Me: Does this look like a date outfit?
Devon: Who are you going on a date with? Aren’t you in Vegas for a work conference?
Me: *eye roll emoji* not going on a date, that’s why I’m asking, otherwise I’d just wear it
Jamie: I like it! Could be business chic
Presley: I like it!
Me: Thanks!
The minute I hit send, I get a phone call from my brother.
“Seriously?” I say. “Is this about the date outfit?”
“No.” He pauses with a heavy sigh. “Are you going to call Mom?”
“No.” I plop down on the floor by my bed. “Do you want me to check on her?”
“I don’t know.”
“That means you want me to.”
“Not true. It means I don’t know. I don’t know what I would do if I was there.”
“You’d probably call, and then she’d call you back every five seconds until you visit her with a wad of cash.”
He’s quiet. I’m quiet. We both know I’m right.
“I’ll let you know if I speak to her,” I say after a moment.
“Be careful.”
“Always.”
I hang up the phone and toss it on the bed. I love my brother and I’m so grateful for everything he did for me growing up, but after he left for college my life was flipped upside down. No amount of advice or phone calls to check up on me could’ve helped me during that time. It’s not his fault. None of what happened was, but it doesn’t change the fact that it happened and he doesn’t even know the half of it. My phone buzzes. I lift my head and look at it.
Owl: So, cheating on my ex is a total deal breaker for you?
Me: I hate liars, cheaters, etc., so yeah, I guess it is
Owl: Even if I had my reasons?
Me: We tell ourselves anything we have to in order to make our wrongdoings acceptable. It doesn’t make our actions any less wrong.
Owl: Ouch
Me: It’s the truth
Owl: I understand. Friends?
Me: Sure. Friends :-)
* * *
The effort I put into this outfit, my hair and makeup, are worth it when Bennett’s eyes run along my body, taking it all in. I know I shouldn’t feel this sensation inside of me, but I can’t help it. I can’t stop feeling when I’m near him, and that’s a lot more than I can say about anyone else I’ve dated these past few years. He’s wearing a checkered blue button-down tucked into dark jeans, dress shoes that match his belt, and a navy suit jacket over it all. He looks like a fucking wet dream, with his dark hair brushed back, that shadow on his golden skin, and those auburn eyes that seemingly glow when he’s looking at me. I sigh, shaking my head.
“I know,” he says.
“Know what? That you look good?”
“That we shouldn’t be thinking what we’re thinking about each other.”
I lick my lips, looking down at my shoes. “I’m not thinking anything, other than the obvious, you look hot, but you know that.”
He steps forward, his dress shoes tapping against the tip of mine. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like to hear it from a beautiful woman.”
I glance up, heart pounding in my ears. “I work for you now.”
“Which is why this week is going to be the ultimate test,” he says. “Even if I didn’t know how good it feels to be inside of you, it would be the ultimate test.”
I can’t speak. Or think. But somehow, I manage to blink away all of the thoughts running through my head and turn around, toward the elevators, Bennett at my heels. This is definitely going to be the ultimate test.
Chapter Fourteen
Owl: What’s your favorite color?
Me: Cherry red. You?
Owl: Black
Me: LOL
Owl: Favorite movie?
Me: Shutter Island. You?
Owl: Seven
Me: Guess we are matched up pretty well, huh, new friend?
Owl: Guess so
Me: Favorite food
Owl: Indian. You?
Me: ME TOO!
Owl: Biggest regret
Me: I can’t.
Owl: We’ll come back to that one
Me: Doubt it. I can’t say it aloud
Owl: I’m asking you to type it
Me: It might be worse to type than to say aloud, then I’ll have the mistake staring back at me
Owl: It’s already staring back at you every single day. Might as well let it out into the universe and forgive yourself for it
Me: Not today
Owl: Fair enough. Mine is the cheating thing
Me: Are you just saying that because you know it’s a deal breaker and you want to jump over the friend zone hurdle?
Owl: No. I’m serious.
Owl: But is it working? The jumping out of the friend zone thing?
Me: No. Nice try, though ;-)
“You’re smiling again.”
Bennett’s voice beside me startles me. “Jesus.”
“Just Bennett.”
I roll my eyes. “Stop sneaking up on me.”
“I’m not sneaking up on you at all. I’m getting food.” He shoots a pointed look at his plate. We’re standing in line at a buffet. “You’re holding up the line by staring at your phone with a goofy smile on your face. Did you get yourself a boyfriend?”
“Not exactly.”
“Oh, God.” He reaches over for the tongs and serves himself salad. “You’re not on the app, are you?”
“I have to keep an eye on it.” I try to hide it, suddenly embarrassed by the entire thing.
“Yeah, for maintenance. I didn’t think you’d actually join for love.”
“I didn’t join for love.” I take the tongs from him and serve my own salad. “I joined for research. I’ve already found five glitches.”
“Hmmm. It’s a good thing you’re testing it out, then.”
“Yeah.” I glance away from his hand.
“You’re still smiling.”
“I’m not allowed to smile?”
“You are.” He stares at me, a small smile forming on his lips. It’s not a wanting smile or a seductive one, but a soft one that makes the plains on his face look soft instead of intense. It’s a smile that makes my heart dip into my stomach and bounce back up. “It’s cute.”
“My smile?”
“All of it. You say you don’t want to find love, but I think it’s pretty obvious you do, Cupid.”
“Hm.” I walk to an empty table. He sits across from me. I glance up and meet his gaze as I’m setting the napkin on my lap. “You know, if I had to call you something, I’d call you Trouble. That’s what you are. Trouble with a capital T.”
He grins. “Is it the dimples?”
“Yeah.”
“The perfect smile? The bulging muscles?” His eyes twinkle with each description of himself. Each accurate description that makes my pulse skip twice. “The natural tan? The six-pack?”
I roll my eyes, laughing. “You’re so full of yourself. It’s no wonder you and Dev get along so well.”
His smile drops at the mention of my brother. He clears his throat and starts cutting into his steak, quiet as we both enjoy our meals. When he looks up, his eyes are different, a little darker, a little secretive. “So, you are dating someone on that app?”
“Not dating. Just talking.”
“You think it’s Wesley?”
“I think Wesley wishes it were him.” I laugh. “I honestly don’t know much about him, so it very well could be him.” My smile falters when I look up from my plate and see his scowl. “What?”
“Nothing. I just didn’t think it would bother me this much.”
“Me and Wesley?”
“You and anyone.” His gaze locks with mine. “You and anyone that’s not me.”
“You said . . .”
“I know, and I meant it. I did. It’s not a good idea. Fraternization policy or not, it wouldn’t be fair for me to go after you being your superior. It
definitely wouldn’t go over well with your brother. You say I’m trouble with a capital T, but you don’t even know the half of it.”
He is trouble. I bite my lip. I want to though. I want to know all of it.
Chapter Fifteen
Day one of the conference is a success. Bennett and I went to a few panels together and then split the rest of the day, agreeing to catch up tonight over dinner. I’m walking back to the elevators when I spot him smiling at something a woman in front of him is saying. She has a hand on his arm, looking up at him like he’s a god, and I’m instantly flooded with hot jealousy. He’s a sweet talker, like my brother. He plays mind games. I don’t like either one of those things, so why is this particular man getting under my skin? After the whole Justin fiasco, I’ve gone for straitlaced boys. The ones who don’t think to swerve out of their lanes. The ones who don’t really question what I’m doing or saying or go against the grain. The wallflowers that don’t have women draped all over them all the time. Bennett is not that. He’s bold and gorgeous and rich and smart and is definitely not a wallflower. The two walk into the elevator together, the only people in there right now. I fight the urge to run and catch it so they have an audience. Instead, I wait and watch as the numbers tick above the door, stopping on our floor. Ugh.
I catch the next one and keep my head down as I walk, checking my app once more. There’s a notification I missed an hour ago.
Owl: Radio silence from you today
Me: Working
No response. Also, no sight of Bennett or the woman he was speaking to downstairs. I walk into my room and pause when I hear voices in the room beside mine. Definitely his. Probably hers. My stomach clenches. I shouldn’t want to listen, but I press my ear to the door nonetheless. I can’t make out their conversation but I can hear that they’re having one. Better that than sex noises, right?
Me: I think I have a crush on my boss
Maybe I shouldn’t say that to this stranger. In three weeks, he’ll know who I am, and if it’s Wesley, whom I like, I’ll have no chance with him. But also, I need to say it to someone who’s not my friend. I need to say it to another male, one who can’t possibly like me yet. It’s too soon for that. I toss my phone on the bed and head to the shower. I calculate that I have enough time to shower, lay in bed in my fluffy robe for an hour, and still have time to get ready for dinner, so that’s what I set out to do. Better to busy myself and ignore whatever is happening next door. I mean, I have absolutely no reason to be jealous of whatever is happening. Jealousy is an emotion though, and emotions don’t really make sense.
I’m lying in bed when my phone vibrates with an alert from the app.
Owl: Sorry. Work was crazy today. So . . . you like your boss?
I close my eyes. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything after all. While the anonymity is freeing, this is the kind of thing that could come back and bite me in the ass.
Me: I said I think
Owl: Maybe you should tell him?
Me: NO! I would never.
Owl: Is it bad that I’m glad you’re not going to tell him? Gives me an opportunity to win you over or at least cross the friend zone line
Me: LOL. Anyway. Do you like what you do? At work?
Owl: I do.
Me: Me too
Owl: What’s your ultimate goal? Get this on your resume? Move up in the company? Start your own?
Me: I would love to start my own, but that requires money, which I don’t have
Owl: I hear you.
My alarm goes off and I shake myself and bolt out of bed. I have a pending dinner work date with Bennett that I am not going to miss. I dress quickly, opting for a more casual look today, in tight jeans, a tight black shirt, and another pair of stilettos. I sweep my hair into a bun and walk out of my room, opening my tiny shoulder bag to make sure I grabbed my room key.
“Whoa.”
I look up and startle when I see Bennett standing in front of me. He’s wearing a similar outfit to yesterday’s—jeans, dress shoes, dress shirt, and blazer.
“Whoa yourself.”
He smiles. “You hungry?”
“Always.”
“Good.” He chuckles as we start to walk toward the elevator. “I’m starving.”
“Anything in particular you feel like eating?” I ask as we step in.
He looks at me, his eyes aglow, and I know the answer he could easily give me. It’s the one I crave to hear, but don’t question because I’m afraid I’ll get the answer I want. I’m afraid I’ll get one I don’t. I change the subject instead.
“I saw you talking to someone.”
His brows pull momentarily, before realization settles. “Lana.”
“Didn’t catch her name.” I step out of the elevator. He follows. I glance up as we walk through the noisy casino. “She was in your room earlier.”
“Keeping tabs on me, Cupid?”
I roll my eyes, hiding the disappointment, wishing he’d add more to that, give me details even though I know they’d grate at me. Why do I care? WHY DO I CARE? Ugh. He steers me toward the Japanese restaurant and asks for a table for two.
“Away from the noise,” he adds.
The hostess smiles and asks us to follow her. We walk to the back of the restaurant, through a door, and are ushered into a dimly lit room with a table for two at the center. On the floor. I look at her. Look at him. Look at the table. Look back at her.
“Um.”
“This is perfect. Thank you,” Bennett says.
“This is super private and I feel like I’m going to have to give you a hand job in here,” I whisper shout when she walks out.
He throws his head back and howls out a laugh. “Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously. Don’t tell me that wasn’t your first thought.”
“It really wasn’t, but now that it’s in here.” He taps his forehead. “It can’t be ignored.”
“Well, it’s not going to happen.” I look at the pillows on the floor. “Am I supposed to take off my shoes? I’m kind of afraid my pants will rip. They’re really freaking tight and only a little stretchy.” I gnaw on my bottom lip. Bennett laughs louder. I shoot him a glare. “It’s not funny. I don’t know the etiquette here. I’ve never been to a place like this before.”
“Take off your shoes. I’m sure your pants will be fine, but if not, I have a jacket you can use.”
With that, I take off my shoes, and walk over to the pillows, getting down on all fours and crawling to the middle of the table.
“You have no idea how sexy that looks,” Bennett murmurs.
I glance up, still on all fours, and nearly gasp at the look on his face. I sit down quickly and pick up the menu. I need to control this ridiculous feeling. He takes off his jacket and tosses it over the chair on the other side of the room and meets me on the floor, lifting his own menu.
“You like sake?”
“Never tried it.”
“Ever?” He lowers his menu, raising an eyebrow. I shake my head. “We’ll have to order some shots, then.”
“Okay.”
We go over our respective days in panels and what we learned. At one point, I feel like I’m probably talking way too much, but Bennett just sits there with a look of interest, so I keep talking until he frowns.
“You lost me.”
“Where?”
“Why are they uploading PDF files into a program and cross-checking them with other PDF files?”
“To find out whether or not the people plagiarized the other titles.”
“Who would plagiarize Wuthering Heights?”
“Stupid people.” I shrug. “I don’t know. I just thought it was pretty amazing that she was able to create this program for this specific audience. It’s a big audience, too. Publishing houses are already contacting her to cross-check things.”
“Impressive.” He takes a sip of his beer. “Note to self, don’t hire a ghostwriter.”
I laugh. “That’s what I said.”
He smiles, his eyes looking all over my face to the point that I’m forced to look away and pick up my drink.
“You don’t like attention, do you?”
“Not really.” I’m looking at the beer in my glass as I take small sips.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, his voice low. “You should be used to attention.”
“I hate it.” I glance up, meeting his gaze.
“Being told that you’re beautiful or the attention being beautiful brings?”
“Both.” I swallow. “When I was a teenager, I cut my hair like a pixie in hopes that it would drive guys in the opposite direction.”
“Did it work?”
“Yes and no.” I take another sip. “They definitely made fun of me, but they didn’t stop trying to grab my ass in the hall.”
“I would’ve killed them.” His jaw flexes. “Devon should’ve.”
“Devon wasn’t there. He was in college, as he should have been.”
Besides, that wasn’t the worst thing that happened back then, but I don’t say that. I can’t get into that part of my life with a stranger, and as much as Dev has always said Bennett is his best friend, he hasn’t told him about our family issues. Not that I can blame him. I haven’t told my best friends about those issues either.
“Did he know?”
“Seriously, Bennett, that was a long time ago.” I set my drink down. “Tell me how you started SEVEN.”
“Do you want the honest answer or the one I give the media?”
“Honest.”
“I kept seeing all of these apps and websites that had so much potential but no real brain power behind any, so I got a group of likeminded guys and started offering our services to them. My dad had already worked at a global tech company for years and managed to end up in a position of power, so I asked him to quit and come on board.”
“And he did.” I blink. “Just like that?”
“Just like that. He’s my dad, after all. Wouldn’t your parents do whatever they could to help you out?”
The Trouble With Love: New York Times Bestselling Author Page 6