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My twenty-third birthday came and went with little excitement two weeks ago. Not even my boyfriend made a fuss of me. Much like he’s doing tonight. We’ve been together for eleven months and while I love spending time with him, there are some red flags. They haven’t waved too frantically at me yet, though, so I’m waiting to see if they’re perhaps linked to the stress he feels over his work. Mostly, I find him a little impatient with me too often and dismissive of my ideas at times. Nothing too big, but still, sometimes he doesn’t make me feel good about myself.
I met him a few weeks after I had the conversation with Bradford about my work.A few weeks after he gave me the Charlotte Franklin book. A year ago now. Lyle pursued me with determination. He did make me feel good in those early months together. He helped distract me from watching Bradford with his girlfriend. The one who liked all those dramatic displays of possessiveness in public. He broke up with her about three months after I started dating Lyle and has had a succession of women on his arm since then. Lyle has distracted me enough that I actually haven’t kept up with all those women. What I have kept up with is his success in his work. I’ve loved hearing about that. But it has kept us from seeing each other a lot this past year. Bradford has only been at two social functions I’ve attended and because I’ve been with Lyle, our conversations have been short.
Maybe what could have been between us was never meant to be.
That thought makes my heart hurt so I instantly dismiss it but I know that I’ll take friendship with Bradford if that is all that’s ever on offer. Even if have to endure watching his girlfriends put their hands all over him.
“There you are,” Lyle says, joining me in the ballroom as I take a glass of wine from the waiter. “You’re late.”
I sip some wine. “Hardly.”
He scowls. “I needed you here at the time I specified, Kristen, and that was ten minutes ago. Your inability to be punctual may have ruined my chance of networking with someone who can do a lot for my career. I required you by my side for that conversation.”
Lyle can be ridiculous at times with the way he catastrophizes situations. “I highly doubt that. Show me who you need me to talk with and I’ll help you. And let’s not exaggerate things. I’m rarely late.”
His lips press together. “Do not trivialize this. I had hoped that conversation would lead to a couple’s golf day tomorrow, but since you weren’t here, I’ve missed out on that. John wanted to meet you. He won’t invite me to golf until that happens.”
I really don’t appreciate his tone. “I’m not trivializing it. And let’s find John. You know I’m good at wooing people. We’ll make this happen.”
“He’s already left.” He glances past me. “I have to go and talk with someone else now. I’ll be about fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll come with you.”
“No. You’re not needed for this conversation.”
I stare after him as he stalks away from me. Lyle has been short with me the last few days, but this was next level. He and I will be having a conversation about that later.
As I turn back to look around the gala for people I know or want to meet, I find Bradford coming my way. The look in his eyes as he runs them over me, and the way he meets my gaze with heat tells me that even though we haven’t talked a lot this year, everything is still the same between us.Everything.
By the time he reaches me, my heart is acting like we’re in the middle of a race. She’s beating so fast that I’m sure Bradford will be able to hear her.
“Hi,” I greet him. The smile on my face is the most genuine one I’ve experienced for months.
“You look beautiful.” His intense search of my face, along with his velvety voice stir all my butterflies.
God, how I’ve missed him.
My hands go to my stomach to smooth their way down my dress. The dress I wasn’t sure about earlier. It’s more fitted than any dress I’ve worn, which is saying something because most of my outfits are quite fitted. “Thank you.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “You don’t feel beautiful?”
I feel like I ate too much today to be wearing this dress tonight. “Not really, but I appreciate you saying it.”
“It only matters what you think, though, Kristen, not what I think.”
I know he’s right, yet I struggle with that. I always have. Not wanting to get into that, I say, “You look good too.”
He really does, but then, when has he ever not? Besides being so damn handsome it hurts sometimes, he’s wearing another one of his tuxedos that I would beg him to wear all the time if he were mine.
“I look tired, but that’s nothing new.”
“You’ve been working a lot from what I’ve heard.”
“I have.” He takes a moment before asking, “How about you? How’s the search for a job going?”
And there it is. The question he promised to ask me. I wish his memory was awful. If I worked for Bradford and a meeting request popped up on my calendar, I would mark itmeeting deniedbecause I am more than sure nothing good would come from it.
I don’t bother lying to him. This man can see straight through me. “I stopped searching.”
