by Roni Loren
Ramsey cleared his throat and suddenly took an interest in stabbing more kale. “I may have volunteered to be in charge of this season’s charity event for burn victims. And I might have promised a firefighter bachelor auction. And I may have been blindsided when multiple guys got engaged in the last two months and are no longer available. Impatient assholes.”
Hill stared at his friend, the information slowly falling into place and clicking. “Oh, fuck no. You better not be asking what I think you are.”
“Retired firefighters are eligible to participate,” he said quickly. “And dude, you’re a hero. You’d bring in big cash. And—”
“No,” Hill said with a tone of finality. “Not happening. I am not going up there as some pity case to get people to open up their wallets.”
“Pity?” Ramsey frowned. “That’s not what it would be. You remember women used to like you, right?”
Hill didn’t answer.
“Look, man, I guarantee you’ll get bids that have nothing to do with pity. And really, it’s not even a true bachelor auction anymore. The chief put all kinds of limitations on the event because she thinks the auction tradition is in poor taste. She told us we have to come up with a new tradition next year. So you don’t even have to go out on a date with the winner. All you’d have to do is take the person to the party we have planned afterward in the same building. A little conversation, a little karaoke. All in good fun.”
Hill shook his head. “You’re bent if you think I’m going to do this.”
“I’m a genius actually,” Ramsey said, undeterred. “Beyond helping the charity, this could help with your problem with your neighbor. Hanging out with some woman at the auction who doesn’t mean anything to you can be a good practice run. Because the woman is going to know it’s just for fun and that there are no expectations. You’ll just part ways after the party.”
Hill grimaced. The thought of being onstage, his story being paraded out in front of a crowd made his stomach twist. “I will pay you what you think I’d get at the event, and you can donate it directly to the fund. I’m not up for more than that. Having to make small talk with some stranger who paid for time with me sounds like a special kind of torture.”
Ramsey pressed his lips together, clearly frustrated now. “I don’t just need the money. I need the slot filled.” He gave Hill a no-bullshit look. “This is the first time the station has trusted me with such a big event, and I know everyone is probably expecting me to screw up something because…I have a reputation. But I want this charity to have the best event possible and as many donations and press as I can drum up. That fire at that elementary school last year left a lot of kids with scars and injuries that require a lot of additional surgeries, and all those medical bills are draining their parents’ bank accounts. I want to hand all of them a big pile of money. And I’m not going to be able to do that if I don’t have a solid list of eligible firefighters and a sold-out event.”
Hill’s breath sagged out of him at the words and the honest desperation on his friend’s face. This charity did mean a lot, and families were counting on Ramsey to pull it off. Fuck. How the hell was he supposed to say no to that?
But how could he say yes to being onstage, being paraded around like a hero, being expected to be energetic and upbeat and positive at a party with some stranger when it took almost every ounce of energy he had some days just to get the hell out of bed?
He ran a hand over the back of his head, anxiety trying to take over, but then an idea came to him. One that might at least solve part of the problem. He ran the scenario in his head, trying to imagine it. Yeah. Maybe he could do that.
He’d need help, though.
Ramsey looked at him expectantly. “Come on, man.”
Hill lowered his hand to the table and sighed. “You are going to owe me so big.”
Ramsey broke into a huge smile and set his chin in his hands, fluttering his eyelashes like a starstruck cartoon character. “You’re my hero, Hill.”
“Oh, go to hell.”
Ramsey chuckled. “Auction’s next Saturday. Wear something cute.”
Hill flipped him off.
***
Andi leaned closer to her microphone and adjusted the angle of it. The door to the podcasting room at WorkAround was sealed tight, and the room as quiet as a tomb. “Gina Holiday thought the new guy in her life was too good to be true. He treated her like no other guy she’d ever met. Polite. Respectful. Good listener. David was a breath of fresh air. She thought she had finally found the one.
“But she had no idea that David was simply setting the trap. He would spend the next few months expertly brainwashing her, isolating her from her friends and family, and getting her more and more tied to him and less and less tied to things and people who could help her get away. What felt like falling in love ended up being falling into the hands of a sociopath.”
Andi paused the recording and took a sip of water, her throat dry. Gina Holiday’s story was a little too close for comfort to Andi’s own story. While reading through the events of Gina’s life, instead of imagining the face of the victim, Andi was picturing her own. That innocent, wide-eyed girl who’d been high on the feelings of a teenage crush. That feeling of He likes me, he really likes me! coursing through her like a drug.
Ugh.
She hit the record button again. “I’m going to pause here in Gina’s story for a second. I just want to say to all of you who are out there listening to this, especially those of you who are still teenagers, that you should never feel…lucky that some guy or girl loves you—like they are somehow above you and, wow, are giving you a shot to be with them. You, whoever you are, are amazing and worthy of love. See the people you date as equals.” She took a breath. “This is not to blame the victim. I’ve been that girl who felt ‘special’—I’m putting air quotes around that—because some ‘cool’ guy deemed me worthy of his attention. It didn’t work out well. So this is meant to be more of a PSA on the importance of nurturing your self-esteem. Love doesn’t work if both people aren’t on even ground. We’re all human with good qualities and flaws. No one gets to be on a pedestal. Putting someone high up on one in a relationship makes it too easy for them to crush you.”
Andi’s phone screen lit silently with a text. She paused her recording and grabbed her phone.
Hill: Hey there. I know you’ve been swamped, but on the off chance that you still require food, want to get together for dinner tonight? I can make dragon noodles and bring them over.
Andi smiled at the invitation. She and Hill chatted or texted daily now but hadn’t had a chance to get together since their movie night almost two weeks ago because she’d been so busy. Hanging out with Hill would be a welcome respite from what she’d been doing, but then she glanced at the notes and papers in front of her and sighed.
Andi: Ooh, dragon noodles sound intriguing. But I’m still at WorkAround and have two hours left on my rental time for the podcast room. It’s booked solid tomorrow so I’m stuck here for a while.
Hill: Bummer on the late night. Maybe tomorrow then.
She started to type back that tomorrow sounded good, but then another idea hit her.
Andi: How would you feel about coming here? I’ll order some delivery and we could have dinner. I could give you that tour, too.
Hill: Yeah?
Andi: If you’re willing to come out this way. Dinner with you would be a nice carrot at the end of this stick. This podcast episode is wringing me out. Really sad story.
Hill: :( I’m sorry. And yes, I can come to you. What time?
Andi: 7:30? I’ll send you the address.
Hill: Great. See you then.
Andi texted him the address and set her phone down. She still had hours of work ahead of her and the most gruesome part of Gina’s story to get through, but suddenly, she felt ten times lighter than she had a few minutes ago
.
Not only was Hill going to come out here and have dinner with her, but this also told her something she’d been wondering about in the back of her mind. He was coming here simply to hang out with her. She’d been worried after movie night that now that they’d taken semi-naked steps, it would become an expected part of their get-togethers—which may have been one reason why she’d used her busyness to turn down the last few invites—but Hill was proving that her fears were unfounded. Because they certainly weren’t going to be getting naked at WorkAround.
Andi glanced over at the spongy acoustic tiles on the soundproof walls, and unbidden images flooded her brain. Hill pushing her up against the soft wall, his mouth on her neck, his hands sliding beneath her dress, his fingers finding the edge of her panties.
A full-body flush cascaded through her, and she leaned back in her chair, her body liking the images too much.
Nope. Down, girl. Not happening.
She closed her eyes and shoved the dirty movie from her mind. She needed to keep her head together. Starved libido or not, she couldn’t afford to let her hormones fog her brain when it came to Hill. “Blinded by lust” was a saying for a reason.
They were friends.
They were going to have dinner.
That was it.
Back to work.
Chapter Sixteen
Andi grabbed two Topo Chicos from the coffee-bar counter and thanked Dwight, the new WorkAround barista, before turning to Hill, who’d arrived right on time looking like a sexy mirage in the desert after the marathon of finishing her podcast. She handed him his drink. “When you rent space here, you get two free drinks a day. My friend Jasper used to make the best iced coffees, but he’s leveled up and bought an improv theater, so now I’m working on training Dwight. He’s a sweet guy, but if you don’t watch him, he puts too much milk in everything. Luckily, he can’t mess up mineral water.”
“Thanks.” Hill accepted the drink and glanced around the bottom floor of WorkAround, his gaze bouncing from one thing to the next in the high-ceilinged, industrial-style space. The sound of clicking keyboards filled the air, and many of the hot desks were still occupied with people wearing headphones or AirPods and nursing coffee drinks even at this late hour. “So all these people are just doing their own thing?”
Andi walked alongside him, matching his slower, methodical pace and continuing her mini-tour. “Many are one-person operations, entrepreneurs, that kind of thing. Some may work for a company but work remotely and don’t want to or can’t work from home. Some have day jobs and rent a hot desk for a few hours at night or on weekends for a side hustle.” She pointed. “Alyssa over there is a social media manager for a number of popular online sites.” She nodded toward someone else. “That guy with the fedora—he’s got a YouTube channel about board games—but during the day he’s a dental hygienist. Tyra, the gorgeous woman with the messy bun, she’s got a popular beauty-based Instagram channel, but comes here a few days a week to work on the behind-the-scenes aspects of her business. She’s got a ridiculous number of sponsors, so I’m sure getting that all coordinated each week takes a lot of time.”
Hill listened intently as they walked. “You know all these people?”
Andi sipped her drink, the glass bottle already sweating even in the air-conditioned space. “Not all of them. I try to meet as many people as I can, but the hot desks rotate so much that there are always new faces. Some people’s ventures fail and they can’t afford the rent anymore. Some move on to more permanent arrangements or move into an office upstairs. Some go off the grid and hike for a year. Whatever. The first floor is very transient.”
Hill shook his head. “This makes me feel really old.”
She laughed and gave him a quick once-over. He’d gone for his standard uniform of a T-shirt—green this time—and well-fitting jeans for this visit, and was looking like all her best fantasies of him. “Yes, Hill, you’re ancient. You’re what? Thirty?”
“Thirty-one,” he said, “but in spirit, I feel ancient compared to these people—to you. I can’t imagine flying by the seat of my pants with my job. That seems terrifying.”
“Oh, it is,” she said with a humorless laugh. “I pretty much live with the daily fear that it will all crumble beneath me at any time. As my landlord, you didn’t hear that.”
His lips tipped up. “Of course not.”
“But when I think of doing something else? Some nine-to-five thing that I don’t feel passionate about? I just… I’d rather eat ramen and wait tables until I got on my feet again if what I’m doing now stops working.” She pushed the button for the elevator. “I grew up in a family where money was basically everything. My parents have a lot of it, but it’s never enough. They always want more. Status is everything. Appearances are more important than reality. I want no part of that.”
He glanced her way. “What do they think of what you do?”
She rolled her eyes as the elevator doors opened, and they both stepped inside. She pressed the button for the second floor. “They tell people I’m studying literature at Tulane.”
“What?” He leaned back, grabbing the rail on the wall behind him, and flexed his knee as if loosening it up. “You’re a published author.”
“Of utter trash, Hill,” she said patiently, using her mother’s heavy Georgia accent. “Not of respectable books an educated young woman should be writing. There’s violence and blood and sex, oh my. Things a proper young lady shouldn’t speak of, much less put in print. What did we send her to college for anyway? What a waste.”
He grimaced. “That’s messed up.”
The doors opened on to the second floor, the blast of air-conditioning hitting them in the face. “Yeah, I know, but I’ll never convince them they’re wrong. They think I write what I write because of what happened to me—an incident they’d like to pretend never occurred—so it’s a constant reminder. Thanksgiving is fun. We get to play pretend.”
He frowned as he followed her out. “I’m sorry.”
“Thanks. It’s okay. I’m used to it. I can’t live up to their expectations, and they can’t live up to mine.” She shrugged. “We’re at an impasse.”
“Well, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a badass,” he said, falling into step beside her. “I finished your book this afternoon. I never saw the twist at the end coming. You’re really talented.”
The compliment pleased her more than she would’ve expected, warming her from the inside out. She stopped in the hallway and turned to him, hand on hip. “You sure you’re not saying that just because you want to make out with me?”
He leaned down as if he were going to whisper a secret to her. “I’m saying it because it’s true. And I also want to make out with you. Those two truths can exist together, you know.”
“Oh.” A hot shiver went through her. “Well, thank you. On both.”
“You’re welcome.”
She took his hand. “Come on. I want to show you something.”
“Your office?”
“Later. First, I have a little surprise,” she said, sending him a cryptic smile as they began walking again.
His expression shifted into one of concern. “Now I’m worried.”
She laughed. “Don’t be. Trust me. This won’t hurt a bit.”
She led him down the hallway, stopping at Hollyn’s door. She knocked, and she could see her friend wave her in through the narrow window next to the door. Andi opened the door and tugged Hill in with her.
Hollyn smiled, her gaze jumping briefly to Hill and then back to Andi. “Hey.”
“Hey,” Andi said cheerfully. “I wanted to introduce you to my friend, Hill. He’s the neighbor I was telling you about.” She released Hill’s hand. “Hill, this is Hollyn. She’s a local entertainment writer and podcaster. You may know her as Miz Poppy.”
Hill’s brows lifted. “Miz Poppy. I use
d to read your posts on the NOLA Vibe. They were great.” He stepped forward and put out his hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Hollyn’s facial tics went through a little dance, but she maintained her smile and shook Hill’s hand. “Thanks. Nice to meet you, too.”
A bolt of pride went through Andi, seeing her friend so much more at ease than when she’d first met her. Hollyn had done a lot of hard work to manage her social anxiety, and it was goddamned inspiring. If her friend could make that much progress, surely Andi could figure out how to take some steps of her own. “So,” she said, catching Hollyn’s eye, “everything arrived okay?”
Hollyn sat back down and nodded. “Yep. All arrived as planned. You should be good to go.”
Andi leaned down and gave Hollyn a little side hug, being careful not to spill her Topo Chico. “Thanks, lady. You’re the best.”
Hill looked between the two of him, clearly growing suspicious. “What was planned?”
Andi popped up. “Welp. I think we better get out of here and let Hollyn get back to work so she can get home.”
Hill sent Hollyn a look. “Should I be scared?”
Hollyn’s nose scrunched. “With Andi, you should always be a little bit scared. But in a good way. Like a roller coaster.”
Andi laughed. “She’s not wrong.” She grabbed Hill’s hand again, liking that she could do so without overthinking it. “Thanks again, Holls.”
“Have fun,” she said as Andi and Hill walked out.
Hill went willingly, but a few steps down the hallway he asked, “Are you going to tell me what’s up?”
“Better to show you.” She turned a corner and went down a hallway she rarely had reason to travel. The double doors on the right had a clipboard hanging outside of them with the printout of who had reserved that room for which times.
When she stopped in front of it, Hill turned with her and read the label above the door. “The Test Kitchen.”
Andi bit her lip and turned to him, hoping he would be happy instead of frustrated by the surprise. “So, I know I said I was going to order takeout, but I may have asked Hollyn to book the test kitchen for us tonight, and I may have had some groceries delivered.”