Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Maren
I tell myself that pizza with my boss is no big deal.
I ate a meal with Royce Knott once. Technically, I ate, and he talked. That business dinner started with him drinking two glasses of vodka as if they were ice-cold water on a sweltering summer afternoon.
As I picked at the crab cake I ordered, he talked about the woman who broke his heart. It was a brief glimpse behind the facade of the man I worked for.
The next day, I attempted to offer words of comfort, but he laughed it off, telling me that alcohol made him delusional.
We never spoke about it again, and that meal was the only time I saw him outside of office hours.
Keats is different. His personal life is forever cataloged in search results online.
“What kind of pizza do you like?” Keats asks the innocent question as we walk side-by-side toward a restaurant that Arietta recommended.
I tried to change my clothes into something more business-like, but Arietta bounced around in front of me, blocking me from going down the hallway to my bedroom. Dudley got in on the action, jumping up on her legs, causing her to giggle uncontrollably.
I was the one who fell on my ass when I kicked off my sneakers as I was putting on a pair of nude heels I had left in the foyer.
It was the light moment I needed to chase my anxiety away. By the time I got back down to the lobby where Keats was waiting for me, I felt more relaxed than I had when I spotted him on my way home from seeing Donovan.
“We should order a number fourteen,” I say with a smile.
Keats glances at me as we pass a couple holding hands. “I’m in. You’re the expert since I’ve never been to this place.”
I haven’t either, but Arietta has. She’s told me to order the number fourteen just as I was getting on the elevator. I asked what was on it, but she told me to trust her. I do.
“I’ve never been either.” I wave a hand to wave at one of my neighbors as he steps out of a barbershop with his cell phone next to his ear.
Keats waves at him too. “What do you mean you’ve never been?”
I gesture toward the right with a jerk of my thumb to signal that we’ll be rounding the corner soon. “My roommate said this is the best pizza in Tribeca.”
“You’re putting a lot of trust in her or…him.”
I hear the question woven into the statement. Keats is curious about who I live with. He must know that I’m not involved with my roommate. When we were at Nova, I let it slip that I don’t have a boyfriend.
“Arietta is her name.” I glance at him. “She’s very trustworthy.”
A grin perks the corners of his lips. “We all need someone like that in our lives.”
I’m curious who that person is to him. Is it his brother? Maybe a close friend? Could it be his dad?
“How long have you known Arietta?” he pronounces her name carefully.
I keep in step beside him. “A year. I think she loves Dudley more than I do.”
He lets out a laugh. “She’s running even with Stevie then. She adores that dog. She’s looking to see him soon.”
That doesn’t surprise me. Donovan is always telling me how many kids come into the vet clinic with their parents when the family pet is having a check-up.
Animals can enrich a child’s life. My dog, Bailey, did that for me.
She was there to greet me whenever I got home from school, and she curled up next to me on my bed at night.
I cried for weeks when she died. I was twelve. My mom promised she’d get me a new pup, but I didn’t want one. Bailey’s place in my heart belonged just to her back then.
“Maybe we can set something up soon,” he continues. “We can do it at my place. You can bring Dudley over, and we’ll have dinner. You, me, Berk and Stevie.”
“You’re allergic,” I point out, still unsure if meeting his family is the right move.
“I can manage a few hours with the furry monster.” He laughs. “I’ll pop an allergy pill or two.”
I point as we near Frinzi’s Pizza. “There’s the place.”
“So far, it looks like a good choice.” Keats smirks. “People are waiting to get in.”
I spot a familiar face in the line. Panic rushes through me. I admitted to Bianca that I like my boss. In less than two minutes, I’m going to be standing three feet away from her.
I steady myself with a deep breath. Bianca won’t say anything. She’s one of only a handful of people who knows my deepest secret.
As we get closer, I study her profile.
Bianca is beautiful. She’s shorter than me. Her body is curvier. Her brown hair reaches past her shoulder. Her blue eyes are as bright as the sky on a sunny afternoon.
Today, she’s wearing a black skirt and a light blue blouse. The black heels on her feet are higher than mine.
Just as we near her, she glances in our direction.
Her face lights up instantly.
“Maren!” she says my name with enough excitement to turn the head of everyone in the line. “It’s you.”
I rush to her, drawing my arms around her. “It’s so good to see you.”
As her hand pats the middle of my back, she lowers her voice to barely more than a whisper. “How are you?”
“Good,” I reassure her. “I’m really good.”
Still holding tightly to me, she whispers, “Are you on a date with your fake boyfriend?”
That sets me back a step. With a slight shake of my head, I smile. “It’s a working dinner.”
She jerks a thumb over her shoulder toward a man in jeans and a white button-down shirt. “It’s a blind date for me. Kieran is his name.”
I raise a hand to wave to the bearded blond-haired man.
“Hello.” Keats moves to stand next to us. “I’m Keats Morgan. You must be someone important to Maren.”
Offering her hand to him, Bianca tilts her head. “I’m Bianca. Maren is important to me too. Very important.”
Keats smiles. He understands the message woven into her words. Bianca is as protective of me as I am of her.
He takes her hand and shakes it. “I’m her boss.”
Bianca’s blind date wanders over. “Hey, all. I’m Kieran Ratchford. Should we get a table for four?”
Bianca shoots him a look. “No.”
Kieran’s brow furrows. “Why not?”
I know the answer to that. Bianca wants me to have time alone with my boss. I see that in the way she’s smiling at me.
“I changed my mind. I’m craving sushi,” she says as she gazes up at Kieran. “That works for you, right?”
He grins, and with a wink, answers without an ounce of hesitation. “Whatever you want.”