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Keaton squinted. There was something kind of familiar...
“Asher Benson,” he spluttered, recognition flooding him. “Are you pulling my leg?”
Shock registered on August’s face. “You know him?”
“Yeah.” He raked a hand through his hair, trying to keep control of the need to grab her wrist and haul her straight out of the restaurant.
You have no right to tell her what to do.
But he sure as shit could warn her.
“We were in the bullpen together at my first firm.” His lip curled into a sneer.
Asher Benson waseverythinghe hated about Wall Street wrapped into one smarmy snakelike package. It was Asher who’d found out about Keaton’s “colorful” past and shared it with the rest of the juniors at the firm, shredding any chances that Keaton could pretend he was one of them. Asher was the one who’d nicknamed him Checkbox, claiming that the firm had only hired him because of a program for underprivileged youth, which was categorically not true. And Asher was the one who’d planted an item he’d stolen from the boss’s office in Keaton’s desk, attempting to get him fired when Keaton kicked his ass at an internal competition.
It was only Thomas Fairchild’s belief in Keaton that saved his job.
Did Asher ever see any punishment for pulling such a move? Hell, no. His daddy was a big-time criminal defense lawyer and all those assholes knew they’d need someone like him in the future. In fact, Keaton was pretty sure it only proved to some of the higher-ups that Asher had the kind of ruthlessness required to make it on Wall Street.
“I take it you’re not a fan,” August said, her mouth twisted. “Why am I not surprised?”
They were back around the corner now, out of sight of their dinner guests.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“You don’t likeanyone.” She rolled her eyes.
“That’s not true. I like...you.” Hmm, maybe she had a point. Keaton tended to view the possibility of new friendships as something to be avoided. As far as he was concerned, a small circle of friends and family was preferable, but a tiny circle was even better.
After all, the less you let people into your life, the less of a chance you’d get hurt.
“You tolerate me,” she replied with a smirk. “Bigdifference.”
Keaton frowned. Hmm, maybe his teasing might have gone too far lately. “False. I don’t tolerate anyone. You’re either in the circle or you’re not. There’s no in-between.”
The corner of August’s lip twitched. “In any case, this date is going really well and I don’t want your ‘you shall not pass’ vibes to ruin my night, okay?”
“How did you even meet him, anyway?” Keaton asked, ignoring her question. When he tried to poke his head around the corner to have another look, August grabbed him by the shirt and pulled him back.
The action brought them close together, and another wave of her intoxicating perfume hit him. Up close, he could see that she’d coated her lashes with mascara and lined her eyes in a sexy way he’d never seen her do before. Her round face was perfectly framed by all that luscious red hair and she looked...
Stunning.
Clearing her throat, August let him go and stepped back as if she’d touched something very hot. “Keaton, can you just...not.Please.I don’t need a big brother, okay?”
God, the way he was looking at her now...there wasnothingbrotherly about it. He swallowed as he dragged his eyes away from the sexy curve of her neck. “I’m curious, that’s all. Because I know Asher lives on the Upper East Side and only eats at places with hundred-dollar appetizers, so I’mreallycurious about how you two crossed paths.”
“Are you saying I’m not good enough for him?” Her cheeks reddened.
“What? No!” He shook his head. “Far from it. I just...”
Wait. Why wasn’t she answering his question? If she reallydidhave fears about not being good enough for the guy, then she sure as shit wouldn’t let Keaton know about it. Usually, she’d laugh and tell him to shove it if he tried to get under her skin. So no, he didn’t think this was a confidence issue.
Maybe there was another reason...
“Why won’t you tell me how you met?”
“Because it’s none of your business, Keaton. Jeez.” She fiddled with the strap of her purse and avoided eye contact. “You’re so pushy.”
