Chapter Twenty-Four – Cullen
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CULLEN
“ T his seems like a bad idea.”
I stroll behind Bridget as she speed walks down the street like a woman on a mission—which she technically is.
I would like to say that I’m not sure how I got myself into this situation, except I’m fully aware of why I’m chasing her blindly down the street on a Wednesday afternoon when I should be preparing for an upcoming showing.
“It’s a great idea.”
“It’s borderline stalking.”
“Stalking can be a love language.”
“The police might disagree with that.”
“Just shut up and walk faster. Seriously, your legs are twice as long as mine and I’m wearing three-inch booties.” She glances back at me. “We don’t want to miss her.”
Part of my sister’s grand plan to help me win Verity back was to enlist the aid of Bridget. As the only person without a regular nine-to-five job, she has the spare time. Which is how she was able to sprint into my office at three in the afternoon and demand I drop everything to follow her.
“There it is!”
Bridget points a finger at the Toss It store at the end of the block.
“And you’re sure this is the right one?”
There are probably thirty different locations of this restaurant around the city.
It is one of the most popular go-to lunch spots for working people in the city.
You can order ahead with their mobile app, and all their salads and bowls are customizable, no matter what your preferences or food restrictions might be.
“Yes, I’m sure. It’s the one with the closest proximity to her office, and yesterday her story showed the bodega across the street.” Bridget slows her steps, and I fall in line next to her. “She should be here any minute. She posted at three fifteen the last three days, give or take a few minutes.”
“Like I said, stalking.”
“She’s the one with a public account.”
“Still, what if she—”
“Oh!” Bridget backhands my chest, the giant rock on her finger stabbing me. “There she is.”
I follow her line of sight to a lithe brunette power walking across the pedestrian crossing, eyes glued to the phone in her hand.
“Now what?”
“Now, we introduce ourselves.”
When I don’t immediately step into action, Bridget grips my elbow and tugs me forward.
“Hi! Sorry to bother you but—”
The woman continues walking right past us, as if she didn’t hear a word I said, and tugs on the metal handle of the door to Toss It .
It doesn’t deter Bridget in the slightest.
“Excuse me.”
She reaches out and taps the woman’s shoulder, eliciting a startled jerk from her. The brunette turns around while simultaneously plucking a small white earbud from her right ear.
“What? Can I help…you?” Her initial annoyance trickles into confusion before spreading to recognition. “Bridget Vaughn?”
“The one and only,” she beams back.
“Wow. Hi. You’re stunning.”
“Stop. Thank you.”
“What are you—how can I help you?”
“Hannah Hayes, right?”
Her starstruck expression muddles with slight confusion. “Yeah?”
“Gorg. Just had to double-check. I have a friend who would like to talk to you.”
She steps aside and gestures to me with her palm up, like she is presenting me as a dish on a silver platter.
Hannah’s eyes roam over me for a second before the corners of her lips quirk up in a practiced feline smile. She presses her fingers to her chest.
“Hannah. Pleasure to meet you.”
“Cullen.”
Her smile melts faster than ice cream in the Arizona heat.
“Like, Cullen Cullen? Verity’s Cullen?”
I like the sound of that.
Verity’s Cullen.
“That’s me.”
“Oh.” She gives me another once over, searching for who knows what. “Huh.”
“What?”
“You look pretty good for a thirty-something-year-old divorcé. Still got all that hair, and it’s not even a smidge gray.”
Her words launch themselves at me like arrows, and Bridget stifles a laugh.
“I’m thirty-five, not fifty-five.”
Hannah snorts. “Wow. Verity said the exact same thing.”
“How is she?”
“Shouldn’t you know? You’ve become her new travel companion.”
“We don’t exactly talk.”
I got her to say exactly one word to me over the course of five days, and it was purely by accident. Never in my life did I think that the word sorry would be as satisfying to hear as it was from her lips.
The longer this drags on, the more desperate I become for her. Making Verity mine is becoming something of an obsession, and I am fully invested in making her heart my own.
“Hannah, I—”
“Hold that thought.” She swipes open her phone. “My lunch is ready.” Without even giving us a second glance, she steps around us and heaves open the large glass door, joining the sea of office workers floating inside the restaurant.
Bridget pushes onto her tiptoes, voice a low hush. “Don’t blow this. You have one shot to convince her.”
“I know.”
I am finally getting somewhere with Verity. Each day I spend walking with her to work, a brick comes loose from the wall she put up. I know I am getting close to it crumbling completely.
I saw the glint in her eyes this morning when she opened the door of her apartment complex and hurried down to see what I brought her.
There was no longer that trepidation; she is starting to get comfortable around me again.
So much so that she wasn’t even hiding her stares or trying to keep distance between our bodies.
Yesterday, she was this close to resting her head on my shoulder as we rode the nine stops to my station.
I just need to give her another little nudge.
We’ve come up with a few different ways to do just that—including a little gift that should be arriving tonight—but the crux of it all lies in the envelope in my back pocket.
“Walk with me.” Hannah breezes past us, clear plastic bag in hand.
Bridget and I step into action, following her path.
I’ll admit, she’s a lot different than how Verity had described her. I was envisioning some easygoing, slightly crass woman. Not the sarcastic fintech chick before me.
“You’re in a hurry. Isn’t it your lunch break?” Bridget huffs, trying to keep pace.
“Yeah, but I have to leave on time tonight for my date, so I planned on working while I ate.”
“Right.”
“So, what is it? I doubt you tracked me down to ask about my salad order.”
I clear my throat. “I was wondering if you could do me a favor.”
“Figured. Tell me, Cullen. Why should I help you?”
“Because we both care about Verity. Because I’m determined to do whatever is necessary to win her back.”
“Even if winning her back could ruin her career? Is that really caring for her?” Her gaze cuts like a blade.
“I won’t let that happen. I’ll protect her from Celine.”
“Will you?”
“I’d fall on my sword before letting it pierce her, Hannah. I promise you that.”
“You’re a dedicated dude. The men I fuck don’t put in half the effort you have, and you two haven’t even smashed.”
Now that sounded more like the Hannah that Verity had described.
“When I want something, I put in the grind to get it.”
“Even though you’ve only known her a few weeks?”
“When you know, you know.”
“Didn’t you think that about Celine once?”
Her tone isn’t malicious, merely curious. She’s testing me, and I understand that. Verity is her best friend, and she’s looking out for her. It’s the exact same thing I’d expect Chloe and Bridget to do.
“Celine and I were young, and there’s a lot more to our story than you’re probably imagining. Just trust me when I say that by the time you get to my age, you know what you want and you don’t settle for less.”
“Not a bad answer.” She slows her pace, coming to a stop outside a tall, marble office building and crosses her arms. “Okay, I’ll help you. What’s the favor?”
“I need you to give her this.” I hand Hannah the envelope from my pocket.
“What is it?”
“A ticket to the ballet tomorrow night.”
“Stop. She is going to die!” The genuine sparkle in Hannah’s eyes puffs up my pride. “You just earned yourself a couple extra points with me.”
“Thanks?”
“But why don’t you give it to her yourself? Don’t you want the credit?”
“If I ask her to go with me, she’ll make up some excuse.”
I considered putting the ticket in one of her morning pastry bags or in one of the bouquet notes, but I didn’t want to risk her throwing it out, whether on purpose or by accident.
I am confident that Verity still wants me, but I’m not confident enough to believe she’d agree to another date just yet.
Which is why I needed another way to lure her there.
After she explained to me her childhood love of ballet, I quickly swindled my way into securing the best tickets in the house for us.
I’ve never seen a ballet in my life, and going to one isn’t anywhere near the top of my bucket list by any means, but it is something she likes and that is enough for me.
“Ah, I see. If I ask her to go, it’s less sus.”
“Exactly.”
“Smart idea.”
“My idea,” Bridget grumbles, clearly feeling like a child left to play in the sandbox on her own.
“So, you just need me to give this to her? That’s easy enough.” Hannah tucks the envelope into her purse and then gives me a salute. “I’ll do my part. The rest is up to you, my dude.”
“Thanks, Hannah. I appreciate it.”
“No worries.” She tilts her head to the side, giving a reserved wave. “It was really cool to meet you, Bridget.”
“Course. You too.”
Hannah slips through the revolving doors and into the marble building. Bridget prods me in the side with one of her sharp nails the second she’s out of sight.
“Way to take credit for everything, Mr. Show Off.”
“Hey, the ballet was my idea.”
“And using Hannah was mine, as was the handbag, and all the internet stalking I did of Verity’s life.”
She pouts, and I reach out to ruffle her hair.
“And I thank you dearly for all your hard work.”
“You better. None of this comes for free, you know.”
“Oh really? Here I thought you were helping me out of the goodness of your heart.”
“A Vaughn always collects.”
I roll my eyes at my pseudo sister.
“Fine. When Verity and I are back together, I’ll owe you.”
Because we will get back together. This isn’t an “if” situation.
I meant what I’d said to Hannah.
I’ll win her back, at any cost.