She crossed her arms, accentuating every curve the T-shirt hugged. Creases lined her forehead. “Yeah, no.”
Zach forced his attention to stay on her face. Not her angry flush or bright kissable lips, but her piercing gaze. No, that wasn’t working either. “Either sit or leave. People are staring.”
“I’m not talking unless you’re both listening.” She rolled her eyes but dropped back into her chair.
Zach clenched his teeth, measuring his response. “Because your ego needs that kind of validation?”
Her narrowed eyes didn’t hide the shimmer of almost tears. Shit, he shouldn’t have gone there. He couldn’t believe he’d thrown a private conversation—one about what parts of them they held back from the world of all things—back in her face.
She breathed through her nose. “Because—and so help me, I can’t believe I’m saying this—it doesn’t work without both of you.”
“What doesn’t?” Hope crept into Scott’s voice.
She glanced up at the sky before turning back to him. “Starting over.”
“Could we?”
“No.” Zach hated the lift in Scott’s question. This was all falling apart. They couldn’t do this.
“Not if you’re not both interested.”
“Bad way to try and keep him in your life.” Scott’s voice had gone flat again.
Does he know? Zach’s head swiveled toward his best friend, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Rae’s do the same.
“So neither of you wants to hear it.” She was on her feet again. “That’s fine. Honestly, I’m not sure there’s room for both your egos anyway.” She strode toward the parking lot.
“Rae, wait.” Scott’s plea hit her back.
She didn’t turn her head once on her journey from the table to her car, and seconds later, she was peeling out of the parking lot.
“Nice. Glad she still only sees her side of things.” Zach pulled his smokes from his pocket and bounced the pack on the table. The words hurt to say, but he needed to recognize the truth in them. It wasn’t like he had anything to do with her reaction. Which was why he wasn’t going to track her down and apologize. Much as every single inch of him hurt because he’d been the one to piss her off.
“You’re one to talk. You couldn’t even hear her out?” The venom was back in Scott’s voice. “You’re so fucking petty, you have to let personal issues come between you and a second chance?”
“There are no second chances.” Not with her and not with Cord. “You can’t do what we did and then try it again. We can’t afford it on our own, and the moment we let investors in the door, we set ourselves up for this to happen once more. She doesn’t know that. She doesn’t see it. She’s too busy trying to make everyone happy.”
“No.” Scott shook his head. “Not everyone. Besides, you know this is what she does, right? How she earns her living? If she thinks we can do it, do you really think spite is a good reason to ignore her?”
Zach was on his feet in an instant. He didn’t even know who he was pissed at anymore. “I think the fact it’s a bad idea is a good reason to ignore her. I’m cashing out. If you don’t want to do the same, don’t throw my future away in the process.”
Scott stood, back stiff and shoulders back, so his full height was obvious. His hands clenched into fists. It was an imposing posture, except Zach had seen it too many times to back down. Neither of them spoke for a moment. Scott finally plucked a twenty from his wallet and tossed it on the table. “She’s right about one thing—there’s not enough room for both of us in anything new.”
And he was gone too, tearing out of the parking lot seconds after dropping into his SUV.
Zach rubbed his face. He didn’t care. It was better this way. The words didn’t devour him—not Scott’s and not Rae’s. Whatever they were clinging to, it wasn’t healthy. Which was why he needed to completely ignore any urge to do the same.
Chapter Thirteen
Zach snubbed another smoke out in his ashtray as his car coasted to a stop on the freeway off-ramp. He leaned his head against the headrest, half paying attention to the red light and waiting for it to change.
How did things get so messy? Obviously the stuff with DM and Kelly were the start, and it had all gone downhill since then. Rae showing up in his war room looking for her sister’s spare key was almost like a second catalyst. Not that he could blame her for the insider trading or shitty DM management.
He put the car into gear when the light changed and let his thoughts drift as he followed the road.
But Scott’s stubbornness—that had to be all her. Even though he’d always been like that. She was trying to drive a wedge between them.
He changed lanes and turned at empty intersections, enjoying the path of least resistance option for going nowhere.
Rae had even used Scott to back him into a confrontation in order to be heard.
Zach ignored the nagging voice whispering he would have done the same to get his own way and had on several occasions. There wasn't a comparison. What Rae was talking about was financial suicide. At least Kelly had had investment capital.
The last thing he needed was to rehash how everything having to do with Kelly was a bad idea. That always led to regret and comparisons with Rae and then the fantasies.
He licked his lips, suddenly realizing how dry his mouth was. He popped the glove compartment open. No gum. He pulled his car into the first parking lot he came to. The shopping center was almost deserted. A single shop was open, tucked away between two abandoned store fronts.
Recognition whispered through him, and he realized he knew this strip mall. He spent a lot of time there in high school. With Rae. There was no way it was the same place. There had never been any customers back then. The sign was the same, but it had probably just been cheaper to keep it when ownership changed.
Part of him didn't like the idea of stepping back into that memory, but he was thirsty, and pride refused to let anything to do with her drive his decisions. Besides, once he stepped through the front door, he could close that part of his past. Because that’s worked out so fantastically for you lately. The sarcasm in his own words rubbed his thoughts raw.
A bell on the handle jangled when he entered the shop. It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the dim lighting.
“Evening,” a cheerful voice called from the counter. “What can I get you tonight?”
He wasn't looking at the coffee shop employee. His gaze had been drawn to the back of the room and a familiar booth.
No.
Rae stared back, cheeks puffy. She blinked, brown eyes a melancholy compliment to the red rimming them.
Zach needed to leave. Closure zero. Getting stuck in the past wins.
“Do you need a minute?” the barista asked.
“He’ll have an Italian soda with cherry.” Rae's voice was clear and empty in the otherwise deserted room. She stayed seated, but never looked away from Zach.
“Half and half?” the barista asked.
Rae shook her head. “No. The cream makes the cherry taste funny.”
Zach wasn't sure what compelled him forward, but he found himself sliding into the seat across from her. The joke tickled something in the back of his mind. Something he didn't want to enjoy. He'd always teased her about it when they were dating. He'd loved to see her blush when he made the comment about the cream and the cherry and winked at her.
That had been more than ten years ago. So much had changed since then.
The barista set the drink in front of him.
Zach handed him a five. “Keep the change.”
“Thanks, man.”
Zach didn't touch the drink. Thirsty didn't seem important anymore. His mind was moving so quickly, he couldn't grasp anything. He wasn't used to being at a loss for words.
“Let's try this again.” Rae finally broke the silence. “Why are you so dead set against my idea?”
“It’s not—”
She held up her hand. “No, that'
s how the conversation went last time. That won't work. How about this? I'm not Kelly.”
The sorrow in her eyes called to something inside him. Zach fumbled for a response. “So I noticed.”
Her cheeks dimpled for a moment before the half smile vanished again. “Are you sure? That night you rescued me at the bar... The conversation we had in the car after... I’ve replayed that in my head so many times since then.”
Don’t let her do this. He didn’t want to linger on those memories. It wasn’t relevant, and it wouldn’t solve anything. “And?”
“You told me our breakup hurt because what we had together was different than what you had with anyone else. Together, we were unique.”
No. Unwanted emotion bubbled up inside. He wasn’t going to listen to this. “We’re talking business. Don’t make it personal.”
She took a deep breath, and her expression went blank again. “At the risk of sounding immature, you started it. This isn’t about the fact we had great sex, or that I still wish I hadn’t walked away from my perfect guy back in high school. And you know what? This is personal. It doesn’t matter if we try and pretend otherwise. I wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t care, and neither would you.”
She took a sip of her coffee, grimaced, and then pushed the cup aside. “I don’t know why Kelly did what she did to the two of you. I don’t know why you and she didn’t work out. I do know it wouldn’t have been possible if she hadn’t had controlling interest in your company.”
“So we’re back to casting blame.”
She clenched her hands, knuckles whitening. Her tone remained even. “No. Not even close.”
He shouldn’t be picking this fight. He needed to hear her out. But she was reopening so many old wounds. “Are you sure?”
“If you’d listen for a minute, you’d know.” She slid down in her seat, fists loosening. Crescent-shaped creases marred her palms where she'd dug her fingernails in.
He wanted to bury it all under an argument, but he couldn’t drag enough fight to the surface. “You talk, I'll listen. No assumptions.”
“I loved you back in high school.”
He swallowed as the unexpected words—the phrase he lived to hear back then—sank in.
She didn't look at him. “I didn't know how to act in a relationship. I'm not saying I'm an expert now, but I have a better idea of what not to do. I would have done anything to keep you.”
“You broke up with me. Left town without even saying goodbye.” He wished the retort had come out with less emotion behind it.
She raised an eyebrow. “Told you I didn't know what I was doing. You're going to insist you acted perfectly?”
“You know I'm not saying that.”
“I’m not suggesting this solution because I'm looking for some sort of sick and twisted vengeance. I don't like the way things went, but those memories define me, and they remind me not to be that person.
It’s also not what’s driving me to offer my help.” She locked her gaze on him, dark eyes sincere. “Unlike Kelly, my stake in this isn’t financial. I’m not going to charge you for the idea. I don’t expect you to give me a third of any of the results. I’m doing it because the two of you are talented and good together, and you got screwed. You deserve another chance...”
She trailed off, studying her fingernails. “Anyway. It doesn't matter. If you’re not interested, I’ll drop it. It’s your decision. No pent up resentment because we don’t agree. No telling people how much you suck.”
“No spending the next decade wondering what you did wrong?” He didn’t know if he was asking her if that’s what she’d done, or admitting his own regrets.
Her eyes shone when she looked at him. “I can't promise that, Zach.”
She stood.
His resolve broke. He couldn't let her walk out with their only solution they had because of spite. He couldn’t let her walk out, period. Scott was right; Zach needed to stop comparing Rae to Kelly. There were no similarities between the two women except their intelligence. Zach was guilty of every single thing he held against her.
And having her around—hanging out, swapping stories, ideas, and gropes—was amazing.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her back down on the bench next to him.
Her knee brushed his leg, and she stared at him, eyes wide.
This was business. The electricity between them was pleasant, but if he was going to do this—if he was going to ask for her help—it couldn’t be because he was still attracted to her. “Do you really think we can start over?” Quickly, he added, “The company?”
“I'm not certain. I have to see both your finances. I promise I don't plan on anyone living off ramen, but there would be a significant shortage of five star steakhouses in your future.”
“Do I get to keep my car?” He tried to sound light-hearted about it. The car was his pride and joy. He'd paid cash for it back before they really made it.
Rae smiled, dimples coming back. “Possibly longer than you were planning on. No promises, but if you can follow a budget both professionally and personally, I can probably make it work.”
An impulse raced through him. The last thing he needed to do was kiss her. Instead, he grabbed his drink. Condensation dribbled onto the table. He took a long swallow, ignoring the watered-down result from all the ice melting.
She ducked her head again and scooted back on the bench, putting a few inches between them.
He tried to fight the ache it summoned. “I'll make things better with Scott.” It was his fault anyway, for being a stubborn ass. “Are you free tomorrow?”
“I—umm...”
“To work through this with us. I mean, we'll pay you a standard consulting fee or something. We'll give you everything you need.” He was rambling. He snapped his mouth shut.
Something in her expression shifted. “I'm not doing it for money.”
“I didn't mean that, but this is your job. I just...” Was he really willing to beg for this? For something he wasn't even sure he wanted? Except he did want it. “Please?”
She nodded and stood again. “I've got time. I was supposed to do something with Scott, but... Things are kind of awkward right now.”
Zach wanted to brush away her sad smile, but if this was business now, he had to keep it business. “Something tells me it'll be okay. I'll pick you up at, like...eight? You're still a morning person, right?”
She smiled. “Yeah. But I can meet you there.”
He shook his head. This was one place he was confident: making the situation look right. “We show up together. That way Scott knows we're both on board.”
She looked like she wanted to protest, but instead shouldered her purse. She extended her hand. “Deal.”
He shook it, trying not to sink into the pulse that rushed through him at her touch.
Chapter Fourteen
Zach couldn’t ignore the scuff of Scott's socks on carpet. The pacing had gotten old hours ago.
Rae stretched her hands over her head, her yawn ending in a squeak. Three displays—her laptop and the two she had commandeered from Scott and Zach—cast a series of sickly glows across her thin top. “Sit down, please?” She rubbed her eyes, muffling her voice.
“That won't do you any good.” Zach propped his feet up on the coffee table. It took restraint to keep his eyes on the TV and not on her. But it was all because he was worried about the numbers she was pulling. It had nothing to do with the way her shirt curved over her tits when she stretched, or the arch of her back as she tried to work the kinks out of her neck.
Whatever had been exploding on TV stopped, and he changed the channel. A new flame-inspired concussion tore from the subwoofer, and Scott jumped.
“Seriously, dude.” Zach tossed a couch cushion at him. “The people below you have to hate you.”
“Whatever.” Scott shoved his hands in his pockets and stopped pacing. His toe tapped against the carpet.
“I'm done.” Rae spun in the chair in front of Scott's des
k. She rolled her head, stretching out her neck.
“And?” Scott was next to her in an instant, looking over her shoulder.
“That's the best I can do for you.” She gestured at the screen. “You two have to decide if you can work with that.”
Zach joined them, standing behind her. A series of spreadsheets with numbers stared back. He recognized the labels, but that didn't mean they made any sense. He was as unsuccessful translating Rae’s work as he was trying to ignore the whisper of her strawberry shampoo. “Point us in a direction.”
She grabbed the mouse and clicked one cell after another. “Each of these numbers links back to a tab. They tell you how much you can spend on salaries, advertising, office rental, all of it, and how I got those numbers. This will keep you solvent for eighteen months. You'll have to start turning a profit by then, or mortgage a house. There are some suggestions in there about things like pre-orders and online monetization to help you meet the goal.”
As she explained, the figures started to make sense to Zach. “What if we take a pay cut?”
She rubbed a spot between her neck and shoulder. “You could, but I wouldn't recommend it. I've given you enough to pay your bills and still have some fun. If you cut yourselves off too completely, you'll be miserable and start to wonder if it's worth it.”
“Not going to happen. It’s worth it.” Giddiness ran rampant through Scott's words. “So we can really do this?”
“Yes.” It was the first time she'd given them a direct, positive answer.
Zach rested his hands on her shoulders, thumbs kneading into her neck. Her skin was soft under his fingers, and she relaxed as he worked almost unconsciously on a knot. He realized he was leaning closer, and moved his head back again. “You're brilliant. I'm sorry I doubted you. One more question. Okay, more than one, but one to start.”
Scott looked at him, something marring the joy in his eyes.
Rae sighed and leaned back into the massage. She closed her eyes. “Sure.”
Zach nodded at the screen, even though she couldn't see it. “That number there...next to office space.”
His Long Shot (Love Games) Page 11