I feel so uncomfortable, but Trevor is so sweet, and his cheeks have turned such a deep shade of red, that I feel an overwhelming urge to comfort him at the same time.
“Yes, you have been since you came to Vance,” he says, rushing the words out. “I don’t mean that in a bad way; it’s just that I’ve been waiting in the background, and I wanted my intentions to be clear before I explored the possibility of a relationship with someone else.”
My very own Mr. Collins sits in front of me—a much more handsome version, of course—and I feel just as awkward and embarrassed for him as Elizabeth Bennett did in Pride and Prejudice.
“Trevor, I’m sorry I—”
“It’s okay, really.” The sincerity in his eyes is almost overwhelming. “I get it. I just wanted to confirm it one last time.” He pokes at his pasta a little, then adds, “I guess the last few times hadn’t done it for me.” He laughs quietly, a nervous laugh, and I join in sympathetically.
“She’s lucky to have you as a date to the wedding,” I say, hoping to numb the embarrassment I know he feels. I shouldn’t have compared him to Mr. Collins; he’s not nearly as aggressive or obnoxious. I take a long drink of water, hoping that will end things.
“Thank you,” he says, but then he adds with a little smile, “Maybe now Hardin will stop calling me ‘fucking Trevor.’?”
I smack my hand against my mouth to stop the water from spewing from my mouth. I swallow quickly, then say, “I didn’t know you knew about that!” My horrified laugh fills the small room.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” Trevor’s eyes shine with humor, and I’m so relieved that we can share a laugh, as friends, with no confusion.
My momentary bliss is cut short when Trevor’s smile disappears, and I turn around to follow his gaze to the doorway.
“It smells so good in here!” one of the gossips says to the other as she enters. I feel petty for the level of dislike I feel for them, but I can’t help it.
“We should go,” Trevor whispers, eyeing the shorter woman.
I stare back at him, puzzled, but get to my feet and toss the empty Styrofoam box into the trash can.
“You look stunning today, Tessa,” the taller of the two says. I can’t read her expression, but I’m positive that she’s mocking me. I know I look like hell today.
“Um, thank you.”
“It’s such a small world, you know? Is Hardin still working for Bolthouse?”
My purse slips off of my shoulder, and I quickly grab the leather strap before it hits the floor. She knows Hardin?
“Yup, still is,” I say and straighten my back in an attempt to appear completely unfazed at the mention of his name.
“Tell him I said hey, would you?” She smirks, and with that, she turns on her heel and disappears, along with her evil sidekick.
“What the hell was that?” I ask Trevor after checking the hall to be sure the two aren’t lurking around nearby. “Did you know they were going to say something to me?”
“I wasn’t sure, but I suspected it. I overheard them talking about you.”
“What about me? They don’t even know me.”
He’s uncomfortable again. Trevor is easier to read than anyone I’ve ever met. “It wasn’t about you, exactly . . .”
“They were talking about Hardin, weren’t they?” I ask and he nods, confirming my suspicion. “What exactly did they say?”
Trevor tucks the corners of his bright red tie into his suit. “I . . . I don’t really want to repeat it. You should ask him.”
Given Trevor’s reluctance, I suddenly shiver at the thought that Hardin may have slept with one of them, or both. They aren’t much older than I am: twenty-five at the most, and, I have to admit, both beautiful—in an over-the-top, too-much-spray-tan way, but attractive all the same.
The walk back to my office is long, and a strong feeling of jealousy starts gnawing at me. If I don’t ask Hardin about the woman, I think I’ll go insane.
The moment I get to my office, I call him. I need to know if he’s coming here tonight, and I need some reassurance.
Zed’s name flashes across my phone screen before I can bring up Hardin’s name in my contacts list. I flinch a little, but decide I might as well do this now.
“Hey,” I say. But I sound “off”—too excited, too fake.
“Hey, Tessa, how’s it going?” Zed asks. It feels like it’s been so long since I’ve heard his smooth voice even though that isn’t the case.
“It’s . . . going.” I lay my forehead against the cool surface of my desk.
“Sounds rough.”
“It’s okay, just a lot going on.”
“Well, that’s why I called you, actually. I know I said I was going to be in town Thursday, but I’ve had a change of plans.”
“Oh?” Relief washes over me. I look up at the ceiling and let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Well, it’s okay. Next time it’ll work—”
“No, I mean I’m actually in Seattle right now,” he says, and instantly my heart rate skyrockets. “I got in last night; had a hell of a drive. I’m only a few blocks away from your office, actually. I won’t bother you there or anything, but maybe we could grab some dinner or something when you’re done for the day?”
“Um . . .” I glance at the clock. It’s fifteen minutes past two, and Hardin still hasn’t responded to my messages. “I don’t know if that’s good for me, actually. I think Hardin is coming in tonight,” I admit.