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He studies me for a moment like he’s getting great enjoyment from this conversation before eyeing Owen. “I don’t recall you ever dating anyone who liked hiking on a Friday night.”
Owen looks at us from across the island where he begins cutting steak. “That was a mistake.”
“I have to agree,” Bradford says before looking back at me. “Would you like a drink?”
“I like that you’re not a man who makes a decision for a woman, but I think we can both agree that I do not need another drink,” I say as his phone sounds with a text.
He glances down at the phone sitting on the countertop in front of him and mutters, “Fuck, she just doesn’t know when to leave well enough alone.”
Owen eyes him. “What’s she done now?”
Bradford taps out a reply before looking at Owen. “She’s arranged a fucking interview for us withYR Magazine.”
“She means business,” Owen says.
“She’s about to learn what happens when she pushes me,” Bradford says darkly.
“Who are we talking about?” I ask, not even caring that my question is maybe a little rude since I don’t know Bradford and am forcing my way into their conversation.
“The woman destined to ruin my life.” Bradford throws some more whiskey down this throat.
I frown. “How? Is this someone you’re in business with?”
“I would say no to that, but that’s exactly how she would describe it.”
I keep frowning. “Okay, so because I’ve had one too many cocktails… Youarein business with her? Or you aren’t?”
“It’s his fiancé,” Owen says.
“She’s not my fiancé,” Bradford says emphatically.
“You’re as good as married,” Owen says.
“Okay, stop,” I say. “My brain is far too slow for this tonight. If I’ve understood correctly, you’re not engaged to this woman, but you will be soon, and then she’s going to ruin your life?”
“Yes,” Bradford says.
I stare at him. “Is this like some kind of arranged marriage deal?”
“From the dark ages?” Bradford says dryly. “Yes. Although my future bride would have my balls for telling you that. She’s fucking intent on the world thinking we’re the real deal. I’m not sure how anyone in their right mind will ever look at Cecelia Aniston and me together and think there’s passion between us.”
I lean in close to him as my intoxicated thoughts chase around after each other. “You said Cecelia Aniston?”
He nods. “Yes.”
My voice drops to a whisper as I say, “You know she’s gay, right?”
Bradford barks out a laugh while looking at me like he thinks I’m the best fucking thing of life right now. “Yes, Charlize, I know she’s gay.”
I rest my elbow on the island so I can then rest my face in my hand and contemplate the puzzle of all this. “Right, so as far as the world will think, your dick is the dick of all dicks and turned Cecelia straight. That’s the story you’ll stick with?”
Bradford lifts his glass of whiskey and toasts me. “That is the story I am now running with. If you ever decide to work in PR, call me. I could do with a good spin doctor.”
I’m about to ask him why he needs a spin doctor when he receives a text that causes him to snatch his cell up and leave the kitchen to make a call.
I look at Owen, watching for a moment as he prepares dinner. He moves around his kitchen with ease, like it’s a completely natural thing for him to do. I don’t think I know anyone who seems as comfortable in a kitchen.
“You look good in the kitchen,” I say.
