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"Who cares?" I throw the response out so flippantly. The truth is that I care. I want to understand Nathan's motivations but there's only one person who can explain that to me and it's him. I've avoided him for more than a week now and I'm finally able to get through an entire day without thinking about him every second.
"You do." Bryce nods in my direction. "You're all torn up inside over this. I can see it."
"You're too sensitive," I joke. "I'm fine." That's a bold faced lie. I'm not fine. I'm finally skirting the edges of okay. Fine is way off in the distance but I'll get there. I have to.
He pulls the wilted lettuce from under the bun before he takes another bite. "I wanted to ask you…" his voice trails as he chews. "I wanted to ask you about work. How's Drew been around you?"
"I talked to my supervisor," I wince as I say the words. Ratting out Drew wasn't something I wanted to do but working with him isn't an option for me anymore. Once I knew about the bet, I realized that allowing him to continue to harass me at work wasn't going to fly. Either he had to leave or I did.
"What did they say? Did he get in shit for it?" He raises a brow as if he's expecting me to confess that they lined up a firing squad to take aim at his crotch.
"He'd already asked to be moved to another restaurant on the Upper East Side." I can hear the relief in my voice so I know it's equally apparent to Bryce too. "I haven't seen him since the bar."
"I still can't believe you clocked him." He lets out a deep belly laugh. "You're tougher than you look."
I take a small bite of another fry. "You have no idea."
***
"Boxing gloves?" I try to stifle a laugh as I throw open the door to the apartment. I half expected it to be Trudy, Bryce's girlfriend. She'd texted me earlier saying she was making a surprise visit and to not warn Bryce. She wanted to crawl into bed with him when she arrived and I was secretly envious of their bond at this moment.
"You pack a mean punch." A deep voice floats into the air as the gloves move to the side to reveal Garrett.
"You're Nathan's friend," I spit the words out without realizing how vile my tone is. I may as well have been talking about finding a rat in my apartment. There was no disguising my disgust.
He reaches to hand me the gloves. "You're not going to hold that against me, are you?"
I look down and realize in that moment that I'm only wearing a robe. I'd been almost ready to hop into bed when the knocking at the door pulled me down the hall. "I haven't decided yet."
"You're wondering what I'm doing here." The statement is swollen with suggestion. Please don't let this be another man who thinks it's fun to get me into bed for sport.
I raise my arm to block his entrance into the apartment. It does little good considering he towers above me. "You'll tell me," I push back. I feel a blush pull across my cheeks when I throw my memory back to the bar and my first meeting with him. I didn't actually suggest we fuck each other, did I?
"I want to talk about Nate." He looks over my shoulder into the apartment. "Can I come in?"
I hesitate briefly. If I don't let him in, I'll never hear what he has to say. Is that such a bad thing? He's likely just another member of the joint committee on how great Nathan Moore is. He's going to sing his invisible virtues just like Cassandra did.
"I won't take long." He taps his foot as if that's going to spur me along.
"Did he send you?" I push the boxing gloves into his chest. "If he did, you can leave now."
He looks down at me and his expression softens. "No. I haven't seen or spoken to Nate since you took that guy down at the bar."
I doubt he's telling the truth. He's Nathan's old friend after all. That is what he called him, right? "Nathan and I are finished."
"You'll want to hear this." He tips his head towards the living room. "Give me
a few minutes, Jessica. That's all I ask."
Chapter 8
"You're a lawyer too, aren't you?" I teeter on the edge of the couch, holding tightly to my robe.
"What?" The wide grin that accompanies the question speaks volumes. "You have something against lawyers?"
"I have something against liars," I counter. "Nathan is a liar."
He pulls his hand through his messy brown hair. "Nathan's crazy about you."
