10. fallon
TEN
fallon
I was correct in assuming I’d have no time before meeting Ryan for dinner. I didn’t know he was coming to town, but the extra shipments of books from his author should’ve tipped me off. I don’t think he would expect dinner with me in exchange for books, but I also don’t want to risk the relationship. The newest book release is the first in a series. I’d love to continue receiving signed copies for the next installment, so I must maintain my friendship with Ryan. He’s pulled back on sending me selfies, so maybe he’s accepted that a friendship is all I want from him.
Ryan is already seated in the restaurant that is far too fancy for what I’m wearing. Thank God they don’t have a dress code because that’s precisely the embarrassment I would never recover from. But fuck, a steak sounds divine.
“Fallon!”
I hear him calling my name over the soft music playing from overhead speakers, though he doesn’t need to shout at all. I had already spotted him when I walked in. He is dressed for a place like this, but he doesn’t say anything about what I’m wearing when he stands to greet me.
I do.
“I didn’t have time to change after I received your text.” I try to smooth my hair down. I had a brush in my bag, at least. Getting the knots out of my Rapunzel-esque hair was a bitch.
“You look fantastic, Fallon.” He kisses my temple during our side hug.
That’s a little more intimate than usual.
I clear my throat while sitting in the chair positioned across from him. “Thank you. And thank you for the books. The first shipment sold out immediately, so I appreciate you securing more for me.”
He places his hand over mine and squeezes. “Of course.”
He’s never touched me this much in such a short time. I have a feeling he’s expecting a little more than dinner tonight. And don’t get me wrong—Ryan is a catch. Sleeping with him wouldn’t be horrible. But doing it in exchange for books seems… transactional and icky .
And I don’t have feelings for him. Sex has never been a hobby for me. I’ve read too many books. Romanticized it too much. I envy people who can sleep with someone simply for pleasure. Unfortunately, my attachment style attaches a little too hard to men with whom I share intimate moments.
I blow out a slow breath and peruse the menu. Since sitting down, my stomach has twisted into knots, and a steak doesn’t sound as appetizing as when I walked in. “It was such a long day,” I say, focusing on the lighter portion of the menu. “We trained a new employee, and the extra shipments have worn me out. I might not be able to stay out late tonight.”
Ryan doesn’t mask his disappointment when he frowns. The need to please people gnaws at me, but I can’t cross that boundary with him. Too much is at risk if it were to go south between us. Plus… well, Fitz shouldn’t be a reason at all.
Yet, he is. He was helpful today. My initial judgment of him might’ve been wrong. I mean, yes, he’s arrogant. But he’s also intelligent and inquisitive. Beautiful. Mysterious. And I find myself thinking of him outside of the store.
“How long are you in town for?” I inquire, breaking the silence. I can squeeze a coffee date into my schedule if he’s not leaving tomorrow. Aside from the books, I genuinely enjoy Ryan’s company. He travels often and always has a story to tell me. “I’ll be at the book convention in Los Angeles again. That’s in a couple weeks, right?”
“I leave the day after tomorrow. The convention in Los Angeles is sold out.” He pauses while the server leaves us glasses of wine. He must’ve ordered these before I arrived. “There’s supposed to be a thousand people there. It’ll be a great time for you to build more connections.”
“Oh!” I smack my forehead. “I have the business cards for the goody bags. Thank you again for including them.”
Finally, he smiles again. “Of course. Alyssa will include them in the bag with the event exclusive special edition.”
I lean forward and whisper, “Can I snag one of those?”
He matches my energy, leaning toward me to reply, “I have one in my suitcase with your name on it.”
I clap my hands together excitedly. “You’re the absolute best, Ryan. Not that I need another edition. I can’t wait until the second book releases. How is Alyssa handling the sudden attention? I imagine it’s a lot of pressure.”
His earlier joy morphs into a sigh as he slumps back in his chair. “She’s overwhelmed. She went from having time to write whenever she pleases to interviews and meetings while still having a deadline for the next book.”
I take a sip of my wine. “If Alyssa ever needs a break, she can come and write in my living room. I’m hardly home anyway. It could be a little oasis for her.”
Grabbing my hand, Ryan kisses one of my knuckles. “I will offer that to her, Fallon. You’re always so generous.”
I’m about to pull my hand away when a familiar scent wafts over me. It hits me all at once, and I turn my head, searching. I spot him at the bar two tables away from us. His back is to me, but his head is turned, giving me a glimpse of his steep jawline. Fitz. Fitz is here.
“Um,” I fumble, taking my hand back. What do I do? Do I stand up and greet him? Call him over? Would Ryan consider that rude? We haven’t ordered yet. Maybe Fitz wants to do more than sit at the bar and drink. I didn’t tell him I was coming here, did I? If I had, I doubt he would’ve come.
“Fitz!” I didn’t fully finish processing my thoughts before his name came tumbling from my lips.
Ryan follows my gaze just as Fitz looks over his shoulder at me. He hasn’t changed since he left the store, either. Maybe he was craving a steak, too. It is what this restaurant is known for.
I wave. Why the fuck did I just wave?
Beer in hand, Fitz stands from the barstool and coolly saunters toward us. Ryan looks from me to Fitz again, but I can’t stop studying Fitz. What is he doing here? Of all the restaurants in Sanderling, did he happen to stumble into the one where I’m having dinner? “Fitz,” I say, warmer than anticipated. It’s not like I just saw this man an hour ago. “Have you eaten?”
Fitz takes that as an invitation to sit in the empty chair between Ryan and me, sliding a menu from the table and popping it open. “I haven’t. I heard this place has the best steaks in all of New Hampshire.” Then, he glances at Ryan and extends his hand. “Fitz. I work with Fallon.”
“Th-this is your new employee?” Ryan asks, blinking.
I take a long sip from my wine glass. “In the flesh. Fitz, this is Ryan. He’s Alyssa’s agent, which is why we received more signed copies of her book today.”
“Ah,” Fitz replies, perusing the menu. He seems about as interested in my company as he would be watching paint dry. “We had a long evening of unpacking those together.” Fitz glances up with a slight grin. “Thanks.”
I don’t stop drinking from my glass until the wine is gone, and Fitz signals for more, watching me with a hint of amusement. “Thirsty, Fallon?” he asks with a smug smirk.
Ryan rolls his shoulders back. “Fallon will be visiting me in a couple weeks. She attends a book convention in Los Angeles every year. It’s actually how we met?—”
“Interesting,” Fitz interrupts, placing the menu on the table and resting his elbow on the table, leaning slightly closer to me while maintaining eye contact with Ryan. “She mentioned conventions earlier. It would be a great learning opportunity for me if I attended one with her.”
My gaze bounces back and forth between Fitz and Ryan like a game of Ping Pong. Are they… fighting over me? This would probably be a moment of swooning if I were a main character in a romance novel, but right now, it just feels too hot, and I might start sweating soon.
Change the subject.
“Fitz.” I pull his gaze back to me. “I know you’re from Boston, but I never asked what brought you to Sanderling.”
Fitz finishes the content of his bottle, his eyes pinned to mine like we’re the only ones in the restaurant. And for a delusional moment, I think his reason is me, though that would be impossible. But imagine being the reason why someone like him abandoned his home. The constant mystery surrounding him is one of his biggest draws—that and his love for classics.
Fitz lowers his bottle to the table. “I needed a change of scenery. I’ve been in Boston my entire life. I’ve visited New Hampshire many times, but Sanderling has always interested me. I didn’t want to be only a tourist anymore.”
His reasoning for coming here is similar to mine. I needed to be away from home. I needed to be somewhere completely different, where familiar scenery wouldn’t trigger memories.
“And you just stumbled into Fallon’s store?” Ryan asks, and I’d forgotten he was here for a moment.
Fitz slowly nods but never looks away from me. “I had read about her store in our local paper. It was highlighting small businesses in New Hampshire.”
I have a copy of the paper he’s referring to. Thomas was so excited when his friend told him about the insert that he nearly knocked over a shelf of books when he ran into the store, waving the paper around like a lunatic. He’d driven to Boston early that morning to snag a copy for us. I don’t have it hanging up at the store like the article about Shoreline Scribes being the business to watch, but it does have a nice, permanent location on my desk. Maybe my dreams of expanding into Boston will someday be realized.