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“Oh, that’s…”
My sentence falters as I try to wrap my head around how to answer that question.
I go for the simplest explanation. “That’s James’ brother, Aiden.”
He smiles wider. “Oh good. I wasn’t sure if he and you were…”
“No,” I rush out with an adamant shake of my head. “No, we aren’t…anything.”
He stops us when we’re inside the terrace doors, tucked into a secluded alcove of the restaurant. “I know it’s Christmas Eve, and I’m supposed to be with my family and you’re eating with yours, but here, let me give you my card at least.”
“How romantic,” I tease as he tugs his wallet out of his back pocket and procures a business card for me to take.
“It’s not exactly a red rose or anything, but my options are limited.”
A waiter passes near us, and Nate asks him if he can borrow a pen really quick. With it in hand, he turns the card over and jots another phone number onto the back.
“This is my personal line. I don’t give it out all that often.”
“Gotcha. I’ll make sure to pass it on to my sister and her husband.” His brown gaze locks with mine like he’s panicked by the thought, and I laugh. “I’m kidding. I promise to guard it with my life, how about that?”
He grins and gives the waiter his pen back before holding out the card for me to take.
“I don’t usually…”
I know what he’s about to say.
“Neither do I, honestly.”
He looks relieved.
“It’s the dress, I think,” he says, glancing down at my outfit.
“It’s pretty distracting,” I assure him, throwing his word back at him.
He laughs and steps back, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck. “You’ll call?”
“Yes.”
He nods, and then he turns to head to his family.
I stand there in the alcove, watching him walk away, wondering why I feel sick to my stomach.
I have his card in my hand, and I glance down to flip it over and look at the front.
Nathaniel Giddings
CEO Giddings BiosciencesAn eligible bachelor if there ever was one.Chapter EighteenMaddie“Well, what did he say?” Jolie asks as soon as I sit back down.
I have Nate’s card tucked into my hand, invisible. I don’t want to make a show of putting it into my purse, and I don’t want to lay it on the table either. Instead, it sits in my hand like a ticking time bomb.
I peer up at Aiden to see him watching me. He knows. His mouth is tugged into a thin line. His cheekbones look severe. His eyes cast disappointment across the table.
“Maddie—don’t leave us in suspense here,” Jolie says with a laugh. “Did he give you his number or anything?”
“Yes.” I reach down for my purse and slide the business card in as quickly as possible. My cheeks are aflame.
Jolie squeals with delight. “I knew it. I just knew there was a good guy for you waiting right around the corner. You’ve had such terrible luck in the dating department the last few years, and then with Brent leaving like that—”
“Are you going to call him?” Aiden asks, rudely cutting her off.
I flick my gaze to him quickly to find his expression hasn’t softened.
I tilt my chin up and shrug. “Yeah, maybe.”
“And say what exactly?”
My jaw locks in anger. “I don’t know. Maybe I’ll ask him out for a drink.”
“Why? Doesn’t he live here? In Colorado?”
“So?”
Aiden laughs and leans back in his chair, tossing his napkin onto the table. “All right. I’ll just say it. It’s bullshit.”
Jolie and James flinch at the sound of his harsh words.
“Aiden,” James chides quietly. “What’s gotten into you?”
He ignores his brother in favor of continuing our very public, very inappropriate argument. “You’re the same person you were when I left Texas.”
“Oh please, enlighten me,” I respond with a taunting tone. “I’d love to hear your interpretation of who you think I am. You, the person I haven’t even spoken to in over a year. You think you know me?”
He laughs, and it comes out sounding downright evil.
“Of course I know you. You’re Maddie, the girl who will run from her feelings every chance she gets. Oh, a new guy at the bar? Someone else to distract you from the truth? Great. You’ll date him for a few months, string him along, and then break it off before things get too serious.”
I’m seeing red. My fingers bite into the edge of the table, a poor attempt to keep my hands occupied. Otherwise, I’d reach for my butter knife so I could fling it at him.
“You use men to mask the real truth,” he continues.
“Fuck you, Aiden Smith.”
The words come out nice and slow, and oh, do they feel good to say aloud.
My sister gasps in horror, reaching over to pick up Ford, who’s now crying thanks to our immature outburst.
Aiden stands and drops his hands to the table so he can lean toward me. “I see through you, Maddie.”
