He looked crestfallen. “Do you mind if I ask why?”
“For starters, Byron, I’m too old for you.”
He frowned. “No, you’re not. You’re only—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Never announce a woman’s age. Not to her face anyway.”
“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “Guess I still have a lot to learn about women.”
Lexi smiled, touched by the note of self-deprecation in his voice. He was so sweet, so quaintly innocent. She thought of Quentin, whom she’d also known since he was eighteen. He’d always exuded confidence and charisma, an innate magnetism that had belied his youth. He’d had a swagger long before the word was popularized.
Stop thinking about him, she silently ordered herself. You’ve already expended enough emotional energy on that man. Enough is enough!
“Lexi?”
She blinked at Byron. “Did you say something?”
“Yeah.” He hesitated. “I asked if there’s anything I can say to convince you to have dinner with me.”
“Hmm.” She pretended to consider him, cataloguing his clean-cut good looks, dimpled smile, smooth brown skin and warm chocolate eyes. His designer suit accentuated his lean build, and she remembered, from his days as a waiter, that he had a cute tush. Hedefinitelyhad potential if she’d been on the prowl for a boy toy. Which she wasn’t.
But maybe you should be,a little voice enticed.
This Friday marked what would have been her four-year wedding anniversary, a day that was bound to be difficult for her. Maybe a date with Byron was what she needed. A pleasant distraction to help take her mind off her problems—namely, Quentin.
But she couldn’t use Byron like that. It wasn’t fair to him. “You should be going out with someone your own age,” she told him. “A handsome, successful guy like you? I bet you have to beat the girls off with a stick.”
He shrugged dispassionately. “I’m not really interested in any of them.”
I’m interested in you.The words hung between them as clearly as if they’d been spoken.
Lexi sighed. “Truthfully, Byron, I’m in a…weird place right now. I’m not sure I’d be very good company.”
He gazed at her. “This ten-minute conversation I’ve had with you has been the best conversation I’ve had all day.”
“Oh, kiddo.” She laid her hand over her heart. “You’re really sweet, know that?”
“That’s what I’ve been told.” He flashed another one of those shy, boyish smiles.
And she sighed in resignation. “All right. Pick me up at six.”
On Wednesday night, Quentin drove home a hero.
He’d just won one of the biggest cases of his legal career.
After a speedy deliberation, the jury had found in favor of his client, awarding him $2.8 million dollars in compensatory and punitive damages. The hefty settlement was a repudiation of the defendant as well as the entire health-insurance industry.
Since that morning, news of the verdict had been splashed all over the cable news channels. Quentin had been contacted by reporters from around the country and had received an outpouring of support from perfect strangers, who’d flooded his inbox with emails. He was scheduled to appear onLarry King LiveandGood Morning Americaon Monday.
At the office, Marcus had broken out Cuban cigars and champagne, and made an effusive toast that had Quentin’s ears burning with embarrassment while his colleagues laughed and ribbed him.
Old girlfriends and lovers had been blowing up his cell phone all day, coyly offering to help him celebrate his victory in proper fashion.
Yeah, he was everybody’s hero today.
Except the one person whose opinion mattered the most.
For the past two days, Lexi had been ignoring his phone calls. At first he’d been annoyed. Then incredulous. Then dejected. By the time he’d left her a blistering fourth message, he was deadly furious.
