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“You know I would never use your gender in any of our business matters. Have I done that to you before?”
When I open my eyes, I almost pity him. Because, of course, he doesn’t see that. How could he? Emerson has no idea what it’s like to be the only woman in a world of men, and all things considered, he’s one of the good ones. But treating me like he treats everyone else doesn’t mean things have been equal for me.
“Of course not, Emerson. I didn't mean that. I’ll give it some thought, okay? I promise.”
His face is still stoically serious as he leans in. “You could run the whole thing yourself, Maggie. Make it the way you want it. I wouldn’t offer that to just anyone.”
I swallow down the pride hearing that makes me feel, but it’s not that easy for me. But, instead of arguing with him, I tuck the idea away for the moment and nod my head in agreement. “Thank you.”
After a tense smile, he glances down at the case we’re hovering over. When his eyes trail up to my face, a spark of mischief hinting there, I blush and glance away.
“Shopping for anyone in particular?” he asks.
“I was doing inventory,” I lie, and he laughs in response, which means he reads right through it.
“Okay.” Then he stares down at the collars before subtly adding, “I’ve heard the snapping buckles are more comfortable than the others.”
My cheeks start to heat up with embarrassment. I can’t talk about this with him, for multiple reasons. The first and biggest one being that hissonwould be wearing it for me. Then, there’s the discomfort of me being too reserved in general to discuss it so openly.
“I’m doing inventory—”
“I don’t mean to pry,” he says, interrupting me. “But I heard you ladies talking in the kitchen that night, and I know you took the quiz. I know you well enough to guess what the results were. And I’m just offering it to you without obligation, but if you ever need advice—”
“I don’t,” I snap. “Thank you, though.”
“Don’t feel bad, Maggie. You’ve got this.” He rests a reassuring hand on my back and I force a smile.
For a moment, I almost wish I could talk to him about this. Emerson has been my closest friend for over a decade and up until now, work has been the only thing we have in common.
Then, with a wicked grin, he adds, “Get the black one. He’ll love it.” And once again, my cheeks flush and my eyes widen, and I try to hide my discomfort. God, if he only knew what he was suggesting…
With that, he stands up and adjusts his suit. “The call with the Phoenix owners is in an hour. I can’t do it without you.”
I smile. “Relax, little boy. I’ll be there.”
With a wink, he turns and walks away. My smile fades as I glance back down at the collars. It was a short-lived dream. If I’m moving to Arizona anytime soon, I can’t give Beau the commitment this would symbolize.
So maybe an expiration date is exactly what we need. If there is a deadline, then my heart will know better than to get attached. Once I leave, this is over.
* * *
The meetingwith Phoenix runs longer than I expected, and it’s well past seven when I finally leave the club. I haven’t seen Beau all day, and that shouldn’t be as weird as it feels. The rain is coming down in sheets when I run out to my car. The moment I’m safely tucked inside the driver’s seat, I pull out my phone.
I’m sorry I worked late today, I say in a text.
We still communicate through the app because it’s more discreet this way. A moment later, he responds, I don’t like you driving in this.
I smile at his sweet concern. More and more every day, I lose sight of the spoiled, selfish man I thought I knew and love this new version of Beau, who shows more compassion than I thought possible.
I’ll be careful.
Can you come over? I’ll pick you up.
A moment later, he responds.
Isn’t that a little suspicious?
It is. If his mother saw him getting into my car, the whole town would know by morning.
