We Shouldn't

by Vi Keeland

  I had no idea what to say, so I went with as little as possible—less likely I’d stick my foot in my mouth. “Sorry.”

  She sniffled. “I tried not to call him. I really did. He sent me a few texts after you answered my phone yesterday, saying we needed to talk. But it was making me crazy to see his texts and not respond.” She laughed through her tears. “More crazy than having my icons in all the wrong folders has made me over the last week.”

  I grinned. “You’re welcome. I probably just added three years back to your life by helping you overcome the demons of organizational control.”

  Annalise opened her drawer and fished out a tissue. Wiping her eyes, she said, “How many years do I get added back if I fixed them after four days?”

  I nodded. “We’ll work on it. Next week you’ll give me your full-page to-do list, and we’ll try to make it five days without you checking shit off.”

  “How do you know I have a full-page to-do list?”

  I gave her a look that said Are you joking, Captain Obvious?

  She sighed. “I bet Andrew knew I’d call him back, too.”

  I had no doubt about that either. The guy was a douchebag because he knew what he could get away with and kept her dangling at the end of that point.

  “I might be the last person who should give relationship advice, but I do know men. And any guy who ends things over the phone is a jerkoff and not worth your tears.”

  “Oh. Andrew didn’t end things.”

  “He didn’t? Then why are you crying?”

  “Because he asked me to meet him tomorrow after work for dinner.”

  I furrowed my brows. “I’m lost. Why is that a bad thing?”

  “Because Andrew is a good man. He wouldn’t tell me it was fully over on the phone.” Her eyes started to fill with water again. “He asked me to meet him after work at the Royal Excelsior. I’m sure it’s because he’s going to buy me an expensive dinner before he ends things in person.”

  “The Royal Excelsior? Isn’t that the place in the Royal Hotel downtown? I have a client a few blocks away.”

  She nodded and wiped her nose.

  Okay. So I’m a big enough man to admit when I’m wrong. And obviously I was wrong thinking her ex was asshole enough to end shit on the phone. I hadn’t realized the guy was a giant asshole and was going to fuck her first before ending it.

  “You shouldn’t go meet him.”

  Annalise offered a sad smile. “Thank you. But I need to.”

  I struggled with my thoughts. Did I lay it out for her—explain that the guy didn’t want to break things off, he wanted to get laid? Hell, if he was smart—which I was reasonably certain he was, looking at the gorgeous woman sitting in front of me that he’d managed to keep on ice for months—he’d probably manage to let her think the roll in the hay was her damn idea.

  Or did I keep my nose out of it? After all, she was a grown woman, capable of making her own decisions. And she was also my nemesis.

  But she looks so damn vulnerable.

  “Listen. I already put my thoughts out there about this guy saying he needed a break. So I’m pretty sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say…but be careful.”

  “Be careful about what?”

  “Men. In general. We can come off as nice guys when we’re really dicks.”

  She looked confused. “Why don’t you just spit out what you’re trying to say, Bennett?”

  “You won’t fault me for being honest?”

  She squinted at me. Yep. She’s going to fault me for being honest. But now I’d opened my damn mouth and was stuck, so screw it.

  “I’m just saying…don’t let him take advantage of you. He asked you to meet him for dinner at a hotel for a reason. Unless he’s telling you he made a huge mistake and wants you back, don’t hop into bed with him. Listen carefully to the words he chooses. Saying he misses you isn’t committing to jack shit and might just be to lower your defenses and raise your skirt.”

  Annalise stared at me. Her face had been blotchy from crying, but red started to fill in the white spots. She’s pissed.

  “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

  I raised my hands in surrender. “Just looking out for you.”

  “Do me a favor and don’t.” She stood. “I’ll have the copy to you in an hour or two. Is there anything else you need?”

  I could take a hint. Standing, I buttoned my jacket. “Actually, yeah. Maybe you can talk to Finley about removing the stick up her ass and coming to me if she has a problem, rather than marching over to Human Resources. We’re a team now—all on the same side.”

  She pursed her lips. “Fine.”

  I walked to the door and put my hand on the knob before turning back. I never could leave well enough alone. “Also, I’d prefer that copy in an hour, rather than two.”

  Chapter 12

  * * *

  Bennett

  I needed to see the client.

  That’s what I kept telling myself anyway. It had been six months since I’d met with Green Homes, and they were solid. So a quick pop-in visit on my way home tonight wasn’t out of the ordinary. The fact that they were located downtown, two blocks from the Royal Hotel, just happened to be a coincidence.

  And the parking garages were always full in this area. So it wasn’t unusual that I’d parked in one three blocks away and had to walk right past the Royal after my meeting ended.

  At six o’clock in the evening.

  My schedule had been full during the earlier part of the day, mostly.

  I wasn’t much of a believer in coincidence. I was more of an actions-make-things-happen kind of guy. But the fact that I was standing in front of the Royal Hotel—pure chance.

  A fluke.

  Happenstance.

  Whatever.

  Opening the door leading to the lobby? Now that, that wasn’t coincidence. That shit was morbid curiosity.

  I looked around the atrium, intentionally positioned behind a wide marble column so I could look things over without too many people seeing me. It was pretty quiet for early evening. To the left was the check-in area. One customer stood being helped while a few employees milled around behind the long counter. To the right was an empty bank of elevators. Straight across, on the other side of a large, circular fountain, was the lobby bar. A dozen or so people sat around. I scanned for her face.

  Nothing.

  She’d left the office at four thirty, so she must be here by now. Hopefully she was inside the restaurant ordering expensive shit from the menu, compliments of the douchebag, and not suckered up to a room upstairs.

  Annalise’s screwed-up relationship was none of my business. I should have turned around and left. I didn’t really care if she got screwed over.

  Coincidence.

  Morbid curiosity.

  Those were the reasons I’d stepped foot into the lobby. And the reason I walked toward the bar, rather than hauling ass out the front door?

  I’m thirsty. Why can’t I have a drink?

  The bar was L-shaped. I sat in the far corner against the wall so that liquor bottles and the fancy old antique cash register blocked me from most people who happened to walk into the lobby. I had a clear shot at the restaurant doors, though. The bartender set a napkin down in front of me. “What can I get you?”

  “I’ll take a beer. Whatever you have on tap is fine.”

  “You got it.”

  When he returned, he asked if I wanted to see a menu. I didn’t, so he nodded and started to walk away until I stopped him.

  “Any chance you saw a blonde?” I motioned with both hands to my head. “A lot of wavy blonde hair. Ivory skin. Big blue eyes. If she was with a man, I’m guessing he looked like she was out of his league.”

  The bartender nodded. “He had a Mister Rogers sweater on. She was taller in those heels.”

  “Did you happen to see where they went?”

  He hesitated. “Are you her husband or something?”


  “No. Just a friend.”

  “You’re not gonna cause any trouble, are you?”

  I shook my head. “None whatsoever.”

  He lifted his chin. “They went to the restaurant. Closed out their tab about twenty minutes ago.”

  I blew out a deep breath. Sure, I felt relief. But it wasn’t because I gave a shit whether Annalise slept with the douchebag or not. It was because I didn’t need crying at the office. I had to work with her now—in close proximity.

  I sat at the bar and nursed my beer for the better part of half an hour. The door to the restaurant opened and closed, and the initial stakeout excitement I’d felt started to lose its luster. I considered bolting.

  Until the door opened, and I caught a glimpse of the woman coming out.

  “Shit.” I looked down into the empty peanut dish I’d polished off, attempting to avoid eye contact. After thirty seconds, I chanced a sneak peek up. She wasn’t standing in front of the restaurant door anymore. I breathed a sigh of anxious relief. But it only lasted one breath. Because on my next inhale, I diverted my eyes from the door and found Annalise in my peripheral vision, walking right toward me.

  And she didn’t look too happy.

  Her hands gripped her hips. “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I tried to play it off casually by picking up my empty beer and bringing it to my lips. “Hey, Texas. What are you doing here?”

  She scowled. “Don’t even try it, Fox.”

  “What?”

  “Why are you following me?”

  I feigned being offended, raising my hand to my chest. “Following you? I’m meeting a friend. I had a client meeting a few blocks over.”

  “Yeah? Where’s your friend?”

  I looked down at my watch. “He’s…late.”

  “What time were you supposed to meet him?”

  “Umm. Six o’clock.”

  “Who are you meeting?”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. What’s your friend’s name?”

  Damn. This was an inquisition. Her rapid-fire questions threw me off. I said the first name that came to my head. “Jim. Jim Falcon. Yeah. Ummm…I just met with a client, and we were going to have drinks after to go over my meeting.”

  She added some badass squinting to her scowl. “You’re so full of shit. You’re following me.”

  “I left the office at three today to go see a client,” I lied, knowing my door had been closed so she wouldn’t have known if I was still in when she left. “What time did you leave?”

  “Four thirty.”

  “So how exactly could I have followed you? I think you’re following me.”

  “Are you nuts? Seriously, I think you need a shrink, Bennett. I’ve been watching you through the door to the restaurant for a half hour. You’re staring at the door every time it opens.”

  I threw up my hands like I was exasperated. “The door is in my line of view.”

  “Go home, Bennett.”

  “I’m waiting for my friend.”

  “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but I’m a big girl and can take care of myself. I don’t need your protection. If I want to fuck Andrew, whether he wants to get back together with me or not, that’s my decision. Not yours. Maybe you should spend some time thinking about why you don’t have a relationship of your own, rather than being so concerned with mine.”

  Before I could get another word in, Annalise turned and stomped back to the restaurant. I sat there for a few minutes collecting my thoughts.

  What the hell am I doing here? I’d lost my damn mind.

  The bartender walked over and leaned one elbow on the bar. “She’ll come around. They only get that pissed off when there’s something there.”

  He saw the confused look on my face and chuckled. “Can I get you anything else?”

  “You got any ass back there? Because mine just got chewed out.”

  He smiled. “Beer’s on me. Hope your night gets better.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Thanks.”

  I took my time walking the three blocks to the parking garage and then sat in the car and shot off a text to Jim Falcon before I forgot.

  Bennett: If Annalise asks, you were supposed to meet me for drinks at the Royal Hotel bar tonight at six.

  He typed back a few minutes later.

  Jim: I’m way too cheap to pay eleven bucks for a domestic beer.

  Bennett: She doesn’t know that, jackass. Just cover for me if she asks.

  Jim: No, I meant I’ve wanted to check out that place, and it’s too pricey for my budget. So it’s gonna cost you. Three drinks there next time we go out. You’re paying.

  I shook my head.

  Bennett: Fine. Good friend you are, making me pay to cover my ass.

  Jim: You’re lucky we weren’t supposed to fake meet for a dinner. Their surf and turf goes for seventy-five bucks.

  I tossed my phone onto the dash and started my car. I’d parked on the second floor of the garage, and there was a long line to pay and exit. A sudden urge to get the hell home hit me as I waited. So of course, every person in front of me paid with a credit card, then I hit the light on the corner of the garage before having to stop for pedestrians at every turn. The street to get back to the highway was a one-way, which meant I had to pass the hotel again.

  I made the mistake of looking at the door as I passed, and a flash of blonde came through. Only this time, Annalise didn’t notice me. Her head was down, and she walked quickly, practically running out of the hotel. Stuck in a line of traffic, I watched in my rearview mirror as she sped up even more, passing a few parked cars before bending to put her key in a door. She swung it open and hopped inside. Then her head dropped into her hands.

  Fuck. She was crying.

  A horn from the car behind me blared, jolting my attention from watching her in the rearview to looking at the driver’s arms waving in the air. The light had turned green, and everyone in front of me had driven off. I gave the asshole the finger even though I was in the wrong and then hit the gas.

  Get the fuck out of here, Bennett.

  You don’t need this shit.

  She told you straight out to mind your own damn business.

  And yet…

  I found myself pulling to the fucking curb.

  Annoyed with myself, I threw the car into park and hit my palms against the steering wheel a few times. “Such a dumbass. Just go the fuck home!”

  Naturally, I didn’t follow my own advice. Because apparently I was a glutton for punishment when it came to this woman. Instead, I got out, slammed the car door shut, and started walking down the block, back toward her car.

  Maybe she’d be gone.

  Maybe I’d imagined she was crying and instead she was laughing into her hands.

  Of course, I had no such luck.

  Annalise didn’t even notice me as I approached. Her car hadn’t been started yet, and she was busy wiping her tears with a tissue. I walked around to the passenger side, leaned down, and knocked gently on the window.

  She jumped.

  Then looked up, saw my face, and began to cry harder.

  Fuck.

  Yeah, I have that effect on women sometimes.

  I dropped my head back and stared up at the sky, silently berating myself for a few seconds, then took a deep breath, opened the car door, and got in.

  “Coming to gloat about being right?” She sniffled.

  “Not this time.” I leaned in and playfully elbowed her. “Plenty of time for that in the office.”

  She laughed through her tears. “God, you’re such a jerk.”

  I couldn’t argue with the truth. “You okay?”

  She took a deep breath in and let it out. “Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

  “You want to talk about it?” Please say no.

  “Not really.” Yes!

  “He told me he missed me and rubbed my arm.”

  Okay. So she doesn’t get the definition of “Not really.”

>   I inwardly sighed, but outwardly nodded so she could continue if she wanted to.

  “I asked him if that meant he was ready to get back together. He said he wasn’t ready. Then your words yesterday hit me. ‘Saying he misses you isn’t committing to jack shit and might just be to lower your defenses and raise your skirt.’”

  I’m poetic, aren’t I? “I’m sorry.”

  She looked down for a few minutes. I kept my mouth shut, trying to give her some headspace. Plus, I had no idea what to say other than I’m sorry and I told you so, and something told me the latter wasn’t a good idea.

  Eventually, she looked over at me. “Why did you come?”

  “I parked in a garage a few blocks over. You happened to walk out as I passed, and I saw you were upset.”

  Annalise shook her head. “No. I meant why did you come tonight at all—to the hotel?”

  I opened my mouth to speak and she stopped me, wagging her finger as she spoke. “And don’t even try to tell me you were meeting a friend. Give me more credit than that.”

  I toyed with the idea of standing my ground on the lie, but decided to come clean. The problem was, the truth didn’t make any sense—even to me.

  “I have no fucking idea.”

  Her eyes roamed my face, and then she nodded like she understood.

  That makes one of us, at least.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked. “I didn’t make it to the entrée. Just had a salad as an appetizer before I left. And I don’t really feel like going home yet.”

  “I’m always hungry.”

  She looked over at the hotel and back to me. “I don’t want to eat here.”

  “What do you like to eat?”

  “Italian. Chinese. Sushi. Burgers. Bar food.” She shrugged. “I’m not picky.”

  “Okay. I know the perfect place. It’s about a mile from here. Why don’t you drive, and you can drop me back at my car when we’re done.”

  She answered quickly. “No.”

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t like to drive with people in the car.”

  “What do you mean you don’t like driving with people in the car?”