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I fumbled with my words. “I, uh—wait. What exactly are you talking about here?”

“The job interview.”

My eyes squeezed closed. “Shit.”

“Yeah. Piece of shit!”

“Hey! That’s not fair!”

Player slammed his beer bottle down so hard that the people at the tables beside us turned around to stare. He didn’t even offer them a polite, go-about-your-business smile. He just kept staring at me, his eyes flashing like thunderclouds.

“I’m sorry,” I said, holding up my hands. “I was going to tell you about the interview. But obviously, I’ve been a little out of it.”

I thought the sympathy card might get me an inch of grace.

I was wrong.

If anything, he sizzled all the more. “We’re brothers. We don’t keep secrets and sneak around each other’s backs. Not with personal shit and not with business shit either!”

I hung my head. “I know.”

“So imagine my surprise when I get a call from some asswipe over at Premiere Charters to ask for a recommendation.”

Shit. I’d had a phone interview—a screening, really—with the owner, Jan, a few days ago on my lunch hour. We’d scheduled a formal interview for the following week, but I hadn’t thought to mention that my current employer didn’t know I was job shopping. I’d told him about Aaron, of course, but had mentioned we were best friends and had served together. Jan likely assumed he already knew I was on the way out. After all, what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t tell him?

“I didn’t mean for you to get blindsided like that,” I said. “I had a phone interview a couple days ago.”

Aaron folded his arms and stared at me. Unflinching. “Why? Just tell me why. You really want to spend your days flying douchebag rich guys all over the country? Or, better yet, to their fucking private islands? That’s what the future looks like to you?”

The hairs on the back of my neck stood up, but I remained calm. “That’s all I’m doing now. What would be the fucking difference between that and carting a bunch of tourists up and down the coast? It’s the same damned thing. The only difference is I’d get paid a lot more as a charter pilot and could actually, you know, afford the shit I need! Maybe actually get somewhere in life now that I’m starting over at the fucking bottom.”

Aaron stared at me, his look bordering on dangerous. “That’s what this is about? Money? You think that’s what Holly wants?”

“Don’t bring her into this,” I growled.

Aaron smirked, realizing he’d hit the right nerve. “You’re fucking lost, Boomer. And you’re so fucking lost that you can’t even see it. But instead of letting the people around you help you, you’re just gonna keep bashing your damn head against the wall.”

He shook his head and something snapped inside of me. “You think you know me.”

He laughed. “I do, mother fucker. Because, if I don’t know you—no one does.”

I stood up from my seat so fast the chair skid backward. I slapped my hands on the table and leaned in until I was inches away from Aaron. “You know what. Fuck you.”

“Yeah? Well, fuck you too.”

I gritted my teeth and shoved away from the table. As I stalked out the side exit, Aaron’s words followed, “No wonder Holly can’t recognize you anymore! You’re a fucking sellout!”

10

Holly

“Good morning, Holly.”

Noah’s sunny smile lit up my morning and carried me out of my tangled thoughts as I sat staring out the window from the third floor of his building. I stood at his greeting and slung my purse over my shoulder. “Morning.”

He shook my hand and then ushered me into one of the conference rooms I remembered seeing briefly on the tour. My eyes immediately went to the ocean view and let the slow roll of the waves lull me. I hadn’t slept all night and despite the three layers of concealer, the puffy bags under my eyes were still visible. I just hoped that if Noah noticed, he’d assume it was from excitement and anticipation, not from crying myself to sleep.

“It’s all pretty standard,” he said, pointing at the pages he’d placed in front of me. He reached into his jacket and retrieved a smooth, polished pen. “Here. Use mine.”

The pen was warm from the heat of his body and for some reason the entire thing struck me as too intimate. Heat rose in my cheeks and I had a distinct feeling that I was doing something wrong. Rachel’s comments from the day before were still with me. If I wasn’t with Jack, would the conversation where I’d mentioned Noah being a good-looking guy gone differently? Would I have told her I was having unprofessional thoughts about my new boss? There was no doubt that Noah was hot. Any woman with eyes would admit to that. But there was more to it. It was his confidence and the way he carried himself. The way he made people feel as though they’d known him far longer than reality. He was warm and personable but I also had no doubt that he could be a shark when he needed to be. Not in a negative way, but in an aggressive, get-shit-done sort of way.

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