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It was replaced with an ice cold one, slipped nimbly between my outstretched fingers.
“It went,” I said, tipping the beer his way in gratitude as he sat down in the opposite, matching chair. Aiden’s hand held a beer of his own. He saluted my little toast, and we both drank.
For a while neither of us said a word, as we absorbed the near-perfect silence. Earlier in the evening, an icy rain had started. The only sound now was the soothing patter of it hitting the clay tile roof, somewhere high overhead.
“Look, I know Elliot can sometimes be intense,” he said finally.
“Intense, huh?” I let out a sardonic hiss as I took another pull of my beer.
“Yes. Which is why I wanted to check up on you.”
I sighed a little, before finally shifting my eyes his way. It was an appreciative sigh. But also a little dismissive.
“I’m grateful for the concern,” I told Aiden, “but I’m also a big girl. I can handle Elliot Chase.”
“Oh,” he chuckled. “I know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You do?”
“Yes. He came home… quite impressed with you.”
The leather creaked and groaned beneath me as I sat up a little. “What do you mean by that?”
“Well up until today he barely talked about you. No offense or anything,” Aiden added quickly, “it’s just that he’s so busy he’s hardly gotten to know you. Not like Connor and I have.”
I squinted at him over the neck of my bottle. “And now?”
Aiden leaned back, letting his head settle against the headrest. He twirled his own beer between two big, but still nimble fingers.
“Now he won’t stop talking about you.”
I bit my lip in contemplation, thinking about the events of the evening. After dropping the paperwork at his lawyer’s office we’d cruised the City together, its streets glowing and shimmering in the nighttime rain. I’d pointed out the best little-known steakhouse on the upper east side, and Elliot had the driver bring us there. Without even asking he’d ordered us a pair of the thickest, most beautiful tomahawk steaks I’d ever seen, all pink and hot and glistening with juices. Tearing into them was a religious experience. Like eating butter.
“He’s extremely impressed by you,” Aiden went on. “And Elliot is rarely impressed by anyone.”
“You grew up with him, huh?”
“Yes.”
“What wasthatlike?”
Aiden shrugged. “He wasn’t as intimidating back then. Actually, he was a bit of a nerd. Introspective. Calculating. Super intelligent.” He scratched his chin, then smiled. “But he sucked at a lot of things, too.”
“Like what?”
“Competitive sports, for one. Elliot’s athletic as all hell, but he was terrible at being on teams. He always wanted the ball, always yelling at teammates who failed. He never wanted to give up control.”
“And yet you went into business with him.”
Aiden chuckled through his next mouthful of beer, and his handsome face broke into a grin. “Yes. But I’ve known him since the third grade. I know exactly how to handle him. Probably more than anyone else on the planet.”
“Okay, sports,” I said. “What else?”
“Girls.”
“Really?Him?” I scoffed. “He’s gorgeous.”
“Oh believe me, he had his gawky phase,” Aiden said defensively. “But even afterward he never knew how to talk to women. He could attract them, but he’d always blow it by opening his mouth. Or in most cases, not opening his mouth at all.”
