“August? He’s hating his job and trying to figure out what the hell to do.”
“Being an adult’s not as easy as you all thought, right?” He smiled. There was a sad glint in his eye. Some things never got easier.
“Jameson is doing his accounting thing and helping his mom with Teresa. I showed you pictures of the cake, right?”
He scooped up a bite of pasta, choking on it when I showed him the photo on my phone.
I thumped him on the back.
“Is that a spider?” He wiped the pasta sauce from his mouth with a napkin, trying to catch his breath through the laughter-filled tears.
“No, it’s a train, obviously. Teresa’s big into trains.” I snatched the phone back and looked at it again, squinting. It didn’t look like a—oh dear god. It was absolutely an unholy abomination when I tilted my head just right. My phone dropped to the table and I flipped it over.
“I’m sorry.” Tears streamed down his face. “I’m sure you all worked so hard on it.” His shoulders shook so hard, he could barely get the words out. The hand banging on the table was the nail in the coffin of my composure.
“Teresa was so happy when she saw it.”
“Was she afraid if she wasn’t, it would devour her soul?” He took a few deep breaths, his gaze darting toward my phone. “I’m sorry, that was a wonderful thing you did for Jameson’s sister. She’s lucky to have so many people around her who care so much.”
“She wants us to make her cake again next year.” I twirled my spaghetti with my fork.
“That poor child will have nightmare fuel for the rest of her life. What about the rest of the guys?”
“Who?”
“You know who. Hunter and Everest.”
“I wouldn’t classify them as the rest of the guys. Well, yeah, Hunter is cool. He can be part of the rest of the guys.”
“You always give Everest such a hard time.”
“How do you even know him?”
“You got us tickets to a club box every time you played in town and he was there. After four years, we were bound to chat.”
“I didn’t know he came to the games with the rest of the guys.”
“He always seemed very impressed with you whenever we were there.”
“Probably trying to butter you two up.”
“Or maybe he was impressed that you were out there on the field living your dream. You wanted something and you took it.”
“I don’t think that’s why.”
“It’s what he said.”
“Everest said that? Everest van Konig?”
“That’s what he said.” Sam shrugged and cleared the plates from the table.
With an oversized container of pasta and garlic bread, I was sent on my way.
Back home, the silence in my apartment filled my ears. I chucked my keys onto the table and slipped my food into the fridge.
Grabbing my football, I tossed it from hand to hand and paced.
29
Zara
Popping into the coffee shop around the corner from Simply Stark—the one where Leo and I had had our explosive first meeting—I slipped on the ring like I did whenever Leo and I were working together. The weirdness of having it off had eclipsed the weirdness of having it on, which was insane, and told me Leo an I had been working together too much, putting in too many hours. But this was our last event. Finally!
Already…
Once it was finished, we’d put together the final presentation and things would change. The truce would be over and the no-holds-barred grab for the Winthorpe account would be on.
There were whispers and more than a few discreetly lifted coffee cups pointed at the tall, broad man who stood nearly a head above most people. The same one who filled out a white button-down better than anyone I’d ever met. The same one who was mine—well, not mine, mine. I threw the brakes on that brain blip. Leo wasn’t mine. Pretend-mine.
He stood three people from the front, talking to the woman behind him. I grabbed my free coffee cards from my bag and stepped out of line. The quicker we got our coffee, the quicker we’d get to work. That was the only reason I felt compelled to hand these over—not to find out what he was saying to the woman with the killer chestnut blow out who kept smiling at him.
“Hey, Leo.” I stayed out of line, so no one thought I was cutting. “Can you get me—”
He started, but smoothed his look of surprise once he saw it was me. “A medium cookie crumble cappuccino?”
“Yeah, that. I have these cards.” I held out my small stack of free coffee cards.
“Gingersnap, come on.” He pushed them back to me.
“Oh my god, that ring is freaking amazing.” The woman who’d been speaking with Leo looked at him and back at me and down to the ring. “Are you two engaged?” Her voice at the end of engaged shot up like she was trying out for a falsetto role. Heads turned our way.
Before he could jump in to let the woman who’d been twirling her hair around her finger know that under no uncertain terms would he ever think of me as his girlfriend, let alone fiancé, I flung myself on the self-dignity pyre and beat him to it.
“What? No! No, no, definitely not. We’re one hundred percent not engaged. We’re just friends—barely friends. Right, Leo?” I laughed and nudged him with my elbow.
He stared at me for a beat before turning back to the woman in line. “She’s absolutely right. We’re definitely not engaged, we’ve barely made it over the hurdle of being able to stand one another. Right, Zara?”
I kept my smile plastered on my face even though it suddenly felt bitter and strained. We’d gone to a concert and had a few drinks. Maybe a little flirty, but here he was flirting with a woman in line. And now he’s saying he can barely stand me. Flirty was his natural state, like breathing, or a reflex, like a flinch when someone hit you in the face with a water balloon.
“He’s so right. Sometimes looking at his face makes me want to run screaming from the room. Or hail a taxi to get away from him by jumping in front of it.”
“This one.” He jerked his thumb in my direction. “She’d rather gnaw her own arm off rather than leave her tablet alone for more than ten minutes. If it was fitted with a few extra attachments, she’d probably consider it the perfect boyfriend.”
“And let me tell you about the way he goes to bed at night with his football. You know how some people have a stuffed animal from childhood. Not Leo, he cuddles up with a worn leather ball at night.”
We looked to the woman Leo had been talking to, but there was no one there. Only an empty spot and a slowly closing front door that jangled as it slammed behind her retreating figure.
An older woman poked her head into the empty space. “Are you two finished? The line has moved and I saw you try to cut.” Her squinty glare ended the pissing-one-another-off competition Leo and I had fallen into.
I shoved the cards into his hand and stepped back, waiting outside. With my arms wrapped around myself, I shifted from foot to foot. The day had started so well.
“Here.” Leo handed me the plastic cup and my free punch-out cards. “And keep these, I don’t need them to buy you a cup of coffee.”