She's Got Dibs

by AJ Nuest

  Now if she could just get him out of here, she was golden. “I have to get up really early tomorrow,” she called. “Maybe we should call it a night.”

  He reappeared from the hall, his squint tightening toward full-on suspicion. “Okay,” he said hesitantly. “Do you want me to drop the movies back at the video store?”

  “Sure.” Devious glee surged and bore down on her as she gathered the DVDs. But she would blow the whole thing if she started laughing! She chuckled and put a hand on her chest, deeply inhaling. “Here you go.” She handed him the bag. “Thanks for the movie night.”

  “That’s okay.” He shrugged into his jacket, retrieved his sweater, and stepped into his loafers.

  She led him to the front door, face concreted in a pleasant smile, but dismay threatened and a snicker tried to burst past her lips when he turned in the threshold and frowned.

  “Are you sure you aren’t mad?”

  “Dibs, really.” She laughed softly. “It was just a movie. No harm done.”

  “All right, then.” He waved, flashing the red polish, and ambled down the hall toward the elevator.

  She closed the door behind him, buried her face in her hands and laughed and laughed and laughed.

  Chapter Eight

  An impish grin in place, Tessa pushed through the office door and raced for the ringing telephone. “TNT Entertainment, this is Tessa,” she answered without setting down her briefcase or purse.

  “Very. Funny.”

  She laughed at Dibs’s dry sarcasm, propping a hip against the edge of her desk. “You so deserved that. In fact, I planned a complete manicure. You’re lucky you woke up.”

  “How does a person remove fingernail polish, anyway?”

  “Oh my God, you’re still wearing it?” She laughed even harder, his low chuckle the perfect bass undertone in her ear.

  “I knew you were up to something. I could tell by that innocent smile on your face.”

  She swiveled when the front doorbell rang and waved when Tiffany entered. “Yeah, well, you still owe me a movie. Don’t think one painted fingernail even begins to make up for falling asleep.”

  “Maybe I’ll just leave it on. What do you think? Is red my color?”

  “I think it looks…” She smirked. “Sexy.” She dropped the phone in the cradle, delivered her purse and coat to the back of the door and headed into Tiffany’s office. “Good morning.”

  “Who was that on the phone?” Tiffany’s elbow remained propped on her desk, a curl of steam wafting skyward from the coffee cup in her hand.

  “Just Dibs.”

  “At eight o’clock on Monday morning?”

  “He called about something that happened this weekend.” Tessa perched on the arm of a chair, dismissing Tiffany’s comment with a wave.

  Intrigue jacked up one of her eyebrows. “What exactly did happen this weekend?”

  “No, no, nothing like that. I painted his fingernail red.”

  She sputtered and choked into her cup. “What?”

  “He fell asleep while we were watching movies yesterday, so I painted his fingernail red.”

  “While you were watching movies,” she repeated. A clever spark skipped through her eyes. “I don’t know, Tessa. Dinner on Friday, then movies Sunday. This is getting serious. You’d better watch out.”

  Tessa chewed the inside of her cheek. Dare she open this can of worms? “We went to dinner Saturday, too.”

  Tiffany froze. She blinked.

  “What? We enjoy each other’s company. What can I say?”

  “I enjoy Kevin’s company,” she offered.

  Tessa crossed her arms. “You know, you’ve really got this whole snotty routine down to a science.”

  “Come on, Tessa.” Tiffany sat forward, fingers laced around the middle of her cup. “You can’t tell me after the night you described in that hotel room, having sex with Dibs hasn’t entered your mind at least once.”

  “I never said it didn’t.” In fact, that very idea had traversed the ol’ gray matter more times than she cared to count. She crossed her legs, her foot bouncing of its own volition. “Our relationship is just different now. The sex thing is…well, it’s off the table, and to be really honest, a part of me is relieved it’s no longer an issue.” Albeit that part seemed to be shrinking by the minute. But lying awake in bed the previous night, more had weighed heavy on her mind than just her persistent aversion to heartbreak. “The truth is for a really long time I’ve used sex as a defense mechanism…maybe even a form of self-inflicted punishment. And I like how Dibs is separate from all that. I don’t want my past errors in judgment connected to him…in any way. Does that make sense?”

  Tiffany nodded, lips turned down at the corners. “In a strange way, yes. That makes total sense.”

  “Good, because we’ve got work to do.” Tessa pushed up from the chair, but then hesitated, crouched over, focused on her friend from under her brows. “That is, if you’re ready to let the subject of Dibs go and everything.”

  She laughed. “Sure.”

  They spent the morning mapping out the Richardson-DuClerque wedding, working backward from the wedding date until the calendar was complete. But in reality, the activity was filler. Today was the day. BFG was slated to call, and depending on their verdict regarding Tessa’s presentation, TNT’s reputation would either skyrocket through the roof, or she and Tiff would end up consoling themselves, still struggling to grow their business one client at a time.

  The anticipation built as the hours passed, a constant prickling in the back of Tessa’s brain. She occupied the time by confirming some appointments on her calendar, and then called the distributor to check on the three hundred boxes of chocolate truffles she had ordered for the Sandburg wedding. He assured her they would arrive by Wednesday, so she slid that file to the side.

  Phone calls completed and desktop cleared, she glanced at her clock to find it was after noon. She shoved away from her desk and ambled over to Tiffany’s open doorway. “Hungry?”

  The phone rang.

  Tiffany snatched the receiver off the base. “TNT Entertainment.” She pinpointed Tessa from across the room and waved her into the office. “Hello, Mrs. Henderson, how are you?”

  On stilted legs, Tessa came forward and sank into a chair, a tight wedge of nervous dread lodged in her chest.

  “Fine, thanks.”

  She rolled her eyes.

  “Yes, well, thank you. We were certainly hoping you did.”

  She sat forward, hands open at her sides. “What?” she mouthed.

  “Very good.” Tiffany held up a finger. “We’ll be in touch soon then. Thank you so much for the call.” She gently lowered the receiver into the cradle. “We got it,” she said quietly.

  Tessa collapsed in the chair. “We got it.”

  “We got it,” Tiffany repeated, rising to her feet. She smiled, then grinned, and then she laughed, clasping her hands in front of her chest.

  Tessa sprang to her feet, meeting her best friend when she hurried around the side of her desk. They grabbed each other in a tight hug, squealing and jumping as one.

  “I can’t believe it! This is too incredible!” Tiffany stepped back from their embrace, cheeks flushed, eyes alight with excitement.

  Tessa clenched and shook Tiffany’s shoulders. “Do you have any idea how busy we’re going to get? We may even have to hire someone!”

  “Or two someones!”

  The extent of such an undertaking was huge! She gasped and slapped a palm to her forehead. “Oh my God. Okay. Enough messing around. We’ve got so much work to do.”

  The two rosy apples in Tiffany’s cheeks plumped even further when she grinned. “You know, you really are a buzz kill.”

  The rest of the day, Tessa threw all her focus into the start-up stages for the event. She set up a calendar program, blocking in the scheduled BFG seminars; she prepared binders, pulled menus, and made lists. When the phone rang around four, she lunged for the receiver, hoping the
caller was Dibs so she could share their good news.

  “Hey, great job! We should all go out and celebrate,” he suggested.

  “You know what? We should go out and celebrate. Tiff and I don’t do that for ourselves enough. Hold on a second.” She crossed reception and notched a shoulder against the threshold of Tiffany’s open doorway. “Feel like celebrating? Dibs wants to take us for dinner.”

  “He’s on.” Pen in hand, Tiffany pointed across her desk. “But tell him we should bring Kevin.”

  Tessa picked up Tiffany’s handset and jabbed the blinking line. “Pick us up at six. And Tiffany asked to have her boyfriend join us.”

  “Six it is.” The smile in Dibs’s voice was a welcome caress against her ear.

  ****

  The heavy bottle tipped in her hand like one of those continuous drinking birds. A dark red stain crept out from under the stem of her wineglass.

  “Oops.” Tessa fumbled the wine back to the table, carefully steadying the bottle before withdrawing.

  Dibs leaned over. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Flipping a hand in his direction, she reclined heavily in the chair and scanned the opulent décor of the Italian restaurant, the elegant patrons, the gold fleur-de-lis pattern in the carpeting—anything to keep her focus off the other end of the table.

  In truth, Tessa couldn’t remember a time she’d been so far removed from fine. An awkward stiffness had settled in her shoulders, and no matter what she did, she couldn’t shake it.

  Where had her head been, thinking dinner with Tiffany and Kevin would be fun? The way they smiled at each other. How they held hands under the table. And now she was stuck, forced into some weird double date she never agreed to, the constant reminder she and Dibs were “just friends” sitting directly across the table from her.

  She tipped back her glass and drank deep.

  He slanted his head toward her plate. “You aren’t hungry?”

  The food sat untouched, her stomach filled with knots. She glanced at him and that same sharp pang of guilt hit her square in the chest. She stretched her lips in the facsimile of a smile. “I’m fine.”

  He nodded uncertainly before rejoining the ongoing conversation with a clever quip. Tiffany and Kevin both hooted, their hands pounding the table.

  A heavy sigh ruffled Tessa’s lips. Dibs was so charming, a complete doll, while here she sat with nothing to say. She gulped another mouthful of wine, braced her chin in her hand.

  That horrible elevator ride was when it started. Tiffany and Kevin had kissed, gazing into each other’s eyes in that special way they shared. Tessa saw it, so had Dibs. She could tell by the way he locked onto her reflection in the door. Within the depths of his blue-gray eyes lingered the memory of their own kiss, in their own elevator.

  She drained her wine, smoothed her skirt and recrossed her legs. The stiffness remained. She topped off her glass.

  Tiffany caressed Kevin’s leg, whispered something in his ear, and he answered her with a tender kiss.

  And then that ridiculous conversation in the bathroom. Tessa’s stomach lurched. The way Tiffany had gone on and on about Dibs. Yes, he was gorgeous. Yes, he was perfect. She got it. She already knew. As if every time he smiled it wasn’t like the sun breaking out from behind the clouds. As if his voice on the other end of the phone wasn’t quickly becoming the highlight of her day.

  A peal of laughter erupted from the table. Tessa scanned the ring of happy faces, and then squinted when her vision doubled and blurred. Uh oh…

  “Are you ready?” Dibs pushed back his chair.

  She shook her head. “What?” Both Tiffany and Kevin waited expectantly behind their chairs, his face displaying a knowing smirk, one of her eyebrows arched in clever assessment of Tessa’s inattentiveness. Apparently dinner was over. “Oh. Sure.”

  She stood, rocking back on her heels when the room spun widely to the left, and then shoved her chair toward the table to get her bearings.

  Dibs’s hand clasped her elbow. “Are you all right?” he whispered.

  “Dibs, I’m fine.” She hiccoughed and quickly pressed two fingertips to her lips. “’Scuse me.” But she couldn’t be drunk! She was a successful business owner. Her life was in complete control. She didn’t get drunk! The floor slanted at a dizzying angle as she staggered toward the exit.

  Inside the dark bubble of Dibs’s car, she repeatedly blinked, fighting to bring the world into focus through the window. Garish lights and bright neon signs swam past, contrasted against the murmuring conversation of Tiffany and Kevin in the back seat. Tessa pinched the bridge of her nose. Too bad she’d not had the foresight to smuggle some wine out of the restaurant.

  Dibs dropped Tiffany and Kevin at their apartment, drove to Tessa’s building, and veered into the circular drive. She leaned down to gather her purse and briefcase from the floor, but came up short when her forehead slammed an invisible barrier. Ouch! Glittering stars swirled through her vision.

  “Oh!” He clasped her shoulder and eased her back from the dash. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine.” Except her keys seemed to have disappeared…and where the hell was the door handle? Maybe they’d gone someplace together. Fumbling around in the dim lighting, she shoved the door open and stepped out, pushed it closed behind her, and—

  A jarring jolt rammed her body. Shit! She closed one eye and the ground teetered dangerously underneath her. Her legs were sprawled in the driveway and she sat eye level with the side of Dibs’s car.

  The slam of a car door punched the front of her building, and a minute later Dibs’s legs appeared in the headlights, coming toward her.

  “Okay.” He squatted and lifted her under the arms. “Let’s get you inside.”

  “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She didn’t need his help. “I jus’ slipped.”

  “All right, why don’t you give me your keys?”

  Offering them up, she stumbled with him toward the revolving door of the building. But, geesh, why did he have to walk so fast? She pushed through the door, accidentally overstepped the entrance, and giggled as the world spun back around to the lobby.

  Dibs snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her to his side.

  “Oomph!” She leaned heavily against him, and then narrowed her eyes when her finger kept jabbing the wall instead of the elevator call button. “I think I dran’ too mush.”

  “I think you’re right.” He smiled down at her and hit the call button himself.

  She sighed. He was so cute. He was so cute and she was a drunk, bumbling idiot. That’s exactly what she was. But it didn’t matter. He was holding her in his arms, his hand pressed to her lower back, and she drank in every moment during the short ride to her floor.

  The elevator binged and the doors slid open. She exited and the hallway reeled when a set of warm hands grabbed her hips and twirled her around, steering her toward her condo.

  He unlocked the door and walked her inside. The wall met her back, but the floor wasn’t so kind, and she slowly descended the slippery slope on legs the consistency of cooked noodles.

  “Whoa.” Her condo door slammed and Dibs lifted her back to her feet.

  He guided her to the couch, knelt in front of her, and pried her shoe from her foot…and his tender concern was simply too much…how this gorgeous hunk of man had found it in his heart to take care of her.

  She placed her hand on his cheek. “You’re sho nice.”

  “I know, Rex.” Long fingers wrapped around her ankle, her second shoe slipped from her heel.

  “Why are you bein’ sho nice to me?”

  “Because I like you.” He held her hand to his cheek, pressed fleeting a kiss to the inside of her palm. Gentle hands clasped her shoulders and brought her forward. His breath brushed her cheek as he urged her coat from her arms.

  Her hand fell from his face, resting lifeless at her side. The room blurred and a visual of Tiffany and Kevin spiraled into focus—smiling at each other, kissing, holding hands,
while she and Dibs sat like a captive audience on the other side of the table. What a disaster. She snorted.

  “What?” Dibs smiled, tugging the cuff at her wrist.

  Her hand tunneled down the inside of her coat sleeve. “I’m sho sorry.” She shook her head. That wasn’t right. “I mean, I’m so shorry.”

  “That’s okay. Everyone drinks too much at some point or another.”

  “No, tha’s not wha’ I meant.” Although, she should probably apologize for that, too. But her words refused to come out right. And the couch had decided to set sail on some perilously rough sea.

  “Then what are you talking about?”

  “Tiffany and Kevin.” She peeked up at him, her other arm channeling down her sleeve. “That dinner was awful.” And she would never do it again. Not ever. She seized his hand, contorting her face into a deep scowl. “No mo’ double dates, ’kay?”

  “Okay.” He chuckled.

  “Promise me, no mo’, ’kay, Dibs?” She wagged her finger at him.

  He dodged the flailing digit and stood. “No more double dates, Rex, I promise.”

  The next instant, she was aloft in his arms—one an unyielding brace under her knees, the other an immovable pillar anchoring her to his chest, his long strides steady and sure down the hallway to her bedroom. She nested her head on his broad shoulder, snuggling close, his cologne mingling with the heady musk of his skin. Not even Michael had ever tended her with such care.

  The bed materialized under her legs and the strength of Dibs’s arms disappeared.

  She gazed up at him. He hadn’t even left yet and already she missed him—that unique someone, a special person she could share her time with…the one on whom she had come to rely.

  He brushed her hair over her shoulder and she shivered when the tips of his fingers skimmed the length of her back.

  A melancholy longing swelled within her, the ache deepening with each beat of her heart. But this was her doing. She was the one who insisted they only be friends. It was her past that denied them a chance at a future.