CHAPTER TWELVE
CADE
“Oh, fuck,” David said.
“Yeah, exactly.”
We had seats at the bar at The Little Violin, a restaurant for the see-and-be-seen in Palm Beach.
After dinner adjourned, we stuck around and ordered beers, waiting until our well-heeled guests left before commiserating about how the meal had gone.
David thought the group liked the proposal of a forty-thousand-dollar investment in their real estate app.
I thought the offer was too low for their liking.
But now we’d moved on to the topic of Bella.
“So, you like her,” David concluded.
I shook my head. “No, I’m saying she’s hot, and she looked it walking away.”
“Like most girls on FanZone.”
“Not like that. Not in a cheap kind of way.”
David sipped his beer. “This is... um... interesting.”
“I want to be friends with her,” I said, staring at my sweating glass of dark ale. That wasn’t entirely true, and I wasn’t surprised when David laughed.
“I think she needs friends,” I insisted. “She seems lonely.”
“I didn’t think you were going to develop a crush on her.”
“It’s not a fucking crush. We’re not eight.”
My thoughts drifted to Bella more than once during dinner—not only to the superficial allure of her appearance, the way her skirt hugged her form, or how she seemed so vulnerable and open in my office, but to our genuine connection.
It was rare for me to confide in anyone like that.
My parents had shown me that long-term relationships were a place of misery.
My last two relationships had been superficial at best; both women were more like accessories than partners, there to enhance my image but lacking the depth to engage with me.
But with Bella, there was something different.
Not only had I been impressed with her dedication to her younger sister, but her youth didn't detract from having intuitive insight. In fact, it seemed to enhance it. She listened, really listened, when I talked about the pressures and expectations of my role, something I hadn’t experienced in a long time.
“This is business,” I said, the words sharp but hollow, like they were trying to convince me as much as David. My throat tightened, betraying the lie I wanted to believe. “Only business.”
David snorted, leaning back in his chair. “Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
“The final stages are all that matter right now. That’s where my head’s at.
” But even as I said it, my mind slipped, unbidden, to the meeting earlier.
I envisioned her laugh, the way Bella’s eyes lit up when she talked about the design, and the way her presence seemed to pull the air from the room.
I shook my head, as if I could dislodge the thoughts. “Nothing’s going to distract me.”
David’s lips quirked, his voice low and teasing, but heavy with that annoying certainty. “Okay.”
I shifted in my seat, irritation prickling under my skin. I was uncomfortable with the truth he was poking at. “Bella Moretti’s a nice kid,” I said, using the word kid deliberately, a flimsy shield to distance myself from her and whatever my feelings were starting to entail.
“She’s, what, twenty-five? Barely out of grad school.”
David’s comment landed like a stone, stirring ripples I didn’t want to face. My chest tightened, a mix of defiance and dread. I wanted to argue, to insist it was nothing, but her face flickered in my mind again. No, it wasn’t just business. Not anymore. And David, damn him. He knows it.
“We have absolutely nothing in common,” I tried. “No, this is about PR, and that’s all.”
I was attempting to draw a line, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew they were hollow. The connection I felt with Bella was undeniable: a mix of professional respect and a burgeoning personal interest I couldn't easily dismiss as a mere business strategy.
Dear God, maybe I am screwed.