Page 30 of I Choose You

She’d done it on purpose. I should have hated that she’d made me sweat and wait for her, but dammit, I had to give her credit.

I smiled, putting my hand in my pocket to treat myself to the opportunity to check her out. She wasn’t in the smart and almost prim workplace attire I’d seen her in so far. No pantsuits and neutral dresses here. In fitting jeans, bold red heels, and a cut-off shirt beneath a leather jacket, she looked nothing like the consummate professional who’d firmly insisted on discussing the contract.

She looked sexy, dressed down in a raw, hip, and almost edgy way, showing me another layer to her. I had a brief flashback to her in those alt-rock band T-shirts in high school, and I appreciated that she hadn’t lost her style but furthered it into a bold statement.

Do not mess with me. That was what she said, but the slow smile on her lips suggested she might welcome the challenge in case I should try.

“Hi.” I held out her chair and relished another chance to be close to her. At the office, her perfume had enticed me to draw in deep breaths and commit her to memory. Here, I was surprised to detect a hint of alcohol.

Had she needed something to take the edge off? Was she nervous?

“Hey.” Her simple, almost flippant reply didn’t sound timid.

Maybe it was only me who was overthinking all of this.

As she pulled her chair closer, I reclaimed mine and struggled not to stare. Workplace Brooke was beautiful and smart. Casual-dinner Brooke was sexy and edgy.

I was fucked either way.

“Hi.”

Shit. I’d said that already.

She only smiled.

“Thought you might not show.”

Shit! I had no business being defensive or accusing her. She had every right to come or not. I usually had more finesse than this, cool and charming to break the ice.

“You did?” she asked, picking up the menu and breaking eye contact.

Damn, she really wasn’t going to mess around.

“I appreciate you coming. I really do look forward to catching up more.”

She shrugged. “I’d rather focus on what lies ahead.” Glancing at my glass, she asked, “What are you drinking?”

I’d take her lead. If she wanted to leave the past alone, we could—for now. After we placed our orders, I reminded myself to chill. In her office, she’d softened at the mention of her mom, so I used that as another way to break into the conversation.

It was a good gamble. While the tension between us hung like an awkward cloud, it dissipated. Our drinks came and later the food. Throughout it all, we spoke about what we’d been up to. I told her about college, and she referenced the business school she’d attended. I commented on friends getting married, and she mentioned a best friend booking a Contiki tour. We veered more into talking about work and our jobs than personal things. It didn’t feel like an interview, but I wanted to know more.

“Work is good and all, but what else have you been up to? What about your life outside the office?”

She smiled, not making eye contact. Her defiance to not face me excited me somehow. Made her more mysterious and not eager to please me like so many others.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Yes, I would. That’s why I asked. But I let her claim that point. I’d get another chance to figure her out. Prolonging the suspense thrilled me. If she wanted to play hard to get, I’d bust my ass off to get her.

After she ordered another round of drinks, I realized how much she’d been relying on liquid courage. That was fine. I’d drive. But until she got too tipsy, I was determined to make the most of this night.

“I’m happy to hear that you’re well,” I said. “Truly.”

She lifted her glass to toast that, and we continued chatting.

She didn’t protest when we agreed to call it an evening. While it didn’t feel like a date, I looked forward to seeing her home. She wasn’t drunk, but she showed me an easygoing side to her I wished I could experience again.

As it turned out, Brooke was a fun drunk, not a mean one.