by Vi Keeland
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
“So what are you going to do with Bryant and Bossman?”
“I need to give things a real try with Bryant. My dating life hasn’t exactly been full of eligible bachelors. I’ve had one relationship that lasted more than two months in the last five years. And you know how that ended. Alec was a nice guy, but he was still so hung up on his ex that he called me Allison every time we were in bed—usually during his grand finale.”
I sighed. “Bryant really seems to be a great guy without baggage. I should just sleep with him and get it over with.”
“Now that sounds like how I’d want the person I was dating to think of having sex with me for the first time. Get it over with.”
Chapter 9
Chase - Seven years ago
Eddie had been missing from his usual spot for three days. After lunch, Peyton made me walk around the neighborhood with her to see if he’d turned up yet. I had a bad feeling after seeing that gash on his head last week. Peyton must have, too. As we rounded the corner, a sense of relief came over me when I saw him. Only he wasn’t alone. He was being hassled by two cops. The taller one—Officer Canatalli, according to the badge on his puffed-out chest—had just kicked Eddie’s feet.
“Afternoon, officers,” I called. “New beat?”
The cop, who wasn’t much older than me, gave Peyton a leering once-over, then squared his shoulders and widened his stance. “You got a problem?”
“No problem. Just usually see Officer Connolly around this block. I work around the corner.” I tilted my head to Eddie. “This is Eddie.”
Peyton added. “Eddie is a friend of mine. I volunteer over at Little East Open Kitchen. It’s a local food bank on—”
“I know where it is. Little thing like yourself shouldn’t be around these type of people. They’re dangerous. You could get hurt.”
I closed my eyes, knowing how Peyton was about to respond.
“They’re dangerous? Don’t you think that’s kind of a generalized statement? It’s no different than talking about Italians and saying they’re all a bunch of mobsters, Officer Canatalli.”
I tried to temper where the conversation was heading. “Eddie here has been getting hassled by some teenagers lately. That’s how he got that gash there on his head. Peyton went down to the precinct to report it, but nothing was done about it.”
“Yet another reason why he shouldn’t be hanging out here on the street. We were just telling him it was time to move on for today. Sergeant wants the street cleaned up.” The cop kicked Eddie’s foot again, and Eddie’s leg recoiled as he balled himself into a position to protect his head.
“Eddie doesn’t like to be touched. He prefers people to keep a few feet away.”
“So do I. That’s why I don’t sit on the sidewalk where someone will physically remove me if I don’t get up.”
Rookie asshole.
“Come on, Eddie. Come with me.” Peyton extended her hand.
Eddie looked at me, then the officers, then back to me before taking her hand to get up. He lifted his black garbage bag over his shoulder. The bag was bulging, and after two steps, a small hole in the bottom spread wide, and everything he owned began to spill onto the sidewalk. The impatient policemen started to complain. They had no compassion.
Peyton had her guitar case slung over her shoulder, and she kneeled down, setting it on the sidewalk, and removed the instrument.
“Here, Eddie. Use this. The case just made it heavy anyway.” She slipped the guitar’s strap over her shoulder, and Eddie eventually bent and stuffed everything into her case.
As we walked back toward my office, I whispered to Peyton, “What are we going to do with him?”
She shrugged and gave me that sweet smile I could never resist. “I don’t know, but there’s plenty of room in that big, new office of yours.”
Chapter 10
Reese
I was busy with work the entire day, although that didn’t keep me from thinking about the boss at random times. It sort of helped to break my day into segments. Work on a tagline for Divine. Daydream about the boss. Research SEO keywords. Daydream about the boss. Lunch. Daydream about the boss. No wonder I was still at work at eight o’clock with all the time I’d slacked off.
When footsteps approached my door, my pulse quickened, anticipating it might be Chase. I hid my disappointment by being extra bubbly.
“Hi, Josh!”
“Burning the midnight oil again, huh?”
“I’m playing catch-up with so many things, and I want to be able to participate. Your team is incredible. They know these products inside out.”
“They are pretty great. But sometimes a fresh look at things wins out over experience. Chase told me two out of the three concepts we’re working with originated from you.”
“It was a team effort.”
He smiled warmly. “Gonna head out. Don’t stay too late.”
“I won’t.”
Just as he turned away, I thought of something I kept forgetting to ask. “Hey, Josh. Do you think we’ll work this weekend? A…friend asked me to go away for the weekend, but I wasn’t sure if you planned to come in or not. Lindsey mentioned that sometimes the team works weekends when they have a big project going on.”
“I don’t think so. But I’ll check with Chase tomorrow, see if he has any plans. He likes to get us out of the office when we do weekend brainstorming sessions.”
“Okay. Thanks. Have a good night.”
A few minutes later, I was shutting down my laptop and packing up my desk when Chase walked in. He was in gym clothes—loose shorts and a faded Mets T-shirt. God, he looks sexy. I was beginning to realize I thought the man looked good in anything.
“You wear that T-shirt around Samantha?”
“I wear this T-shirt because of Sam. Drives her nuts.”
“You two have an interesting dynamic, that’s for sure.”
“How was the rest of your coffee with your friend? You two talk about me some more after I left?”
“I was just telling her the story of how we met, that was all. Don’t let it go to your head.” Of course, what we were discussing would have inflated his ego, but he really didn’t need to know that.
“That’s disappointing. Was hoping maybe you were telling her how hot you thought your boss was.”
“Josh is handsome, although I’m not really the Adrien Brody type myself.”
“Smartass.”
“You heading to the gym?”
“Yeah. Didn’t get a chance to run this morning because of that early meeting I had. You heading out?”
“Yep. Home to Ugly Kitty. I think she gets pissed when I leave her alone for too many hours. She waits for me near the door and scares the shit out of me with her glowing green eyes.”
Chase tapped his finger against the door jamb like he was considering something. “No Brian tonight?”
“Bryant. And no, not tonight. Just me and Ugly Kitty.” The mention of Bryant reminded me of this weekend again. “By the way, do you know yet if you’re planning on working this weekend?”
“Working this weekend?”
“The marketing department, I mean. Lindsey said sometimes during a big project everyone will go offsite for brainstorming.”
“Haven’t talked about it yet.”
“Okay.”
“You have plans this weekend or something?”
“Not really. Well…sort of. A…friend asked me if I was free.”
He stared at me for a few seconds then squinted. “Anything good?”
“Long Beach Island.”
I was pretty sure he really wanted to know whether my plans were with Bryant, but I intentionally kept being vague. And he intentionally kept prodding. It was almost like a game.
“Got a house there?”
“No. Friend-of-a-friend sort of thing.”
He squinted again, staring at me, but I still didn’t give in. “Girls’ weekend?”
; I shook my head.
He nodded. “See you in the morning. Don’t stay too late.”
“Okay. Goodnight.”
Chase turned like he was going to leave, then turned back. “On second thought, you know what? I think we do need to work this weekend.”
I smiled brightly—although I wasn’t sure why the hell I was smiling when he’d just put the kibosh on my weekend at the beach.
Maybe because I didn’t really want to go with Bryant. Or maybe because the thought of working with Chase all weekend was more exciting than a romantic beach weekend with the guy I was dating. Either way, I was looking forward to working a little too much.
***
After I left the office that night, I stopped at the restaurant a few doors down and picked up a meatball parm hero, knowing I’d be too lazy to cook when I got home. Between the long hours at the office, late-night meals, and skipping the gym, I was definitely going to gain weight if I didn’t do something about it.
Maybe I should join a new gym? Iron Horse was nice. And Bryant would probably like it if I joined. But who would I be kidding? Myself. I already spent half the day glancing up to spot a certain someone around the office. I sure as hell didn’t need any more distractions from that man.
My phone buzzed as I crossed the street on the way to my subway station. Bryant’s name flashed on the screen. Knowing I only had a minute before I lost service, I hit ignore, figuring I would call him back when I got home.
Outside of my train station, a man with longish gray hair sat on the concrete. He had a long beard to match. His skin was dark and leathery, likely from long hours baking in the sun. But it was the light blue of his eyes that caught my attention when he looked up. I have no idea why, even though I knew he was obviously homeless, he didn’t look like someone who was supposed to be homeless. He seemed soft and sad, rather than drunk or scary like a lot of the people I’d learned to speed past growing up in New York City. He had a guitar case sitting next to him with the lid open, but it was filled with piles of neatly organized clothing. I offered a smile and kept going. He returned the smile, but quickly looked away—like he wasn’t supposed to be looking at me.
Halfway down the subway stairs, I remembered my giant meatball hero. Walking back up, I split it in two and gave half to the man with the sad blue eyes. He smiled gratefully and nodded.
It felt good, and my ass certainly didn’t need an entire hero.
Chapter 11
Reese
I’d forgotten how much I loved happy hour. Jules and I used to do it every Thursday night when we first started at Fresh Look, but as time went by, one of us was always working late. We’d apologize and promise to do it the following week, but then the other person would be on deadline and not be able to go. Eventually, we just stopped even trying to make plans.
But the employees at Parker Industries made time for happy hour, and I’d managed to leave the office at a reasonable hour, too. Lindsey was another brand manager in the marketing department, and we’d hit it off on my first day. We were sitting at a bar, drinking Godiva chocolate martinis and enjoying the free appetizers as she filled me in on all the office gossip.
“And Karen in payroll is engaged to a guy who used to be in porn.”
“Porn?”
“It was soft stuff. But if you want to see his dick, just Google John Summers.”
“It would be really weird to Google someone in the office’s fiancé to look at him naked.”
Lindsey crinkled up her nose. “It’s not circumcised. It’s really ugly. But it’s huge.” She held out her hands nearly twelve inches apart. “Like a baseball bat. Now every time I look at her, I can’t stop wondering how that thing fits. I mean, she’s so tiny.”
“You need to meet my friend Jules. It’s uncanny how much you remind me of her.”
Lindsey tossed back the rest of her martini and held the empty glass up for the bartender. “So tell me about you. Boyfriend¸ husband, sister-wife? What’s going on in your life?”
Answering should have been easier. “I’ve been on four dates with a guy who’s really sweet. We talk almost every day.”
“Really sweet, huh? Are you exclusive?”
Huh? Are we? “We haven’t really talked about it. But I haven’t been dating anyone else.”
The bartender came by with a shaker and refilled both our glasses. Lindsey eyed me over the top of hers as she sipped. “You’re not that into him.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You didn’t perk up when you talked about him, you described him as ‘sweet’, you aren’t sure if you’re exclusive, and it seems like thirty seconds ago was the first time you’d even considered the question. That means you don’t care if he isn’t.” She shrugged and said pointedly, “You’re not that into him.”
I exhaled a deep breath. “I think you’re right. He’s great—he really is. But there’s just something missing.”
“Can’t force it.”
She was right. Although the thought of breaking things off with a guy like Bryant—one who didn’t come along that often in New York City—was pretty depressing. I needed to think about something else.
“Tell me more gossip? What about Samantha?”
“She’s pretty much what you see. Been with the company about four years now, I think. Married, no kids that I’m aware of. She and Chase go way back. I heard a rumor that she was best friends with his girlfriend who died.”
“His girlfriend died?”
“Yep. Years ago. I think she was only twenty-one at the time.” Lindsey shook her head. “Tragic.”
“How did she die? Was she sick or something?”
“Some sort of an accident, I think. It was before I started. But I heard Chase was screwed up for a long time. It’s why he licensed all his products originally instead of distributing them himself. A lot of those licenses are expiring, and that’s why we’re marketing some of the products for the first time.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah. He seems really good now, though. He’s usually in a good mood, anyway.” Lindsey grinned. “But I would be too if I got up every morning and looked at that face. The man is obscenely hot—if you’re into that sort of thing, that is.”
I laughed. “Not your type?”
“Apparently I like my men balding with a beer belly and propensity to be unemployed. I’ve been with Al since I was sixteen.”
“He’s gained some weight, huh?”
She snorted. “Actually, no. He’s pretty much always looked the same way. But the man thinks I walk on water for reasons I’ll never understand. Treats me like a princess.”
“Good for you.”
A couple of people from sales came into the bar and joined us, effectively ending my gossip session with Lindsey. After that, we mingled, and I got to meet a few new people. But I couldn’t stop thinking about what I’d learned about Chase. He’d lost someone. Something like that had to have a big impact on your life, no matter how smart and well-adjusted you were.
Even if it didn’t break you, it left cracks and tiny fissures that could never be repaired.
Although the bar had grown busier by nine, the office crowd had begun to thin out. Lindsey went home, and there was only one other person from marketing left. It was time to call it a night. I attempted to get the bartender’s attention, but she was swamped down at the other end of the bar.
A man who’d clearly been overserved squeezed in next to me and tried to strike up a conversation while standing too close.
“Is that your real hair color?” he asked.
“Don’t you know you’re never supposed to ask a woman her age, weight, or if she dyes her hair?”
“Didn’t know that.” He swayed back and forth. “So asking for a phone number is okay?”
I attempted to be polite. “I suppose, if she isn’t married and seems interested.”
Feeling the need to escape, I tried again to get the bartender’s attention so I could close my tab. She held up
her hand to let me know she’d seen me, but she was still busy making drinks at the other end of the bar. They really needed another bartender with this crowd.
Since I was stuck standing there, drunk guy assumed that meant I was interested. “What’s your name, red?” He reached out and touched my hair.
“Please don’t touch me.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “You like women or something?”
This guy was amusing. For the first time since he’d walked over, I finally gave him my full attention, turning my body to face him before answering. “You assume I like women, just because I don’t want you to touch me?”
He ignored me. “Let me buy you a drink, pretty girl.”
“No, thanks.”
He leaned in closer, wobbling as he spoke. “You’re feisty. I like that. The red hair must be real.”
A voice from behind me caught me by surprise.
“Go stand somewhere else.” Chase’s voice was low but stern. He took a step and partially inserted himself between us, facing the drunk.
“I saw her first,” the man whined.
“I don’t think so, buddy. I sucked her face in middle school. Take a hike.”
The drunk grumbled something, but staggered away. Chase turned to face me, standing in his place. Wow. Much better view.
“Thank you. Polite wasn’t working.”
Of course, as soon as the drunk was no longer a problem, the bartender came to settle my tab. “What can I get you, Chase?” Or maybe not.
“I’ll take a Sam Adams.”
She turned to me. “You want me to close out your tab, right?”
“You’re leaving? I just got here. You have to have one drink with me.”
I wanted to. I really wanted to. But I knew I should probably go. Chase read the hesitation on my face.
“Close her tab. Bring another of whatever she’s drinking, and put it on my tab. We’re going to move to a table where it’s quieter.”
The bartender took his direction, and I shook my head, even though I was smiling.
“No one ever says no to you, do they?” I asked.