Page 43 of Conflicted


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For a moment I almost forget about his friend—that is until we walk into the restaurant and I see her sitting at the table, waiting for us. She stands up, her smile infectious as she waves us over. Her long blond hair is piled stylishly on top of her head, the loose curl escaping, cascading down her neck.

“Hey you,” Aaron murmurs. His eyes shine as he leans in to kiss her.

She laughs and throws her arms around him. I stand there awkwardly, not sure how to respond. Eventually Aaron remembers I’m there.

“Lacey, this is Lucy. She’s a friend of mine, and a psychiatrist who does consulting for me sometimes. She’ll be doing the assessment on Duane.”

“Hi Lacey, it’s a pleasure to finally meet the girl I’ve been hearing so much about.” Lucy takes my hand and squeezes it warmly. She’s so friendly that I can’t help but grin back.

During dinner we talk about the case—or more they talk and I listen. I watch them interact with interest. Aaron is the most relaxed I’ve seen him, and the way she keeps reaching over to touch his arm and laughing at everything he says makes me wonder if there was something between them. Or still is. I tense, surprised at how jealous I feel when really I have no right.

It’s a just a stupid crush.

After dinner, I wait next to Aaron’s car for him to drive me home. My arms crossed over my chest, I wait for them to say goodbye, tensing at the sound of their laughter. Finally, Lucy waves and walks towards her car. I try and hide how bad a mood I’m in as Aaron unlocks my door, opening it for me.

“I hope you found that useful,” he says, locking his seatbelt into place. “Luce is a great person to have on your side. I think she’d be great for you to consider working with in the future. She’s going to set you up with a meeting with the director of the facility she consults at.”

I resist the urge to laugh. Useful? I spent the whole night staring daggers at his girlfriend. I barely heard a word she said. I hate this feeling of jealousy, especially when I have no claim on him.

“You seem to get along well with her,” I say, clicking my jaw.

“She’s a good friend.”

“Just a friend?” I ask, keeping my voice light.

“Just a friend,” he confirms. He narrows his eyes at me, the tiniest of smirks appearing on his mouth. “You okay over there?” he asks.

“I’m fine,” I grumble. “You two just seem awfully close.”

“Uh huh,” he says, amused at my tone. “Good friends usually are. You don’t have any good friends of the opposite sex? You don’t think it’s possible?”

“Friendships with the opposite sex are rarely that straightforward,” I mutter. I lean forward and flick on the radio, hoping that signals the end of the conversation. It does, and we drive the rest of the way in silence.

Halfway to my place, he pulls to a stop outside an apartment building. I glance over at him, confused. Did he forget I’m still in the car?

“Sorry, I just have to send a file off,” he murmurs. “Do you want to come up and wait? I’ll just be a second.”

“Sure,” I say, curious to see where he lives. I unbuckle my seatbelt and climb out of the car. The walk up to his apartment I spend psyching myself out. Why did he stop at home? Surely the file isn’t that urgent that he couldn’t wait an extra half hour?

As we step out of the elevator, I’m so nervous. Everything about Aaron makes me jittery, especially when I have no idea what his intentions are. I follow him inside, ignoring the curious gaze of his doorman. We walk over to the

elevator and wait. My hands in front of me, I play with my fingers while he is distracted on his phone. I swallow past the giant lump in my throat, trying to force myself to calm down. At this rate I’ll pass out in his apartment. I cringe at the thought. I’d die if that happened.

We exit on the top floor, where there is only one apartment. Of course he’d have the penthouse. He earns enough to own this whole building. He unlocks the door and flicks on a light.

“The living room is through there—make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink? Coffee? Wine?”

“A wine would be nice,” I croak, my voice sounding foreign to me. Hell, I don’t even drink wine. If he notices how weird I’m acting, he doesn’t say. He disappears, and comes back a few minutes later carrying my wine and a scotch for himself.

“I’ll put the television on for you,” he says, pressing a remote. “I’ll just be a sec.”

I wait a few seconds and then walk over to the window. His view is incredible. In the distance I can see the harbor and the bridge, surrounded by lights. I glance around his apartment, taking in his tastes. Everything is perfectly in place and expensive-looking. I walk over to the sofa and run my finger over the soft leather . My hands are shaking. I take a deep breath and a big sip of my wine. Relax, Lace.

“Sorry about that.”

I jump and turn around, not expecting him back that quickly. He smiles and nods at the window.

“Pretty impressive, huh?”

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