Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 51427 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 257(@200wpm)___ 206(@250wpm)___ 171(@300wpm)
“What does that mean?”
“Sometimes you miss all the clues,” she says.
Myrtle waves me over to the kitchen counter. “Have a cup of coffee while I tell you everything you got wrong and how to make it right.”
As we chat, I thumb through the mental Instagram of my week with Ellie.
I got all these good, romantic, hopeful vibes from her and then suddenly, she was all Miss Independent before the party.
The last thing I wanted when we stopped at her house was for her to turn to me with that decisive expression and tell me she just wanted to be friends or whatever, so I interrupted her.
But she wasn’t about to go all I’ve got this on me. She was, maybe, possibly, about to tell me she felt the same way I do.
Fuck me.
I missed what was right in front of me.
28
IS THIS SEAT TAKEN?
Ellie
“And then she said, I’ll take ten of those heart necklaces,” Rachel says, setting down her wine glass at the bar, triumphantly.
Delighted with her tale of saleswomanship, I raise my glass to my new friend.
Then my old friend joins in. Maddox is here too, at Max’s Restaurant. He was finishing dinner with a client, so I insisted he join us for a post-dinner drink.
Already, the three of us are thick as thieves, sitting around a high table near the bar.
Maddox lifts his tumbler of amber liquid. “To being a helluva dealmaker,” he says to Rachel.
I stretch across to pat his forearm. “And this guy knows how to ink all the deals. He’s the best in the biz,” I say, proudly.
He waves off the compliment, then directs his attention to Rachel. “Tell me more about the boutique and what inspired you to open it,” he says.
I sit back, enjoying the camaraderie as I get to know Rachel even better. She’s not a replacement for my New York friends. She’s her own woman, and I’m glad I have her in my life now.
I’m glad I have Maddox too.
Like in my TV show, friends make everything better. Friends, too, can help you through heartache.
When Rachel is done telling the story, her brown eyes meet mine in a question. “So, your date…how did it go? You’ve been holding out all night.”
“Yes, inquiring minds want to know,” Maddox seconds.
My poor heart hurts too much. But keeping the story to myself won’t help me heal. “I reconnected with this guy, and we made a deal to spend the week together,” I say as Rachel leans forward, while Maddox squints off in the distance. Weird. He’s usually such a good listener, but everyone has their off days. “We had an amazing time over the last week, and I thought we were both feeling the spark of something more, but then—”
“Excuse me. Is this seat taken?”
I sit up straighter, my eyes widening at the smoky, sexy voice coming from behind me.
This can’t be happening. A curl of pleasure winds down my spine. And I risk a glance over my shoulder.
My breath catches at the sight of the man I’m crazy for. His hands are wrapped around the back of the empty seat.
Like we mapped out on text with opening lines and all.
My heart climbs up my throat. This has to be good. Please let this be good.
“Now it is,” I say, giving him the next line for our strangers-at-a-bar scenario.
But this role play is just between us, so I turn to my friends. “I’ll be fine,” I tell them. “You can go.”
Rachel pushes back in her stool, grinning like you’d better tell me everything. Maddox squeezes my shoulder, then mouths tomorrow as he stands to go.
In seconds they’re gone, and Gabe sits next to me. “I saw you here and I was compelled to come over and talk to you, even though I don’t know you,” he says, leaning into the role play.
Normally, I’ve led the scenes, improvising with him following. This time, I let him tell the story. I’m still hurting over last night, but I’m also delighted that he’s here.
“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, carefully.
He might just be here for more sex. He might just be here to strike an arrangement.
He blows out a deep breath. “There’s this guy I know,” he begins. “He was such a dick last night, and he needs to apologize to his woman.”
My heart jumps, but does that mean he still wants me to be his?
“Does he, now?” I ask, hunting for the answer in his eyes.
His dark brown eyes are vulnerable. “He was moody and cold, and he handled everything badly. And that’s not cool,” he says, but then he winces, drags a hand over his chin. “Shit, Ellie. I’m sorry. I can’t do it like this.”
“Like what?” I ask, alarmed that he’s backing off. Is he saying he thought he could make a go of things but now he can’t?