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I shook my head as I reached for my wineglass and tipped back another sip. “Tom so does not have a thing for me. And I don’t for him, either.”
“Oh, it’s Tom, is it?” she said with a distinct teasing note in her voice. I let out a sigh, and she reached across the table to steal a bite of the chocolate cheesecake in the corner of my plate. “Oh, that’s good. Really smooth and sweet. Much like Tom Anderson when he’s around you.”
“Nice transition,” I said. “But all your eloquence aside, he doesn’t think of me like that. I’m his secretary.”
“He has obviously flirted with you at company parties and outings. Keep in mind, I’m your date most of the time. I get to watch what happened between you, and I have seen every single time he stares at you. Or smiles like there’s nobody else in the room.”
I shook my head, looking down at my plate of gradually diminishing cheesecake. “Those are all company things. They didn’t mean anything at all. He’s the boss—he’s nice to everybody.”
“You know what’s also nice?” Emily asked.
“Your transition earlier?”
“The river in Egypt. You know it. Denial,” she said.
Finally, the waiter got to the table with her dessert.
“Thank goodness,” I said. “Any longer without food and you might have completely lost your mind.”
Emily and I drank another glass of wine each and nibbled our way through two more courses of dessert before calling it a night. After making plans for our next get-together, I headed home. My phone rang just as I was walking into my apartment. Pulling it out, I saw that it was Tom.
“How is everything?” I asked.
“We’re still waiting for the official investigation report,” he said. “They don’t know much yet, but the fire chief has been hounding all of us.”
“I hope you get things figured out,” I said, kicking off my heels and reaching down to pick them up before carrying them into my bedroom.
Those first few moments of the day without my high heels were some of the most glorious and relaxing. My feet sank down into the deep pile of the carpet, and I wriggled my toes in it.
“So do I,” Tom said. “It’s so frustrating and upsetting here. How about you? How was your day? You have no idea how much I appreciate how hard you’re working.”
“Thank you,” I said. “But there’s nothing really important to report. You need to focus on the stuff going on at home and your family. I’ll call you if there’s something you absolutely need to know.”
“Are you sure?” he asked.
“Yes. Promise. Landon and I have got this. You don’t need to worry.”
“You’re right,” he said. “I know I can trust the two of you. Thank you, again, for being so amazing and dedicated to your job.”
“Of course,” I said. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”
“I will,” he said.
We got off the phone, and I headed into the bathroom for a shower, feeling just a little bit tingly. It was a reaction I was used to from talking to Tom, but it wasn’t one I liked to acknowledge.5TomMorning dawned and I groaned at the sunlight. I had barely slept, and what sleep I did get was fitful. The tiny run-down motel I was in was the only place with a vacancy at the last minute, and I had grabbed the only room they had available. It had been a while since I’d slept in a twin bed, and it was not an experience I planned on repeating. I already planned on finding something outside of town if need be that was a little more comfortable.
I knew my brothers would all be collected at Mason’s house, and I stretched as I tried to decide what time I should head that way. All of them had offered for me to stay with them, but I declined. I didn’t want to impose on anyone, and frankly, the privacy was something I needed. Not just for the ability to process what had happened, but also for when I had work calls, and because I had gotten rather used to being alone.
I told myself I liked it that way.
I almost believed it.
Looking at the ancient digital clock on the nightstand, I saw it was only six, but I couldn’t lie there in discomfort any longer. Sitting up, I stretched and rubbed the sleep out of my eyes. Maybe a run and a shower would chase the memory of my bad night’s sleep away.
Tossing on a pair of shorts and socks and shoes, I took off for the neighborhood streets. I tried to clear my mind and let myself think about work. It was weirdly less stressful to think about how frustrated I was to not be running my company than it was to deal with the heartbreak of the bar.
