CHAPTER 6
I’m struggling to make it through two morning appointments, a networking event at a Riverside restaurant, and a final brainstorming session with Linden in preparation for the Lakeman meeting on Monday morning.
When I step into the lobby to leave work Friday, there’s a group of young employees milling around and chatting. I pick up the pace to bypass them, but Aggie spots me and calls my name. Pinned with guilt, I slump and turn to her voice.
In rapid, small strides, she bounces to my side. Her gleaming smile and jittery hands signal her excitement. Like always, my immediate reaction is to shrink away, but I fight my instincts. I need to watch and learn, to study what real happiness looks like.
“I found him,” she announces, clasping her hands at her chest.
“Who?” I glance around.
“My experimental guy.” She locks her hands behind her back and swings her hips, appearing proud.
My eyes widen, remembering her new relationships goals. I peer at the group, searching to find who made the cut. Standing out with his height, a dusting of light freckles and dull ginger hair, there’s one person I can guess. He quietly lumbers, wearing his ironic T-shirt with his hands tucked in his jean pockets. He’s cute when he smiles, and when he laughs, the lines create starbursts at the edges of his eyes.
“Adam?” My voice pinches. “Won’t it be weird? You work together.”
“You’re forgetting the point is to have fun. No attachments.”
I bobble my head, feeling sorry for him. The poor guy has no clue what’s about to happen.
She continues, “You should come out. We’re doing happy hour at Cabana Joe’s on the river. They’ve got a reggae band and five-dollar piña coladas.”
“Tempting?” My nose tugs on one side.
“Don’t you want to see me in action?” She claws the air.
“Oh, I’ve seen you in action, but I’m heading home. It’s been a long week, and I need to train. The marathon...” My words trail when she shoots me a doubtful look. This is the excuse I use to dodge every group invitation, and she knows it.
“So you’ve zeroed in on your one-night stand too?”
“What? No.” I blanch, but my limbs instantly heat.
She steps backward, dancing away with a conspiratorial smile. “Aww, you’re going to break Evan Wade’s poor little hottie heart.”
Her words catch the attention of passing coworkers. Questioning gazes flitter in my direction. Anyone who works here would know who he is. I want to press a finger to my lips to shush her, but censoring Aggie would cause her to talk louder—if that’s humanly possible.
“Don’t turn him into a vampire,” she hisses when she nears the others again. At her words, everyone turns to me. I stiffen at their interest. Heat creeps from my arms, spirals over my shoulders, and seeps into my dismayed face when someone asks her who the lucky him is. I might as well be standing in the blinding heat of a spotlight... on a stage... and naked. Before my coworkers can drag me into the conversation and ask more questions, I dart for the elevator.
I don’t relax until I’m blocks away and safely on my way home. But the problem is Aggie has me contemplating my nonexistent sex life again. And it soon occurs to me I never checked Evan’s text from last weekend. At first I avoided it on purpose, but then I forgot—or forced myself to forget.
As I stroll the sidewalk I remove my cell and swipe to the main screen, tap the texting icon, and scroll through a week of messages.
Lou’s updated me on his trip to the London. He begins every correspondence with the word ello and ends them with cheers. He hates warm beer but loves the nightclubs. Aggie’s text stream includes several snapshots of her modeling possible boring outfits for work. Then there’s a text from my mom. I purse my lips and scroll past without reading, like all her messages before. I walk a little faster, needing to escape her.
But there’s one text I do want to read. My thumb hovers over his name. My gaze focuses. My stomach turns. I click on and off the text several times, fighting with myself.
A horn blares. Lifting my eyes to the alarm, I find myself in a crosswalk with oncoming traffic speeding in my direction. My insides freeze before I run for the far curb, my heels narrowly missing the bumper of an accelerating taxi.
With a racing heart, I move from the stream of pedestrians and pin myself against a brick wall to calm my pumping chest. I walked into an intersection without even realizing. I almost killed myself over a dumb text. My fingers clench the cell.
I need to be done with this. I open his text.
At the sight of his name, I’ve traveled from near death by taxi to an enticing fluttery high. That is until I read his message.
EVAN: Or R U 2 prissy 2 sleep on my couch? ;)