An Agreement (Summer in New York Book 3)

by Lindsay Marie Miller

  He was still watching me.

  “I’m not making any sense am I?” I asked.

  “If that’s the kind of guy you want to be with, then that’s the kind of guy you’ll find.”

  “I’m not so sure.” I’d barely touched my sundae. “Do you want some?”

  “You sure?” he asked.

  I nodded and he got up to get an extra spoon.

  I saw all the employees headed out the front door. Carter told them goodbye and then switched the open sign to closed. When he came back to the table, it was just the two of us in the restaurant.

  “I should go. It’s getting late, and I’m probably not supposed to be in here.”

  “It’s okay.” He looked into my eyes. “You’re with me.”

  “But you’re closed. Won’t the manager get upset?”

  He leaned back in his chair and smirked, letting his arm rest on the table.

  “What?” I caught the gleam in his eye.

  “I own the place.”

  “Really?”

  “Mm-hmm.” He ate the rest of my brownie with ice cream.

  “Why didn’t you tell me that before?”

  “I don’t know,” he shrugged. “I just didn’t.”

  “Well, I think you’re doing a great job. This is the nicest restaurant in the city.”

  “You mean the most expensive?” he said.

  I smiled and looked away. “Thank you for the appetizers. They were great.”

  He pointed his spoon at the sundae. “This is on the house, too.”

  “Carter, really you don’t have to. I’d like to pay for it.”

  “Let me.” He held my gaze. “Please. To make up for me calling you a desperate loser.”

  I laughed. “Fine. The truth is, I don’t think you were too far off.”

  “Bailey.”

  “I know I’ve only been on a couple dates. You shouldn’t expect to meet your husband by then.”

  “Is that what you’re looking for?” he asked. “A husband?”

  “I’m looking for a good man who I can spend the rest of my life with. I want us to love each other.”

  He ate another spoonful of ice cream and then put it down. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “I know.” I ran my fingers through my hair. “I just wish I knew how to do this.”

  “Do what?”

  “Go on dates. Attract the right guy. Fall in love.”

  “You’re too hard on yourself.” He wiped his hands off. “I think you’re doing fine.”

  “I just wish I knew what men wanted. Not any man, but the kind I’m looking for. I’m not about to change myself for someone else. But I’d like to get better at this, you know? I want to be confident and feel like I really know what I’m doing. If only they taught a class on this stuff.”

  “What would you call it? How to Snag a Husband 101?”

  “No, more like Intro to the Opposite Sex.”

  His gaze made me light up with fireworks. “I don’t think you’re as lost as you think you are.”

  “It’s just that I’ve never really put myself out there. I was always too... scared.”

  “Everyone gets scared, Bailey. Why does that make you think you need a dating coach?”

  “It’s not that I need a dating coach. I just want to be good at this. I want someone to teach me how.”

  “There are books on this you know. Dating. Marriage. Divorce.”

  I rolled my eyes. “I want a guy to show me the ropes.”

  “Why does it have to be a guy?” he asked.

  “Isn’t that who I’m trying to attract?” I teased.

  He scanned my figure. “You look very nice tonight. Didn’t you choose that outfit yourself?”

  “Well, yeah. But it would be nice to get some guidance from a man every now and then. An honest one.”

  “And where are you going to find this Obi Wan?”

  “I don’t know.” I thought about it. “I guess I could—”

  “I’ll do it.”

  “What?” I was baffled. “You want me to take advice from you? Someone who doesn’t believe in love?”

  “I never said I didn’t believe in love.”

  Well, I guess that was true. It was dating in general he seemed to have a problem with.

  “So why should I listen to you?” I asked.

  “Because I’ll actually tell you the truth. Unlike most men who are just interested in getting you into bed.”

  “So you’d help me? Help me find the man I’m meant to be with?”

  “Yeah, Bailey,” he swallowed. “I’ll help you find him.”

  Chapter 4

  Bailey

  We shook on it. And I felt it again—his electric touch.

  I was really happy Carter had volunteered to help me out in my weakest area of expertise. Men. But I also felt a little heartbroken all over again. The reason Carter wouldn’t have a problem being honest with me about what men really want is because he had no interest in me. I’d thought I was wrong. But when he insinuated that he wasn’t one of those men wanting to get me into bed, I had my answer.

  Carter wasn’t sexually attracted to me. He never would be. And I’d have to get over it.

  Maybe it was for the best. It would certainly make it easier to open up to him. Now that he was my wingman, so to speak. We could be friends. And that would be enough. For now.

  After a few days, I started to like our little agreement. He replied to all of my texts, answered whenever I called. And since we were both working all the time, we talked late at night.

  On his first night off, I invited him over to help me with my wardrobe. Even though it probably needed the least amount of work. If anything, it was an excuse to see him. I knew it wasn’t healthy. Carter would never want me like that. But I liked him too much to keep myself from sharing his company.

  “I still don’t understand this. Aren’t you the fashion designer?” he said.

  “Not really, other than the custom pieces.”

  “Bailey, you run a clothing store. Why do you need my opinion?”

  “Because you’re a man.” I led him into my closet. “And you promised to be honest with me.”

  He nodded with a sigh. “Okay.” Then he looked around. “What if you don’t like what I have to say?”

  I started pulling outfits I might wear on a date. “Then I’ll just have to deal with it.”

  He chuckled. “All righty then.” He leaned back on his heels and slipped his hands in his pockets.

  “Why don’t I just start trying things on and you can tell me what you think?”

  When he agreed, I grabbed his arm and steered him onto my bed. He plopped down and crossed his arms, moping. You would’ve thought I’d trapped him in a medieval torture chamber.

  “Okay.” I came out in a yellow top and chocolate colored mini-skirt. “What about this?”

  He shrugged. “It’s okay, I guess.”

  “Okay? Do you have any idea how much this cost?”

  He smiled. “What happened to you valuing my honest opinion?”

  I bit my lip. “You’re right. But I can’t just look okay.”

  He leaned back on his elbows. “It’s the skirt. I don’t like that color.”

  “Why not?” I asked. “It’s cute.”

  “It’s not horrible. It’s just not your best color.”

  “Gee thanks,” I huffed, making a bee line for the closet.

  “Hey, this was your idea!”

  “I know.” I peeked around the corner. “But you’re the one who volunteered as tribute.”

  “Why don’t you try on a dress?” he suggested. “Do you have any more like the red one?”

  I rifled through my closet. “I have a black one and a blue one that are almost identical.”

  “Let’s see the blue one,” he said.

  “All right.” I took off the yellow top and hung it back up. And then I shimmied out of the chocolate skirt he hated and tossed it to the wayside. The bl
ue dress I’d designed was on the top shelf. And while I usually climbed a step ladder to reach it, the ladder was broken. And I hadn’t bought a new one yet.

  “Everything okay?”

  “Yeah,” I grunted, trying to reach it. “Just a minute.”

  I climbed the lower shelves and got my fingers around the blue dress. But when I grabbed it, all the boxes stored on the top shelf came toppling down. I shrieked and covered my face with my hands. But in the end, I lay beneath a pile on the floor wearing nothing but my bra and panties.

  “Bailey.” He ran into the closet and helped me sit up. “Are you okay?”

  “Yeah.” I furrowed my brow, because one of the boxes had hit me in the head.

  Carter threw the blue dress over me so I could cover myself. I held it against the front of my body and leaned back on my hand. There were some places on my legs that were probably going to bruise.

  He looked up in my closet. “What happened?”

  “I was trying to get something off the top shelf. My ladder is broken.”

  “Why didn’t you ask me to get it?”

  “I don’t know.” I held on to one of the shelves as I stood up.

  He grabbed my shoulders to steady me, and I looked into his eyes. All I saw was fear.

  Realizing my near-nakedness, I wrapped the dress around my body in a way that would cover more skin. But he just stood there with his hands on me. It was painful knowing that he’d never make a real move.

  “Carter, could you give me a minute?” I stared at the floor.

  “Yeah.” He stepped back. “I’ll be right here.”

  Once he left the closet, I slipped into the blue dress. Like the red one, it hugged all my curves in the right places. Despite the tight fit, it was actually really comfortable. And I liked how I felt wearing it.

  “Carter?” I called. “Could you help me with the zipper?”

  “Yeah.”

  My back was turned, but I heard him come in. He zipped my dress up slowly and then turned me around to face him. His blue eyes scanned my figure from head to toe. And it sent shivers down my spine.

  “It looks great.” He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I’d definitely keep that one in mind.”

  I looked around in my closet. No matter what I wore, he’d never be attracted to me. He thought the dress looked great. But he hadn’t said that I did.

  “What about shoes?” I asked to distract myself.

  “Men don’t really care about shoes.” He stood right next to me.

  “And jewelry?”

  “Men don’t really care about jewelry either.” His breath was on my neck.

  “How about my makeup?” I felt brave enough to look him in the eye.

  “Eyes and lips are all that matter. And I think you’ve got that part nailed.”

  I nodded, feeling a warm blush rise to my cheeks. “And my hair?”

  It was pulled back in a ponytail. He took the tie out, and my hair fell around my face.

  “I was thinking about getting it cut. It’s so hot out now since it’s summer.”

  He pulled my hair over my shoulders so it lay against my breasts. “Don’t ever cut your hair.”

  He was so close I could smell his cologne. My heart was pounding for him. I wished he felt the same way. I wasn’t even sure why he was doing any of this. I’d have to cut it off before I got hurt.

  He cupped my cheek in his hand, and I leaned into his touch. But then the doorbell rang. And he put so much space between us that it felt like a slap in the face.

  “Who’s that?” he asked.

  “I ordered a pizza.” I grabbed my purse and left him in the closet.

  “You didn’t have to do that.” He followed me to the front door.

  “It’s the least I could do.” I paid the pizza guy and dropped the box on the table. “I made a salad.”

  “You really didn’t have to do all this.”

  I turned my back to keep from crying. Then I opened a bottle of red wine. “I wanted to.”

  “Thanks, Bailey. You’ll have to let me pay next time.”

  He was planning on a next time. My heart swelled with hope.

  “Okay.” I poured a couple glasses of red wine and set the table.

  “This is really nice.” He took the seat across from me.

  “Thanks.” I put some salad on each of our plates and then opened the pizza box.

  “You know what I can’t figure out?” he asked.

  “What?” I let him take the first slice and then grabbed one for myself.

  “How it is that you’re single in the first place.”

  I chewed on the inside of my cheek. “I’ve never been the best with men.”

  “How come?” He ate heartily and sipped at his wine.

  “I don’t know. I’ve never had the confidence level other women have.”

  “Why not?” he asked. “You’re adorable.”

  I stabbed a piece of lettuce. I didn’t want to be adorable. I wanted to be gorgeous, sexy, hot.

  Wasn’t that what men wanted?

  “I’ve just never felt good enough.”

  “Why would you—”

  “I don’t really want to talk about it.”

  “I’m sorry. I think any man would be lucky to have you.”

  Except for you, of course.

  “So what else would you like my advice on? From a man’s perspective?”

  “How come the guys I’m most attracted to are never interested in me?” I asked.

  “How do you know they’re not?”

  “I always have to initiate the conversation. And then they end up ghosting me.”

  “If I were you, I wouldn’t waste my time with someone who can’t see how amazing you are.”

  I swallowed and set my fork down. “You think I’m amazing?”

  He caught himself and averted his gaze. “Well yeah, I mean, look at all you’ve accomplished.”

  “So that’s what men want? A list of accomplishments?”

  He pressed out a thin smile. “I just mean you have a lot going for you. More than most your age.”

  I wanted to throw my napkin down and walk away. I never should have invited him over. It wasn’t healthy to be around a man I could never have. A man who would never want me.

  “Do you have any new dates lined up?” he asked.

  “Not really. I thought you could show me the ropes first to get my confidence up.”

  “You’re never going to find the right guy like that. You need to put yourself out there.”

  “I know,” I said. “I’ve been putting myself out there.”

  “Well, you’re gonna have to go on a lot more dates than two.”

  “I know that,” I hissed.

  He caught the bite in my tone. “You wanted honesty, Bailey. That’s what I’m giving you.”

  “Well, if dating is so wonderful then how come you refuse to date anybody?”

  He looked at me and smoldered. I immediately regretted what I’d said.

  A moment of silence passed between us. And I felt a little bit like crying.

  “I’m sorry,” I said. “I just wish things were different.”

  “How?” He stared into my eyes.

  “I wish you...” I felt tears welling up in my eyes. “Never mind.”

  “You wish I what?” he asked.

  I picked up my fork and ate a bite of salad.

  “You wish I what?”

  “Just forget it, Carter. It doesn’t matter anyway.”

  “You wanna know what men want, Bailey? For a woman to just say how she feels instead of expecting us to be mind readers. If you don’t communicate with me, how am I supposed to help you?”

  I cut my pizza into small pieces, feeling flushed and heated by his blunt words.

  “Why are you helping me, Carter?” I asked.

  “Because I want to.”

  “But why?"

  “Because I think you’re a good person. And you deserve a good guy.”

 
The threat of tears made me lower my eyes. “So what are we then?”

  “Friends,” he said.

  “Friends,” I nodded. Because if that was all he was willing to offer, I’d take it. “I’ve never had a guy friend before.”

  “I’ve never been friends with a woman before either. I guess it will be something new for both of us.”

  He’d put me in the friend zone, and it made me feel awful. How could I listen to him telling me how wonderful I was as a prospect for other men? When he had never desired me himself?

  “Thanks for coming over tonight.” I stood up and took my plate to the sink. “I appreciate your help.”

  “No problem.” He followed me into the kitchen. “I’m glad to help.”

  “I’ll do the dishes,” I said. “You can head on home if you like.”

  He leaned against the counter. “Are you kicking me out?”

  I spotted a grin on his face. He had me so confused. What did he want?

  “No. But it’s getting late. You don’t have to stay.”

  He moved closer to me. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

  “I have to work.”

  “What are you doing before work?” he asked.

  I felt his eyes on me as I washed our forks and knives in the sink.

  “I might go to the gym. I haven’t been in a while. Things have been so busy at work, I’ve just been squeezing in a run here and there. But I’d really like to get back in shape. It gives me more energy.”

  “What gym do you go to?”

  I told him, and lo and behold, we went to the same one.

  “I can help train you,” he said.

  He was in really great shape. So it’s not like he wasn’t qualified.

  “I don’t know. You’re already helping me with everything else.”

  “We’re members of the same gym,” he pointed out.

  “I know. But are you sure you have enough time?”

  “Yeah. And if not, I’ll make time.”

  I took a breath and closed my eyes. “All right.”

  “Unless you don’t want me to.”

  “No, that’s fine.” I walked him to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”