Page 80 of Miss Fortune

When she came downstairs again fifteen minutes later, I was fairly bouncing off the walls. I had a busy day ahead of me and needed to get into the office and back into the comfort of my routine.

She stopped by the counter to pick up the mug of fresh coffee I’d made her, taking a leisurely sip.

My teeth were grinding at the delay. There was no nice way to put it. “I need to go before I’m late.”

She paused, the cup to her lips. “How about I take an Uber home, so you can go straight to the office?”

Despite my panic, I shook my head. “I’ll drop you off. It’s fine.”

As soon as we got in the car, she tried to make small talk. “You have trial this week?”

“Two.”

I was thankful when she asked no further questions. My gaze kept darting to the time on the dashboard while my mind started a mental list of what I scheduled today, already feeling behind. Finally, I pulled up curbside to her apartment building.

Daisy turned toward me. “Thanks for the ride. Guess I’ll see you—”

“Saturday.” A Saturday we’d spend at her house where she couldn’t dig into my secrets. “I won’t have time before then. Enjoy your week.” Shit, I hadn’t meant to cut her off, but I was spiraling into a full-blown freak-out.

Chapter Thirty-Four

Daisy

I did not miss weekday Caleb whatsoever. I shouldn’t have been shocked by his ability to flip the switch to ice cold this morning, but I’d still been taken off guard. How? Because I’d let my guard down. For a moment I’d let myself believe the relationship could progress. That he’d needed yesterday as much as I had, schedule be damned.

But no, this morning was a harsh reminder of what this was, or more importantly, what this wasn’t.

He took off like a shot once I closed the passenger door. If it wasn’t clear before, it was now. Nothing came between Caleb Morrison and the career he loathed.

By Friday night I hadn’t heard from him and wondered if we still had our standing date for tomorrow.

Since Kelsey was in town for the weekend, we made plans for the night. Thankfully, time with her took my mind off of other things. She sat at my kitchen counter, sipping the glass of wine I’d poured for her.

“What sounds good for dinner?” I asked.

“I need carbs, preferably the type which come from a Thai food place.”

“Good for you.” I handed her a take-out menu from my kitchen drawer. She’d gone from a woman who’d let her ex control every aspect of her life, including her diet, to a woman on the hunt for noodles. Sometimes it was the small things you needed in order to heal.

“No menu necessary. I’m ordering the drunken noodle you introduced me to last time. Also the dumplings, and maybe the soup.”

“Is the job in San Diego going all right?” Because there were carbs, and then there were the coping kind of carbs. I should know, about now, I could use them too.

“It’s fine.” She picked up the wine bottle and went with a heavy pour.

“It doesn’t sound fine. What’s going on?”

“It’s the owner’s son, Dominic. He’s just a lot.”

“A lot how? Is he bothering you?”

She took a long swallow and blew her bangs out of her face. “No, nothing like that. He’s professional and nice, but you know the type of guy who’s too much. He enters the room and sucks the oxygen out of it. My brain fries if I look too closely at him.”

Ah. I was starting to understand. “Do you have a picture of him?”

She tapped on her phone. “Here.” She flashed a photograph of a handsome man at what appeared to be a red-carpet event.

“Wow. Dimples and all.” No wonder her brain cells fried. Charisma fairly jumped off the screen.