“How many have you had?”

Jasper grins down at me, but I see his eyes flick to the two empty glasses on the table in front of me. He sits down just as the waitress appears at my elbow, takes the two empty glasses, and puts down another one. It’s whiskey, neat. I don’t answer Jasper because I can’t remember. The glasses are swept away as soon as I’m finished with them. All except these two. These two, the waitress lingers over. Maybe she’s trying to make a point.

I straighten up. “A glass of water, too, please.” The waitress nods, then leans over to Jasper for his order. I don’t catch it. Then she’s gone again in a flash of her black cocktail dress. “What were we talking about?”

“I just got here.” The grin on his face is a cautious one. “You seemed a little desperate for company on a Tuesday evening.”

“Did I?”

“According to your twenty text messages, yes. What the hell is going on with you?” Jasper’s tone is good-natured, but he doesn’t take his eyes off me. “Isabella thinks you broke up with your girlfriend.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Right, because you just broke up with her. Is that what happened? She’s waiting for me to tell her. Didn’t want to leave work to come see for herself, but she’s dying to know.”

“Not so much!” I take a swig of the whiskey and laugh, too loud.

Jasper leans back in his chair. The waitress brings his drink, and he takes it in his hand, holding it there without drinking. “Not so much what, exactly?”

What the hell do I have to lose by telling him what happened? I think he’s probably the only person in New York who knows about Ruby’s existence. No. That’s not right. Jasper—cutthroat, business-obsessed Jasper—is the only one in New York who knew that she caught my eye.

I point at him from around my glass, the whiskey sloshing up the sides. “You told me she sounded like she was worth the chase.”

“Did I?”

“Yeah.” I remember it for sure.

“And you chased her?” Jasper sips at his drink, looking at me over the rim of his glass.

“Fuck yes.”

“And you caught her?”

“I did.”

“How many drinks have you had?”

I put down the drink on the table, the thud muffled by the tablecloth. “Look. It hasn’t been that many.”

“I think you’re done, after this.”

“She’s the one who ended things.”

Jasper’s eyes go wide. “No shit.”

“She did.”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing.” I laugh, and the sound is bitter and lifeless. “I just tried to help her, that was all.”

“Did the auction go badly? Did you get screwed on the sales? I mean, what—” 

“I found a single buyer before we even went through with the auction.” The words feel heavy against my tongue, difficult to force out, and as I speak Jasper leans in, his forehead wrinkling. Why the hell is he doing that? Everything I’m saying has to be perfectly fucking understandable.

“A single buyer for everything?”

“Hell yes.” 

He considers me, his face briefly blurring into a distorted version of itself. “How could that have possibly pissed her off?”

“This woman—” I wave a hand in the air in what I’m positive is a decisive gesture. “She’s got a real problem.”

Jasper laughs. “I’m willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.”

“Don’t be a dick.” I pick up the glass of whiskey and empty it. “She just wants to keep everything. She doesn’t want to give a damn thing up. I hated that look on her face, how fucking...” I have to search for the word. “How fucking helpless she looked whenever we’d walk through that house, and she’d tell me about all the shit she wished she could keep. And then last week—”

“Jesus. Don’t tell me you’ve been sitting on this for a week.”

“Days. Not a week.” It seems like an important distinction. I haven’t yet lived a week in this hell. Not yet. “Last week, I tell her the great news, and she loses it. Said she wanted to buy certain things back. She doesn’t have the money for that shit. She never told me—”

“You made her walk through that house again and again, and you didn’t hold back anything for her?”

I give Jasper a look that makes him burst out laughing. “I held stuff back. What do you think I am, a fucking monster?”

“No. You’re right. That was an unfair assumption. But you’re not a sentimental man. I’m surprised you held out for that long before you sold.”

“I held out for longer than that.” I waggle my eyebrows at Jasper, who rolls his eyes. “Seriously. I still have some of it. Because I had a plan.”

Jasper shakes his head. “This is ridiculous. Just call her and tell her you fucked up.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

“First off, she wouldn’t answer.” I stick one finger in the air, then bring up a second one beside it. “Second, I’m not into that bullshit. I don’t get attached. That’s why I’m so damn good at what I do. The minute I call her, it’s all over.”

“Doesn’t sound like it to me.”

“I can’t turn into some guy who’s in love with every single thing that crosses his path. I don’t have time for that shit. I never did. I lost money on her fucking sale.”

“I’m sure you did. But didn’t you learn anything from it?”

“Like what?” I sneer at Jasper.

“Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps the fact that she’s more important to you than your money, or your stubborn insistence on letting everything go?” He makes air quotes around the last three words.

“I let her go.”

“Yeah, and look at you now.”

“Apologizing isn’t going to fix the fact...the fact of what I did.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I saw her face, man. I know it.” I look him in the eye. “I’m not going back on the sale I made. It was—it was a good choice.”

“In a way, it probably was. But this?” Jasper waves in my general direction. “This isn’t a good look on you. Come on. I’m going to give you a ride home.”

“What’s the point?” Jasper comes around the table and pulls me out of my seat. The floor bucks beneath me. “She’s not there.”