9
Florence
I pull Marin up on my phone and hit the call button before pulling out of the parking lot. "This woman won't work," I tell her. "As soon as she saw I had money, she started digging about my finances, planning shopping trips. There's no way I can trust someone like that. She'd sell my secrets to the highest bidder."
This is the fourth woman I've met since Josie walked out on me last week, and I'm getting frustrated. I haven't even talked to any of the others about what I'm really looking for. I haven't felt safe divulging that information to any of them.
"Maybe you shouldn't have pissed off your doctor friend," she teases. "I saw sparks flying when you were talking to her. You should call her back."
"You embarrassed me." I grind my teeth. "I should let you go for that." There's no excuse for the way she behaved that night. She's never pushed the line like that before.
"Did it ever occur to you that I was happy you found a match?" Her voice softens. "You're going to end up an old, lonely spinster lady at this rate, Florence."
"I'm happy with my life the way it is, thank you very much. Except for this asshole who seems to think he can get away with the shit he's pulling at work."
"We'll find someone."
"We don't have time," I argue through clenched teeth.
The rumor mill online has been growing. It's just a matter of time before it all blows up in my face.
"Have you thought of calling her back? She seemed sympathetic to your situation, and I could feel the chemistry between the two of you."
"I don't want to appear weak." I slow down for a red light and crack my window open. I need fresh air.
"Not everyone considers an apology to be a sign of weakness, tesoro." Treasure. That's what my grandmother Elena calls me.
"If you think she'd actually consider it, why don't you call her?"
"I thought you'd never ask," Marin says smugly. "I'll call her right now."
"Wait. It's eight at night. You can't call someone at eight on a Friday night about business."
"You can if it's business of the heart," she teases. "I'll get back with you as soon as I talk to her."
By the time I get home, she's gone for the evening, but she has the oven preheated and dinner ready to heat up. There's a note on the counter to call Josie if I'm willing to apologize for talking to my friend Marin the way I did, and if I'm willing to explain what she meant about melting my edges.
I groan.
I drop my briefcase on the table and sink into the couch. I do think that Josie is the best person to pull this off with.
But what happens when I start having feelings for her? She's made it clear that she's still in love with her best friend.
I guess that makes the decision easy. I'm not going to make her forget the love of her life. She dislikes me enough to walk away and leave me stranded in this mess.
I can ignore my feelings.
My phone rings.
I'm too lazy to grab it off the table, but I have my earbuds in.
"Hello," I say flatly. I assume it's Marin, checking on dinner.
"I thought you'd be happier to hear from me," Josie's voice comes through. "Your friend Marin made it sound like an emergency."
I sit up straight. "Josie?"
"Sorry, I assumed you had caller ID and I was programmed into your phone. I guess that's presumptuous of me." There's bite in her voice.
"No, I do have you in my phone." I sigh, standing up. "My phone is in the other room. I thought it was going to be Marin calling again to harrass me." I'm not used to people calling on my personal line. Almost everything goes to Marin if it's personal, and to Gwen if it's about work.
"What's she harassing you about?" she asks, obviously amused.
"You," I tell her flatly. "I was going to call you after I made dinner. It's been a long day."
"You make your own dinner?" Amusement again.
"Can you stop assuming the worst of me just because I work hard and I'm successful? Please?"
I don't understand why her digs get to me.
"I'm not assuming the worst of you because you're successful," she assures me. "I'm assuming the worst of you because that's the side you've shown me." She's quiet for a minute. "Except for that glimpse of the real you at the bookstore."
I roll my eyes. "Why do you think that was the real me?"
She doesn't answer right away. When she does, her voice is soft. "I see you, Florence. I felt the real you that night."
I swallow hard. "What do I need to do to get you back?" I ask quietly.
"You mean for appearances? Or because you want me?"
That's a good question.
I clear my throat. "For appearances, of course. I feel like this whole thing is going to blow up in my face any minute."
"Marin said you vetted a few other women, and none of them were right for you."
"Not after you."
Why is she so easy to talk to?
"Look, I need to make dinner and eat. I'm famished. Do you think we could meet for lunch tomorrow to iron things out? Would you be willing to work with me? You're still my top choice."
"Is that because you miss looking into my baby blues?" she teases.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the wall. "Your eyes aren't baby blue, Josie. They're the color of deep sapphires." I exhale slowly, trying to calm my racing heart.
She laughs softly. "I can't tomorrow. I normally work with Renna until noon on Saturdays. What about right now? I can meet you somewhere for dinner."
"It's Friday. Aren't most places busy right now?" I haven't been out for dinner in ages. Marin always picks things up for me.
"Not this late, Florence." Her laughter is warm, teasing. "The bars will start getting busy soon, but we can find someplace quiet for dinner. My treat. What are you in the mood for?"
"Food." I sigh. "I honestly don't care. But I just got home from work. I'm not dressed to go out," I argue.
"Change into something comfortable. I'm wearing jeans. I'll pick you up in fifteen minutes."
I open my mouth to protest, but she's already hung up on me. When did she take charge?
Twenty minutes later, I climb into her well-worn silver Mercedes.
"Sorry," she says, shifting into gear. "I forgot traffic this way is worse on Friday nights."
"How old is this baby?" I run my fingers over the worn leather seat, both impressed and amused. It's old, but it's in excellent condition.
"Sixteen years old," she says proudly. "I got her when I finished undergrad. Mom and Dad bought her as a graduation gift. That was almost fourteen years ago."
"You've taken good care of her." I glance at her, dressed casually in jeans and a simple lavender blouse. "Where are you taking me?"
She glances over, taking in my sundress and sandals. "What do you think of pizza? Please tell me you like pizza."
"Yes, I like pizza." It's a rare treat, especially since Marin does most of my meal prep and tries to keep it healthy. "As long as we skip the onions."
"Already in the plans, Boss." She grins.
I raise an eyebrow. "What else is in these plans of yours?"
"After we eat, we go back to your place and talk details." Her tone is casual. "Then I think I'll kiss you, just to get that out of the way. We should get comfortable with each other. It'll make acting in public easier. For some reason, I think you'd be pretty awkward about it if the first time you kiss me is in public."
She plans to kiss me.
My stomach growls. "You're not going to get up in the middle of dinner and walk away from me this time?" I ask her as she pulls into the parking lot of Trattoria's.
She shakes her head. "Not in public. But if you treat the staff here the way you treated Marin the other night, you'll have to answer to me."
"I would never treat service people like that."
She comes around to open my door, offering me a hand. She leans in close, her breath close against my ear. "You shouldn't treat her that way, either," she whispers, pulling back before I can respond.
I inhale slowly, trying to control my breathing. Even if I were interested in her, she's not available. She's hooked on her best friend.
What the hell am I thinking?
This is a business arrangement, not a bona fide date.