by A. J. Pine
“So if anything happens before December sixteenth,” Brynn said, “the contract becomes null and void.”
She was still staring at Jeremy as he ran a hand through his hair, making it stand on end. He may have also been mumbling to himself, but she couldn’t quite hear what he was saying.
“Grace? Did you hear what I said?”
Brynn waved a hand in front of her face, and Grace blinked, the trance she’d been in finally broken.
“Huh?” she asked. “Sorry. This is just a lot to take in.”
Brynn nodded, her eyes flitting to the still-pacing Jeremy and then back to Grace.
“And maybe you’re a little distracted?” Brynn asked.
Grace bit her lip. “That’s the whole point of what I’m doing. To gain better focus. To think through decisions I make.”
The two women sat side by side on a small couch in the bookstore’s reading nook, the contract laid on the coffee table in front of them. Grace’s hands rested on her knees, and Brynn placed her palm over one of them.
“I hope you find what you’re looking for,” Brynn said.
Grace’s gaze threatened to wander back to Jeremy, but she kept her eye contact with Brynn. “Me, too,” she said.
“And you’re sure you don’t want to bring this to a contract lawyer?” Brynn asked. “I did take a few classes in contract law when I was still deciding where I wanted to concentrate my degree, but I’m a CPA.”
Sure, she had a whole family of lawyers who could go over the contract’s details. But that would mean telling them what had happened with he who wasn’t worthy of being named—and that same he bringing her family down with him. She’d never thought him capable of blackmail, but then again, she’d also never thought he’d take her life’s savings. Enough damage had already been done. She wouldn’t risk her family.
Grace nodded. “I have a good feeling about you. Plus, Jamie told me it was your idea to hire me for the in-house massage thing the other night, so that bumps you up another notch on my trust meter.”
The two women smiled at each other. Grace’s two closest girlfriends from high school had already left the city for the suburbs. One recently got married, and the other just had her first child. With her weekend travels to Madison, she’d had little time for anything else lately. She could use someone else nearby in her corner, even if it was just to read a contract.
Brynn handed Grace her pen. “So, basically, here’s what we have. You go public on Facebook with your cleanse. The station will create a page for you, but you’ll have administrator rights to the page. You post twice a week on how the cleanse is going, and you interact with page followers. You agree to one platonic date a week with a different guy to try to find the one who will be your ‘break the fast’ meal, for lack of better phrasing. Of course you can see any of the…contestants again after that first date, but they want a social media post about each first date to keep the public’s interest. And then whomever you choose, you kiss him on air on December sixteenth. I talked Jamie into hosting the big reveal at Kingston’s. It’s the same night as our rehearsal dinner, but it would be great publicity for the bar. Business is good, but this would really put the place on the map, you know? I mean…if that’s okay with you.”
Grace nodded. “I guess this will be good publicity for my business, too, right? I’ve just never really done the social media thing, you know? I have a page for my massage services, but I’ve always steered clear of putting my business out there for everyone else. Not gonna lie…I’m a little nervous.”
But how could she say no to $25,000? It was everything her ex had taken from her and more. Plus, it’s not like she was ashamed of what she was doing. On the contrary, she was proud. But now she’d be inviting everyone to weigh in on her business. Even him. The guy who left her high and dry in the first place. If Grace gave Whitney her little puff piece, she’d finally be able to lease her own studio and stop having to travel every weekend to support her livelihood.
Jeremy made it to the end of the aisle nearest them, pausing as Grace took the pen from Brynn. She hesitated as her eyes met his.
“If this is too weird for you, please say something,” she said to him. It had been three days since their friendship toast, and she’d been sincere in hers. Yes, there was an attraction between her and Jeremy. But beyond that, she just wanted to talk to him more like they did in the hotel hallway. Like they’d started to do Monday night before television and $25,000 were involved.
He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. He’d shaved since she’d seen him last, and he looked younger, more boyish. She tried to imagine him as the type of guy who proposed to Whitney Gaines. What had he been like then? What had Whitney been like? Why the hell had she said no?
“You don’t owe me anything, Grace,” Jeremy said. “We’ve known each other less than a week.”
“Yeah, but—”
“The money’s important. Isn’t it?” he asked.
She swallowed and nodded. But any explanation she had got stuck in her throat. She wasn’t going to drag Jeremy into her mess. She could fix this. She could fix all of it, and she’d do it on her own.
“Then,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I’d be an asshole to ask you to give that up.” He laughed softly. “See? I can do this friend thing.”
But it felt like more, like they were giving something up even though they never had it in the first place. There she went again, thinking about their connection and even adding a What if? But what she needed now was a friend, and he was offering her that. It would have to be enough.
“I can trust her?” Grace asked, her voice a little shaky. “Whitney, I mean. You don’t need to tell me your whole history, but you’d tell me if I was making a mistake entering into a business arrangement with her, right?”
Jeremy gritted his teeth, which maybe wasn’t the best sign. But then he let out a long breath. “Look,” he said. “I’m not gonna lie. Whitney Gaines puts Whitney Gaines first. Always. So yeah, she may be offering you a bunch of cash, but that’s because she’ll get something out of it, too. But my gut says she wants this to be a success. Because if her little good-news venture fails, then she fails.”
“And Whitney doesn’t like to lose,” Grace said. “I kind of guessed that.”
Jeremy nodded.
“But she lost you,” Grace said.
Brynn’s brows rose, but she stayed silent.
Jeremy let out a harsh laugh. “I didn’t match her checklist for success,” he said. “I don’t think she saw it as much of a loss.”
Grace opened her mouth to say something else, but Jeremy cut her off.
“She won’t fuck you over, if that’s what you’re worried about. It wouldn’t make sense.” His voice softened despite the bitterness she could tell still lingered. “I wouldn’t let that happen.”
Brynn laughed quietly.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
She laughed again. “Nothing. I just like seeing this side of you, Jer. It’s been a while.”
“What side is that?” he asked.
She shrugged. “Your sweet side.”
Grace watched as he narrowed his eyes at Brynn.
“I’m always sweet,” he said, then crossed his arms.
Brynn stood and walked over to Jeremy, kissing him on the cheek.
“I know that, honey. But it’s been a while since you let others see that Jeremy.” She spun back to Grace. “You must bring it out in him,” Brynn added. “How about I give you a minute to think it all through?”
Grace nodded, and Brynn leaned to whisper something in Jeremy’s ear before disappearing back toward the front of the shop.
Jeremy ended his pacing by collapsing onto the couch perpendicular to Grace.
“She might be onto something,” he said. “That is, if I do have this sweet side she speaks of.”
Grace felt the heat creep into her cheeks as she grinned.
“Well, whatever it is, I like it.”
&n
bsp; She tapped the pen against her lips, still hesitant. It had all happened so fast—Whitney seeing the book and asking her if she was really following through. Whitney sold Todd on the idea almost immediately, and a contract was couriered to Grace this morning. And, well, here they were.
“What were you saving for…before your ex took it all?”
Her eyes met his, and he was doing it again, giving her his undivided attention like he really cared what she was going to say next.
“There’s a storefront I want to lease in the River North area. It’s where a lot of my clientele is. Other than the weekends at the spa in Madison, I do in-home massage, which is fine, but I also lose a lot of billable time with the travel. If I have my own place—a wellness center—I can earn more in a day. And I can sell my aromatherapy products.”
He raised his brows. “River North? I’m guessing you’ve got some pretty swanky clientele. And you have a product line?” he asked.
She nodded, swallowing back the unease at whom she had to thank for making a name for herself within that circle of swanky clientele, the same person who’d forced her to live paycheck to paycheck in the first place. “The lotions and oils I use,” she said, assuming her nod was enough to answer his first question. But she loved talking about her products. “They’re all home brews, so to speak. Even your shampoo,” she said, then stopped herself, realizing she was admitting she’d noticed his scent.
His eyes widened.
“Yeah, okay, fine. I noticed the scent of your shampoo the other night. It’s not like I wouldn’t recognize my own recipe. The spa lets me sell it on consignment.”
Jeremy wrapped his fingers around her wrist and gently lowered the hand holding the pen. His hand was warm, and she wondered if he could feel her pulse throbbing against his touch.
“Sign the contract,” he said. “But on one condition.”
His hand was still on hers, but she held his gaze. Maintained her focus.
“You name it,” she said.
“Let me be your wingman.”
She laughed. “What?”
“It’s a self-serving request, really. This will be good business for Kingston’s. But have your weekly dates at the ale house. This way, if you’re just not that into him and need an easy out? I create your diversion.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “And what if I really like a potential candidate and want a quiet space to get to know him better?”
The muscle in his jaw ticked, but then he relaxed into a smile. “Then I’ll make sure you get our best booth under the stairs. Very intimate.”
“My wingman, huh?” she asked, not sure what excited her more—maybe actually finding a guy worthy of that first kiss in three months…or spending a night a week with Jeremy close by.
He nodded.
“Well,” she said, “then I have a request, too. From one friend to another.”
“Anything,” he said, and she raised a brow.
“Let me buy you a green smoothie after I take care of this.” She motioned to the contract. “I don’t have any clients until later this afternoon. If you’re not working until later, maybe we could actually hang out. You know, the friend thing. There’s a great little place right around the corner from the spot I want to lease. I could show it to you.”
He checked his wrist, which bore nothing but a few freckles that dotted his skin.
“Fine,” he said, his expression all mock seriousness. “But I have to be nowhere by no time in particular.” He laughed. “I’m off today. So I guess I’m all yours, Grace—”
He stopped midsentence.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
He squinted at the contract, then focused back on her.
“I’m all yours today, Grace Bailey.”
She signed the contract, a smile spreading from ear to ear.
Not because of the prospect of $25,000. Or even the thought of finally having her own professional space. It was all of it together, with the added bonus of spending the day with a new friend.
Jeremy brought something out in her that wasn’t there before, something she thought she’d lost in the rubble of a failed relationship, failed expectations, and failed trust.
Hope.
For the first time in—God, she couldn’t even remember the last time she felt it. But now the future she dreamed of was within her reach. She wouldn’t have to call her sister or her parents with her tail between her legs, asking for money she should have kept safe from a man she never should have trusted.
She wasn’t going to give them a reason to point their fingers and say, “If you would just stop with this silly hobby and do something serious with your life…”
This was serious, doing what she loved and supporting herself.
“Thank you,” she said, not able to articulate the weight of those two words. Jeremy wasn’t just giving her his time. He was giving her a piece of herself back. And there was no possible way to convey that gratitude.
He grinned. “I should really be thanking you, actually.”
“For what?”
He stood and reached out a hand. She grabbed it and let him pull her up.
“For the healthy, awful vegetables you’re about to make me drink.”
She laughed. Conveying her depth of gratitude with a smoothie.
It was a start.
Chapter Eight
Sharing a cab was something friends did. Knocking knees against the person next to you—that was also friendly, right? Jeremy had always made friends easily, but this was new territory for him. He liked Grace. He wanted to get this right.
“So, we’re just going to walk into an empty storefront?” he asked.
She smiled and nodded, her cheeks turning pink.
“The Realtor who’s leasing the place—we’ve gotten to know each other in the past several months. She hasn’t been able to unload it, and I haven’t had the capital to take it off her hands. But I’ve been coming to see it for quite a while.”
Jeremy felt something tighten in his chest at the thought of Grace longing for this place yet not being able to make it her own. He wanted to find the guy who stole her dream from her. And then what? He didn’t know what, but hell if he wouldn’t do what he could to get the money back.
“How long?” he asked.
She pulled her loose gold waves over one shoulder, twisting a lock around her finger.
“Ten months,” she said, then laughed. “I know. It’s crazy to torture myself like this when I probably won’t get it. I mean, Lisa’s gonna find a renter before I can afford it. I thought by now it would be mine, though. You know? I didn’t think…”
Jeremy reached for her free hand, hesitating for a second but then wrapping his hand around hers. Something in his chest constricted, but he shrugged it off. He hadn’t done the friendship thing with another woman before, not like this. There were bound to be side effects.
She stared for a second at their hands clasped together before her eyes met his.
“This is okay, right?” he asked. “This doesn’t ruin your cleanse or whatever?”
She laughed and squeezed his hand, a simple gesture, but it made the pressure in his chest tighten.
“Of course it’s okay.” Her smile was infectious, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “We’re friends, Jeremy. Friends can touch without it meaning anything sexual.”
“Right,” he said. “Sorry. This is all new territory for me.”
Because the thing was, as beautiful as he found Grace and as much as he still thought about kissing her sometimes, he meant the gesture as nothing more than a means to comfort her, as a means to comfort a friend.
He glanced down at the crotch of his jeans, giving himself a mental pat on the back that even the mention of the word “sexual” had zero effect on his dick whatsoever.
Good dick. He’d have to reward it later.
“Right up here on the corner is good,” she said, leaning toward the driver in the front seat. Then she glanced back at him
. “Smoothies first!”
The cab pulled up to the curb in front of a place called Green for Life, a small shop amid the bustle of the high-end River North area. He could see the people of an area of the city like this, one that was constantly on the go, counting on someone like Grace to turn to when they needed to unwind. He smiled at the thought, but then remembered what establishment they were about to enter.
He swallowed hard, preparing himself for what he was about to ingest.
“That’ll be seven eighty-two,” the cab driver said, and Jeremy instinctively reached for his wallet.
Grace stopped him with a hand on his leg.
“Hey,” she said. “I may not be able to sign a lease, but I can manage a cab ride and a couple of smoothies, okay?”
He nodded. Shit. He’d insulted her. He was out of his depth here.
Grace handed the driver a wad of bills and slid out of the cab. Jeremy followed her into the smoothie shop. She bellied up to the counter and only turned back to face him once she’d already placed her order.
“And whatever he wants,” she said to the dreadlocked guy behind the cash register. “It’s on me.”
There was a tightness to her tone, one that made him hesitant to order at all as tension bloomed out of nowhere.
“You’re the expert,” he said with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. “You pick.”
She spun back to dread man.
“Make that two of the kale, apple, lemon, then,” she said, her voice softening.
She handed the guy her debit card as he rang her up. There were a few tables in the small place, and Jeremy made his way to an empty one and sat down. Grace joined him but didn’t say anything as she took the seat on the other side of the table.
“People share cab fare, Grace. I wasn’t trying to buy you or anything like that. So tell me what the hell I did wrong.”
She let out a long breath, then ran a hand through her hair. Her steely gaze softened.