there’s just that meeting tomorrow and Dave wants the documents for it. I need to go run them over.”

“And have a date while you’re there,” Jane said, pointing a fry at me. “Go on, I’ll get this.” She pulled out her checkbook and grinned.

“It’s not a date,” I said severely. “And thank you.”

“Anytime. Remember, I want details!”

“I’ll be sure to tell you just how his face looked when I handed over the profit estimates.” I grinned and headed out, slinging my bag over my shoulder.

Could Jane possibly be right? I could see men—and a few women—looking admiringly at my dress and my heels. And me. Had I really come so far, gotten so comfortable with myself, only to deny myself the one thing I really, truly wanted? I was freaking gorgeous, and I told myself that I believed that.

But what if I didn’t?

That seemed like a question to ponder with a bottle of wine and a bubble bath later. I filed that away and checked to make sure I had all the documents, then texted Dave.

In the lobby.

The reply came back at once: Room 2536.

I punched the button and waited as the elevator ascended, making my ears pop. I should have expected that Dave would be working this late. He was the young prodigy, after all. Maybe that was part of why Nathaniel hated him so much—carefree Dave who openly admitted that he liked hang gliding and expensive dinners more than work. Something to consider. I knocked on the door to Dave’s room

…and felt my mouth fall open as I looked inside.

It was absolutely filled with candles, glittering softly in the dim light. I could see roses in vases all around, and their smell was intoxicating. A bottle of champagne was on ice, and Dave’s smile, as he looked at me, was bright with unexpected mischief.

“Uh…” I was still holding the documents. “So when you said you needed these…”

“I was not lying,” he said, grinning. “I really did. But…I admit I also wanted to see you.” He stepped back from the door, hands up. “You don’t have to come in if you don’t want to. No obligations.”

That, of all things, was what decided me…or at least gave me the courage to step over the threshold. I looked around myself, smiling without any volition at all.

“What is this about?”

“What do you mean?” Dave poured a flute of champagne and held it out. “I fell for you the first time I saw you. I’m only in town for a few days, but I wanted to see you outside the office.”

“And you’re sure you’re not just trying to get back at Mr. Bryan for taking me to coffee this morning?”

“I admit that I was certainly motivated to outdo him.” He raised his own glass and took a sip. “But this isn’t about him. It’s about you.”

“Me.” I looked down into my glass. I could hear Jane’s words in my head and I realized she was absolutely, entirely correct—I didn’t need a bubble bath and a bottle of wine to see the truth. “How could it be me? How does a man who worked his way up the corporate ladder by 26 want me?”

“Simple.” He was suddenly very close, and I forgot how to breathe. Every part of my body seemed to be on fire, and I was drowning in those dark blue eyes. “You’re mischievous, you’re passionate, and you’re smart. You’re everything I have looked for in a woman, and you’re sexy as hell on top of it. Ms. Thornton…”

“April,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

“April. The more I learn about you, the more I want you.”

His lips hovered close to mine for a moment and I was frozen, entirely unable to move. I couldn’t have walked away if the fire alarms had started going off. I was weak at the knees with how much I wanted him, and when his lips came down on mine, I would have fallen over if it weren’t for his arm around my waist.