The One I Want

“She sounds like it, but I’m not sure I’ll ever meet her. I’m just covering the reception desk temporarily while Melissa’s on maternity leave.”

Her perfectly arched eyebrows pull together. “Oh, I thought you and Andrew were. . .” She looks across the tables at Andrew standing at the other end, the confusion deepening in her skin. When she turns back, she says, “My apologies. I think I misunderstood.”

“It’s okay. Drew and I have become good friends.” I’d love to confide in someone and share how cute he was eating rocky road ice cream, or how he called me babe when he was drunk, and now it’s a running joke. Or even that he slips and allows kismet into his life when he’s not busy rejecting that it exists. There are so many things I’d love to talk to a friend and share, and I’m pretty sure Gil doesn’t want to hear them.

Although she seems to understand the reality of my relationship with her brother-in-law, her expression soon changes, and a good-natured grin appears. She takes another pull from the straw like she just might not believe me. “That’s sweet that you call him Drew. You’re the only one.”

I didn’t realize I had slipped with his name. “Oh, um—”

“I shouldn’t have said anything. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Nick’s said so many nice things about you and Andrew that I thought it was . . .” She glances at the group nearby, and then whispers to me, “Not so private. But I can imagine that’s best when you work together.”

Before I have time to process that she’s practically welcomed me into the family by assuming Drew and I are having some torrid love affair, she asks, “Do you like shopping? I’ve built a business around it, but my best friend, Tatum, and I are meeting for brunch on Sunday and then going shopping. I’d love for you to join us. By the way, your outfit is to die for. From the Louboutins to the Chanel sweater—impeccable.”

“The sweater was my grandmother’s. She loved fashion but was conservative in the way she dressed. She has a closet full of Chanel and St. John.”

“It’s vintage? It’s gorgeous. And there’s nothing like the classic round toe pump.”

I like her. She could be a model from her beauty alone, but her kindness makes her approachable. I haven’t talked about clothes or even cared about them since my grandmother passed away. Lately, I’ve chosen what to wear the night before, and I’m pretty sure it’s because of Drew. The name alone has me scanning the crowd for him. When our eyes meet, he smirks. There’s something mischievous, something naughty about it, but I know it’s just for me.

I smile right back and then take a drink. Talking clothes and shoes, shopping, and brunch with women around my age sounds amazing, so I say, “I’d love to come on Sunday.”

“Great. It will be so much fun.” We exchange numbers before she rejoins Nick’s side and gets caught up in a conversation with her brother, Jackson.

Close to calling it a night, I head for the restroom. When I come out, I see Drew standing near the entrance to the main part of the bar. “Are you waiting for me?” I tease with a wink.

“Yes.” There’s no deviation in his tone. He’s dead serious, or sexy serious, which fits him better.

His answer surprises me, and my mind starts spinning, wondering if I am reading this situation all wrong. “Am I in trouble?”

“By the looks of it.” I don’t quite catch on until it registers that he’s referring to himself. That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

My lips part, allowing me to take the breath I need to calm my racing heart. It doesn’t work, so I lean into it, the thread of friendship narrowing with every minute we spent together. I almost wonder if we’ve been fooling ourselves all along and were always destined to end up like this. “I was just leaving.”

“What a coincidence. I’ve already said my goodbyes.”

21

Drew

I can’t blame the alcohol.

I’d only had one drink. That’s my professional limit when I’m with colleagues. Clients are different. When they’re trusting you with their money, they want to know you can hold your liquor. How one equals the other has never made sense, but I didn’t make the rules. I just have to play by them.

Play . . .

Is that what Juni and I are doing? Playing? It’s a game we’ll lose if we’re not careful. But caution was left at the bar along with my code of ethics.

Being a man is no excuse for wanting her the way I do, but I’m not alone in my thinking. I’ve seen the way she gets jealous. Michelle about had Juni blowing steam out her ears. That was good for my ego and a turn-on, but it’s been silent in the back of the car, leaving me to second-guess myself.