I’d decided to blow the clothing budget today. Our investment account profits were still climbing. I’d told Jamie quite a few times that it felt wrong for me to share in the profits, since he’d provided the seed money, and since it was his expertise making the trades.
But he wouldn’t listen. He said he’d already made back the seed money and a deal was a deal. I was getting my half.
I’d given up fighting.
If he was going to insist, then I supposed I’d accept it. I pictured myself Christmas shopping this year with a lavish budget and so many choices to surprise my family and friends.
And maybe I’d buy a couple of fancy outfits. Or maybe some not-so-fancy outfits. I could buy some of those deceptively casual clothes that were high quality and well made. To other people, they simply looked good. The secret was that they made you look good.
I was beginning to realize that Brooklyn and Sophie were onto something. There was a difference in quality and flair as you moved up the price range. Sometimes it seemed subtle, but it was real.
Last Sunday when I wore the black jeans to Angelo’s, a dozen guys turned their heads when I walked to the ladies’ room. Nobody had pointed, at least not that I saw. But many of them had followed me along, appreciative gazes on their faces.
Ironically, Ethan hadn’t been one of them. Although Sophie kept trying, Ethan and I were never going to connect.
He connected better with Sophie than he did with me. I supposed that had a lot to do with their business venture. But still, his expression lit up for her and stayed flat for me.
Sometimes I thought Bryce saw that. Sometimes I thought Bryce got annoyed.
Sophie seemed like the only one who didn’t notice.
After the outing at Angelo’s, I vowed that if she suggested another double date, I was going to be frank with her and refuse. I wanted to spend girl time with Sophie. I wanted to hear more about her business venture. It was obvious she was really excited about that. But I hoped I could do it without spending another uncomfortable evening with Ethan.
I could tell Ethan had a crush on her. But I didn’t want to throw that kind of a grenade into the Sweet Tech business venture. If Bryce didn’t want to address it, there was no value in me addressing it. I would probably make things worse by telling her.
Jamie beat me to Brookswood and was waiting outside the main door.
“Hi,” I said, feeling suddenly breathless.
He looked sexy, handsome and aloof.
“Hi,” he said back and immediately turned for the door.
He held it open for me and I once again entered the rarefied environment of high-end shopping.
After a few steps, I opened the conversation. “Did you have a nice day?”
“It was fine.” His strides were long and I had to hurry to keep up.
“So was mine.”
“Good. Do you want to start with office wear, casual wear, a jacket? The weather’s going to turn soon.”
The weather? We were going to talk about the weather?
“Jamie?”
“Hmm?”
“What’s going on?”
He looked down at me. But he wasn’t seeing me, not really.
“What?” he asked.
“Something’s wrong. What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. We’re shopping. You’re right. We both need a more extensive new wardrobe. I hope you’re not planning to bargain hunt.”
“I’m not. You’ve convinced me to spend the investment profits. At least, you’ve convinced Tasha to spend the investment profits. Turns out she’s not as scrupulous as me.”
I expected him to laugh at my joke, but he didn’t.
“You are Tasha,” he said.
“You know what I mean.”
“And it’s not unscrupulous to spend money that belongs to you. What about shirtdresses? I read they’re a thing.”
“Jamie, stop.”
He clamped his jaw, but he stopped.
“Look at me.”
He turned, the aloof expression firmly in place.
“Is it the kiss?” I asked, tired of feeling jumpy, tired of trying to guess how he felt about it.
From the way he was acting, I could definitely guess he regretted it.
I pushed myself forward. “Are you being like this because we kissed each other?”
He didn’t answer. And he sure didn’t look happy that I’d brought it up.
I wanted to let him off the hook, to show him it was no big deal and I hadn’t been obsessing about it—which, of course, I had, like every second since it happened.
“It was a kiss,” I said. “A simple kiss. People do that. We were working together. We were happy. Plus, we’ve been, you know, turning each other into the image we think will attract the opposite sex.” As I framed up my explanation, I decided it was pretty good. “All that kiss meant was that it’s working. It’s working, and that’s a good thing. Hey, you should have seen the guys react to me at Angelo’s on Sunday night.”
Jamie sucked in a breath.
So did I. I needed oxygen to keep on talking. “They liked my look. A lot of them liked my look. As for you and me, well, it would be weird if we weren’t a little bit attracted to each other. Don’t you think that’s true? And we were. And we kissed. And it’s over. It doesn’t have to mean a thing. It doesn’t have to make you go all...” I gestured up and down at his posture. “I don’t know, James-the-uptight on me.”
“I’m not uptight.” But he said it through teeth that were kind of clenched.
“I doesn’t have to mean anything,” I repeated. “It doesn’t have to change anything. I don’t want it to change anything.”
I really, really didn’t want anything to change between us, and I was afraid that I’d already blown it. These past few weeks had been the most enlightening, exciting and downright fun of my life. I didn’t want to lose Jamie, and I desperately hoped my unbridled reaction to his kiss hadn’t done just that.
He stayed silent for a moment. “It didn’t change anything.”
I felt a tiny hint of relief. “Then smile or something.”
He tried, but it didn’t come off.
I decided to keep it light and hope against hope that tactic would work. “Well, that’s pathetic. The Jamie I know would blow past a little kiss in a heartbeat.”
“You call that a little kiss?” he asked.
“I do.”
We stared at each other for a moment.
He seemed to be daring me to do something or say something. But I couldn’t tell what he wanted.
I took a stab. “I want to stay friends, Jamie. I really don’t want to lose what we have.”
His expression finally relaxed just a little bit. “Neither do I.”
“Good.” I was relieved, and I was glad. I didn’t dare say anything more.
Instead, I glanced past him to the racks behind. “I don’t really want a shirtdress.”
“No shirtdress then,” he said. “How about a jacket?”
I wouldn’t say the shopping trip was the best time we’d ever had. We were still tippy-toeing around each other. But at least it was successful. We both left the store with armloads of new clothes, shoes and some jewelry for me.
Jamie got a text while we were paying and asked if I minded stopping at his office.
I easily agreed, not yet feeling like we were back on normal ground.
We drove over and parked in the company garage in a spot labeled for Jamie.
His key fob opened the doors, and an elevator whisked us to the thirty-second floor.
Aaron was sitting at a desk in the open office area.
There were a couple of other people in the distance, but otherwise the office was empty and quiet.
“Tell me exactly what Bernard said,” Jamie said t
o Aaron.
“You didn’t have to come all the way in,” Aaron said.
“I assume it was you who changed his mind.”
“A lot of things changed his mind. He thought about it, and he decided he’s willing to take the chance.”
“He never should have been put in this predicament in the first place. Watch and learn, Aaron. How hard is it to understand the concept of watch and learn?”
Jamie was angry.
I didn’t know what to do with myself.
I felt awful just standing here listening to the argument, but there wasn’t an easy way for me to escape. It was a long walk back to the elevators, and I wasn’t sure where I would go from there. All the offices around the periphery of the space were closed. Not that I’d randomly walk into somebody’s office.
“Rehashing it isn’t going to help,” Aaron said in obvious frustration.
Jamie clenched his jaw. “Then give me a path forward. You set this up. What’s your solution?”
Aaron stood. “It’s done, so we roll with it.”
Jamie coughed out a laugh. “Go public on Monday without doing due diligence?”
“It’s going to work, James.” Aaron’s tone was emphatic now. “I know in my gut that it’s going to work.”
“We’re not trusting your gut. Your gut’s only two months old.”
“What about your gut?” Aaron asked.
The question seemed to throw Jamie.
“What does your gut tell you?”
I could see that Jamie didn’t want to answer. I had to wonder if it was because he disagreed with Aaron or because he agreed with Aaron.
For some reason, he looked at me.
I tried to give him an encouraging smile, even though I had no idea what he was thinking.
The last thing he might want is for me to be happy when he was so obviously frustrated.
I wasn’t happy about his frustration, of course.
But I was curious about the obvious struggle going on inside his head.
“I’m not recording this,” Aaron said.
Jamie glared at him.
“Gut reaction.” Aaron shrugged. “What could it hurt to say it out loud?”
“It’ll work,” Jamie said.
“There we go.” Aaron smiled.
“No, there we don’t go.”
“Do you want me to explain gut reactions to you?” Aaron asked.
“No,” Jamie drawled. “I do not want you to explain gut reactions to me.”
“They’re made up of subtle signals, information that you don’t even know you know. It happens deep in your subconscious.”
“What part of no did you miss?”
“It’s not your gut working, James. It’s your brain, your whole brain, the deep recesses of your entire brain. You know the answer. You just don’t like working without the data on paper, driving without a seat belt.”
“Jumping without a parachute,” Jamie said. “And I change my mind all the time based on the data on paper.”
“How do you do the short-term stuff?” I asked.
I thought I was being helpful, but Jamie shot me the same glare as he’d shot Aaron.
I wasn’t being helpful.
“That’s completely different,” he said. “You know that. I explained that.”
He had.
But I didn’t see it being completely different. Then again, what did I know? I was a librarian, not an economist.
“Sorry,” I said. I was.
“Bernard will ask for our recommendation in the morning,” Aaron said.
Seconds ticked by.
“What do we say?” Aaron asked.
More seconds ticked by. I thought Jamie wasn’t going to answer.
“Recommend the IPO,” he said. His tone made the words sound painful.
“All right!” Aaron shouted and made a fist.
“Don’t get cocky,” Jamie said. “And if this goes bad...”
“It’s on me.” Aaron nodded.
“No, it’s on me. Because that’s the way it works.”
Now I was nervous. I hated to think I might have pushed Jamie toward a decision he wasn’t comfortable with.
“Jamie, if you’re not—”
“Relax, Tasha. You didn’t talk me into anything.”
I swallowed.
Aaron spoke up. “The mighty James Gillen isn’t one to take his girlfriend’s advice.”
Jamie’s tone was cutting. “You don’t know whose advice I’ll take.”
Then he turned to me. He looked tired, and his voice lost its edge. “Come on, Tasha. I’ll drive you home.”
* * *
Rock climbing training was uneventful on Saturday. It felt like our relationship was somewhat back on an even keel, and I told myself to be happy about that.
I didn’t have any plans for Saturday night. I was disappointed that I wouldn’t get to take any of my new, new clothes out for a test-drive. I’d bought this dusty blue tufted blouse and a short, blotchy, dusty-blue-and-pink-patterned skirt that I was dying to wear somewhere. It was set off with a wide black satin sash, and I’d bought oversize pearl earrings and a necklace to go with it.
It was softly romantic, and totally not me. I wasn’t completely sure it was Tasha either, but I was willing to give it a shot. Both the salesclerk at Brookswood and Jamie had said it was a “must.”
Who was I to say no to a “must”?
But it wasn’t going to be this weekend.
I told myself it was just as well. I still had a lot of work to do on my apartment. If I pushed myself I could get the pumpkin—it turned out that was a very popular color—trim done today. Then I could put my furniture back and feel normal again.
Well, the new normal, of course.
I really did like the way the paint was turning out. It felt fresh and alive. I found it energizing to be at home.
If I worked hard, I’d be ready to start on the floors. I’d already picked up samples of stone and wood laminate. Not all of the brands were expensive, especially if you shopped carefully.
I liked the stone patterns best. It gave you the greatest range of color options.
So, Sunday morning, I dressed in paint clothes. I’d picked up a white cap at the hardware store, and I folded my hair underneath. I wasn’t going to risk globs of pumpkin orange in my hair.
I’d masked stripes on the top and bottom of the walls, plus a wide box around each window.
I shook the paint bucket, pried it open, gave it a stir and then held my breath.
The butter yellow and russet brown were pretty low-risk colors. The orange on the other hand was going to pop. I felt like that first stroke was a momentous decision.
There was a knock on my door.
I gave myself a split second to wonder if it was a sign. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to paint bright orange on my walls.
The knock came again.
I balanced the brush across the top of the open can, half-relieved by the interruption and half-annoyed that I was being given a chance to change my mind. I didn’t want to change my mind. I wanted to dive wholeheartedly into my new bright orange life.
I opened the door to find Jamie standing there with two coffees and a paper bag from Penelope’s Bakery.
His appearance took me by surprise. When he’d said goodbye yesterday he didn’t say anything about helping me again. Not that I wouldn’t say yes to the help. I’d really appreciate it.
Then again, he might not be here to help at all. He could be here for something completely unrelated to my apartment renovations. I shouldn’t be so presumptuous.
“Hungry?” he asked.
“Why are you here?” I sounded rude. “I mean, sure, yes, I’m hungry.”
He rattled the bag. “Fresh bagels.”
“I was just starting to paint,” I said.
“Then I’m right on time.” He moved forward, and I got out of the way.
“I didn’t know you were coming,” I said as I closed the door.
I was positive he hadn’t said anything yesterday.
“Spur-of-the-moment. I stopped by Penelope’s. The blueberry bagels made me think of you.”
“Blueberry bagels? Really?” I couldn’t for the life of me see the connection.
“Okay, it was the giant éclair in the refrigerated case. It reminded me of that time at the Orchid Club.”
I remembered the decadent dessert we’d shared on that first reconnaissance foray outside the Orchid Club. We’d ordered mini cream puffs drizzled with chocolate and caramel sauce. I’d eaten the lion’s share, and Jamie had teased me about my enthusiasm.
“But I thought it might be a bit much for breakfast, so I went with the bagels.”
“Too bad,” I said, only half joking.
Chocolate and pastry cream was my weakness.
“I can go back,” he said.
“No, probably a good call. I don’t want to go into a sugar coma before I finish painting.”
Jamie handed me one of the coffee cups and looked around. “Seems like you’re all set to go.”
I decided coffee and fresh bagels would be worth the delay in starting. I took one end of the uncovered sofa that was angled in the middle of the room.
Jamie sat on the other end and put the bag of bagels between us.
“I’m hoping to finish today,” I said.
Then I remembered the flooring samples and hopped back up, going to the kitchen counter where I’d left them.
“Take a look at these,” I said as I carried them over to him.
Jamie had opened the bag and extracted a bagel. Both his hands were occupied.
“After you finish,” I said and helped myself to a bagel.
“You’ve inspired me,” he said.
“With flooring samples?” I grinned as I took a bite. It was awesome. “Mmm.”
“With your willingness to change your life,” he said.
The Dating Dare (Gambling Men Book 2) Page 12