by Lisa Lace
“You know, you won’t win over Zoe with all that bravado. She’s not into flashy guys.” She raises her eyes to me in warning. “And you’d better not toy with her, either. She’s my best friend.”
“You don’t know anything about my love life, Laura. A lot of women find my company enjoyable.”
“They find your money enjoyable.”
I tighten my grip on my glass of water and glare at Laura. “If you don’t want me here, I can go back to New York.”
Laura bows her head then reaches across to squeeze my hand. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m still angry that it took you so long to come back here.”
“I’m here now. We’ll make it a nice Christmas like you said.”
“I hope so.” She places her cutlery down, too. “And what about Zoe?”
I hold my hands up. “When she realized I was the person she’s been speaking to online, she wasn’t having any of it. Seems like a little birdie has been telling her some bad things about me.”
Laura smirks guiltily. “I didn’t know you were going to go after her.”
“Neither did I. I was just as shocked as she was.”
“It’s over before it began, then?”
“Not necessarily.” I pause, studying Laura’s expression carefully. “Would you be upset if I asked her out again?”
She runs her finger along the edge of the table. “I know that Zoe really cared about this person she was talking to online. You. If she wants to see you again, I won’t stand in the way. It seemed like you two had a real connection over these last six months. But don’t get her hopes up, then disappear, or play games with her. She’s a wonderful person, and I don’t want you to come between us. If you hurt her, don’t expect me to jump to your defense.”
“I won’t hurt her.”
“You’re only here until New Year’s. How serious can this thing get?”
I can’t answer that question. All I know is that the woman I’ve been speaking to has been easier to talk to than anyone else around me. She hasn’t judged or expected me to be anything or do anything. She let me be me and seemed to like that person. That unconditional friendship has meant a lot to me.
When I decided to come to Portland, I’d been hoping for more. Now I’ve found out that the mystery woman is Zoe Lockhart, the girl who’d lived next door when we were children. She and Laura had hit it off from day one, but Zoe and I had always rubbed each other the wrong way.
She’s not the little girl next door anymore.
“I don’t know, Laura, but I think I’d like to see where it goes. I know she’s your best friend, and it’s awkward. But this woman I’ve been speaking to has been a friend to me, too. I don’t want to lose her.”
“That’s probably the most sincere thing you’ve said since you stepped in the door.” Laura holds up her hands. “It’s not up to me. You and Zoe are both adults. It’s up to you if you want to be together. Just keep my warning in mind, Tom. Please don’t let her down.”
Megan’s ears are twitching. She perks up. She’s suddenly forgotten all about her phone, a big grin jumping to her face at fresh gossip. “Him and Aunt Zoe?”
“First, we’re not calling your Uncle Tom ‘him.’ Secondly, it’s none of your beeswax, young lady.”
“Oh, I’m sorry for listening to the conversation you’re having while I’m sitting right here.” She rolls her eyes, then flicks her gaze toward me. “She’s way out of your league.”
“Megan!” Laura gasps. “That’s incredibly rude. Apologize to your uncle. Then I want you to take Jack upstairs for his bath.”
“Fine.” She turns reluctantly toward me. “Sorry for having an opinion.” She takes Jack’s sticky hand and leads him upstairs.
Laura places her head in her hand and lets out a long breath. “I’ve got no idea what I’m going to do with that girl. She’s got such an attitude these days.”
“She’s just being a teenager.”
Laura begins to collect the plates from the table. I help her. Jesus, I can’t remember the last time I cleared my own plate.
“Thanks, Tom.”
She smiles at me. I smile back. At last, a moment of familiarity.
Zoe
I’m twisting holly around a wire when I hear the bell above the door ring. I’m breathless from working, and I have my tongue stuck out with concentration. My hair is pulled back into a loose, low ponytail, flyaway strands hanging around my flushed face.
I look up, and my breath catches in my throat when I see it’s Tom.
When I see him, I’m torn. First, I see TJ, and then I remember Tom. In appearance, this is Laura’s brother—the same annoying and inconsiderate jerk who used to call me “Ginny Weasley” when I was a kid. On the other hand, this is the guy who I’ve spent hours talking to, pouring my heart out to, and connecting with. This is the man I’ve sent explicit messages to, and who’s made me tingle with desire with his replies.
I stutter out a hello. “Hi, Tom.”
“Hi, Zoe.”
“What are you doing here?”
He looks incredible. He’s freshly showered and cleanshaven. His dark hair is long enough that I’d call it “wild” if it hadn’t been coiffed into such an expensive cut. He’s wearing a crisp, white collared shirt with a plain T-shirt underneath, his sleeves rolled up neatly to the elbow, and a pair of blue denim jeans. I could almost forget he’s a billionaire.
He comes to my counter and leans against it on folded arms. I stand there, a little dazzled by him, but feeling like I have to resist. This is Laura’s brother. I wouldn’t betray her, and I know enough about TJ to steer clear. This guy has a reputation for bolting as soon as he’s needed most.
Still, when he’s this close, I can smell the scent of his oaky cologne, and it awakens something in me.
The attraction grows when Tom catches my eye and flashes his million-dollar smile. “I came to apologize for last night.”
I busy myself with threading red berries into the wreath and shrug. “I should apologize, too.” I offer a smile. “I guess the shock made me say things I shouldn’t.”
“Things got a bit crazy, huh?” He shifts his weight onto one elbow, gazes at me deeply.
“Yes, they did.”
“I’d like to give it another try.”
I bow my head. “I’m not so sure. I don’t think that’s fair to Laura.”
“I’ve spoken to Laura. She’s all for it.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Those were her exact words, were they?”
“Her exact words were something like ‘you’re an adult, make your own decisions; just don’t fuck up with my best friend’.”
“That sounds more like her.” I let my smile grow slightly. “Was she really on board with the idea?”
“She’s happy for us to make our own decisions. We’re both consenting adults.”
“Uh-huh.”
Tom reaches out to lay his hand on mine. “Please, Zoe. Say you’ll go on a date with me. We started off in person on a bad foot, but that shouldn’t undo all the months of something special that we had before.”
I bite my lip.
“Come on, Zoe. I know you felt it too, that spark. Why else would you spend six months talking to someone whose picture you’d never seen?”
He was right. It was the personality of the person online that kept me hooked; not his appearance, and not his bank balance. It had been Tom—TJ—whoever this man was standing in front of me that had captivated me all this time.
You’d be a fool to throw it all away without really knowing. “One date. One. But only if Laura is one hundred percent happy with it.”
Tom grins. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow at seven. We’ll go somewhere nice.”
I can’t resist throwing in a teasing reference to our previous messages. “For the night of my life?”
Catching my eyes intently, Tom smiles a smoldering smile. “You never know.”
Tom exits the store, throwing back a grin over his shoulder as he goes, leavi
ng me bewildered and a little in awe. As much as I want to hate him for the way he’s treated Laura, and for every act of arrogance that I’ve witnessed firsthand, you can’t argue with his charm. There’s something about that man.
The first thing I do after Tom leaves is phone Laura. There’s no way I’d go near TJ without her say-so.
Laura tells me the same thing she allegedly told Tom. “You’re adults, Zoe. I trust you to make your own decisions. If you hadn’t been messaging him all this time, I’d tell you I thought it was a bad idea. As it is, it seems like you two did have a connection. That’s not like TJ—and it’s not like you.”
“I don’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
“Don’t you worry about me. I’m going to sit back with my popcorn and watch how it unfolds.” She laughs, then speaks more seriously. “Just keep your wits about you with TJ. He’s always been a flight risk.”
“Maybe I’ll give it a try, then. I know how weird this is, but at the same time, I can’t forget about the man I’ve been talking to. Even though it’s TJ, I can’t deny there was something there.”
“Go for it. It’ll give you all the more reason to check in on the kids while I’m away.”
“God, I forgot all about that.”
“Thursday.”
“Does he know that you’re planning to leave him with the kids yet?”
“Nope. And I’m not going to tell him. Not until the very last minute. I don’t want him making excuses. He’s going to get to know my kids if it kills him.”
I put on the little purple-blue dress that I’ve had since forever. It’s the same one that my mom told me was too short when I was nineteen. It’s almost certainly too short now. It’s the only dress I own that looks like something a young, single woman would put on. Everything else seems to be a chunky knit, paisley, or something my mom would wear.
I match it with a pair of slinky stilettos, then twist and turn in front of the mirror. I’m slim but womanly. The purplish velvet clings to my bust, the neckline rising above my collarbones. The material outlines my figure but doesn’t show an inch of cleavage. Instead, my legs are the star of the show, long and shapely. I feel miles high in my high heels and dark pantyhose. I color my lips with some berry pink lipstick, apply my mascara, brush out my hair, and I’m ready.
At seven sharp, I hear a knock at my door. Butterflies dance in my stomach at the sound. I grab my purse and open it.
Tom is dressed to the nines in a sharp black suit and tie. I’ve never seen a man so refined and sophisticated. When I first opened my door on Friday night, it was TJ that I saw. Tonight, I see Tom—the man I’d imagined.
“You look great,” I tell him.
He grins. I’m not sure if I’ve forgotten how to walk in heels this high, or if my knees just went weak.
“And you look stunning. God, Zoe. I don’t think I’ll ever get over how much you’ve changed.”
The desire in his voice makes me blush. I step out the door and lock it behind me. “I haven’t changed that much.”
“Yes. You have.”
“I’m still firetruck red.”
Tom laughs. “You remember that.”
I throw him a devilish smile. “I remember a lot of things.”
“What can I say? I was young and dumb. Tonight, I can honestly say you’re a vision. A beautiful, vivacious redhead. I’m honored to have you as my date.”
“I’m sure a lot of people would say I’m the lucky one. Thomas Vermont! As you said, you’re a big deal.”
“I haven’t changed that much. What’s a few billion between friends?” He winks at me.
I shake my head with disapproval but smile with amusement. Tom has a cocky charm that is just teetering on the right side of confidence. One word too far, and he’ll stride right across that line into arrogance.
Tom takes me to Allegro. It’s a swanky new Japanese-American fusion restaurant that only recently opened on the outskirts of town. It’s already famous for its exclusive chef and top-tier wines.
As much as Laura and I give Tom a hard time about his riches, I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t nice to be spoiled for a change. There was something magical about sweeping into a luxury establishment on the arm of a roguishly handsome billionaire.
People turn to stare at Tom. They gasp and whisper. It’s Thomas Vermont! It’s a strange feeling, watching their heads swivel like clockwork as we walk through the restaurant toward one of the best tables—a window seat overlooking the ocean.
The sun is setting, casting magnificent pink and purple hues across the waves. We sit down, and I’m struck by the luxury of the table. The tablecloth is a fine burgundy cotton. I’m terrified of spilling my wine when Tom orders us a bottle of some exorbitant Bordeaux.
The menus are leather-bound, with no prices. I think I remember reading somewhere that some places do that so that someone being taken out doesn’t worry about what their date is paying.
I don’t think Tom worries much about the cost of dinner, even at a place like this.
“Have you been here before?” I ask him.
“It only opened last year.”
“That’s a ‘no,’ then. I forget how long it’s been.”
He laughs. “No, you don’t. Nobody does. It’s all I’ve heard about since I got back.”
“What does it feel like to be back now?”
Tom sits back in his chair, swilling the red wine inside its glass. He shrugs. “Like I never left.”
“That’s good.”
He makes a face. “Is it? There’s a reason I chose to leave Maine.”
“Which is?”
“It was just time to move on.”
A waiter comes to take our order. Tom orders a wagyu beef steak. I order a hijiki seaweed salad.
“When did you last go on a date?” I ask him.
“It depends on what you classify as a date.”
I smile, raising one eyebrow. “I’d like to think a person would know.”
“Well, I have business ‘dates’; women I take to events for appearances. Then, there are the ‘dates’ I have that I don’t plan for.”
“One-night stands?”
“Funny enough, there seems to be no lack of interested women as soon as the platinum card comes out.”
There’s that arrogance again.
“Maybe you should stop flashing it around. It would give you a chance to meet women who were really interested.”
“I guess that’s what was special about talking to you,” he replies. “You had no idea who I was, no idea what I did, or how much I earned. You didn’t even know what I looked like. Yet you gave me the time of day. You talked with me. You made me laugh. I made you laugh. That’s something that’s been missing for me: true companionship.”
After a dangerous walk into arrogance territory, he’s managed to bring back the charm. Although, he raises a point I’ve been meaning to press him on.
“Why did you work so hard to hide who you were from me, anyway? I would have figured out it was you in an instant if you’d not been so cloak-and-dagger about the whole thing.”
“I didn’t want to be Thomas Vermont. I wanted to be Tom.”
“Thomas Vermont, Tom, TJ. You wear a lot of hats.”
He shrugs. “People have expectations. My family wants me to be one way. My staff expect me to be another. I thought the chance to be anonymous online would also be a chance to be me, all expectations aside. And, I don’t know about you, but that worked for me. I felt we clicked when all those labels were put aside. I wasn’t trying to manipulate anyone. I was simply trying to make things less complicated.”
I raise an eyebrow. “That didn’t quite work out the way you hoped.”
I don’t know whether it’s a line or not, but I warm to Tom when he talks about our online romance. Like him, I’ve appreciated the true companionship from our conversations.
“I feel the same. Apart from Laura, I don’t really have anyone close to me. My parents are traveli
ng. My friends have moved away over time. I’ve had no luck in the dating arena. It’s been me and my flowers for too long. I mean, Laura’s absolutely fantastic, but she’s so busy.”
“She is,” Tom agrees. He drinks from his wine and places the glass down. His hand rests on the table, his Rolex gleaming from under his cuff. “Those kids are running her ragged.”
I smile. “They’re good kids.”
“They seem like good kids.”
“Megan can be a bit sarcastic, but only when she feels she’s being patronized. And Jack, well, he’s just like any other five-year-old boy. A lot of energy.”
“I’m looking forward to getting to know them better.”
You will soon enough. I almost let the words slip out, but hold them in. Tom doesn’t yet know what Laura is planning. “When was the last time you took time off work?”
Tom makes a face. He closes his eyes to calculate, then lifts up his hands. “God knows. Mike’s funeral, probably.”
“Wow. Some might say you work too hard.”
“You don’t have a choice when you’re in the position I am. I’m at the head of a huge corporation. I have to be there to manage my staff, or else it all falls apart.”
Arrogant. “They’re managing without you this winter.”
“I’m still in contact with the office,” Tom explains. “I’m doing a lot of work remotely. Skype meetings three times a day. Calls, messages. My PA keeps me in the loop. I’ve had eight calls from her since I’ve landed.”
“Ah, yes. Sharon.”
“How do you know who Sharon is?”
“Laura talks about her all the time. They’re good friends.”
“They are?”
“Sure. She speaks to Sharon more than she speaks to you. They’ve sent each other Christmas cards for the last three years.”
Tom looks surprised. “I didn’t know I was that hard to reach.”
I shrug. “I only know what Laura tells me.”
“I hope it’s not all bad.”
“Don’t worry. I can form my own opinions.”