Chapter 103
I ’m hoping he can make time to meet up with Kelsey, but I’m still waiting for confirmation that he can join us. Adam needs to get to know my best friend—the one who insisted I go back to the cottage and have my way with him. She deserves a thank you for everything that’s unfolded.
When Allison told me that doing deals was no joke, I didn’t understand what she meant at the time. Now I do. It’s insane. I miss Adam so much, and I feel like the last time we were truly ourselves was my birthday—nearly two months ago.
The doorman calls me, and I tell him to let in the hottie. He laughs, and I eagerly wait by the door for her.
“Kelsey!” I scream, hugging her.
“This building is incredible! I don’t even want to know how much the rent is,” she says as she steps into my apartment.
“Yes, you do.” I smile knowingly.
“You’re right.” She laughs.
“Take a deep breath.” Kelsey nods, and I guide her through the living room. “Fifty-two hundred a month. Two bedrooms, two bathrooms, great kitchen and living room. Plus, an entire amenity floor.”
“Must be nice. So, when do I get to meet the billionaire?”
I show her into my office, which has a trundle bed. “It’s not looking good,” I say as she begins unpacking. “He’s working on closing this three-hundred-million-dollar deal. I haven’t even seen him this week.”
I don’t like making excuses for him, but it is what it is right now.
“Casual.”
“It sucks if I’m being honest,” I confide. “I know this period won’t last forever, but that doesn’t make it any easier. His day-to-day life in the city is so different from our routine at the lake.”
“I still can’t believe it—you and ‘The Renter.’”
I pour us each a glass of wine, and we settle on the couch.
“Velvet,” she says, petting the fabric.
“I know. I love it!”
“This is all crazy,” Kelsey says, looking around my place.
“It’s weird, I know. Hey, I’ve been meaning to ask you.” She sips her wine, a familiar questioning look on her face. I smile, happy to be with my best friend. “Don’t you think it’s kind of bullshit how Sam is making me feel?”
“What do you mean?”
“She got a brand-new car on her sixteenth birthday. Her parents paid for her college. She chose to be a teacher, and she chose to get engaged to another teacher—like she chose to be poor.” Kelsey giggles before taking a sip of her wine.
“I know it sounds harsh, but why is she being so hard on me when I’ve been grinding with no handouts and happened to end up with a rich man? ”
“No handouts?” Kelsey raises an eyebrow.
Declan. I haven’t thought about him in a while. “You know what I mean!” I say, sipping my wine and considering that the only people who know about the money Declan gave me are Kelsey, Adam, and obviously Declan.
“I’m happy to have no man drama right now,” Kelsey says, taking another sip.
“Okay, Ms. Politician.” I laugh, understanding why she’s avoiding commenting on either of our situations. “I know I’m weighing privilege here, but I’ll take mine over hers any day.”
It’s the truth. I do not want Sam’s life. I’ll take an MIA boyfriend over financial insecurity any day.
“You know, Ben likes you,” I say, shifting the topic. “Maybe you should reconsider that no-man-drama rule.”
“Why do you keep saying he likes me?”
“Ben literally asked me if you were single when I was boating with Adam this summer. When you see him, you can ask him. He witnessed it!”
“Well, shit timing. I’m accepting this job offer in Madison.”
“Oh? What’s the job?”
“It’s sort of like cybersecurity consulting, focusing on financial data.”
“That sounds cool!”
“I’m excited about it. How’s your PR stuff going?”
“Growing so fast! I have some interesting clients, and I’m starting to love commercial real estate. I’m learning so much about it with one of my clients.”
“So, are you profitable?”
“Very. Adam’s helped me so much with everything. I invoiced twenty thousand dollars last month.”
“Shit! That’s great!”
Kelsey and I continue to catch up on the couch, talking for hours. When she goes to the bathroom, I text Adam.
Dani Sommer
Please, can you find thirty minutes to meet up with us today?
The text goes unanswered, and we make our way to a martini bar to see where the night takes us. Three hours later, his name lights up my phone. I step outside the restaurant we’re at and answer.
“Hey, we’re in the West Loop right now. Come by.”
“Peanut.” His tone tells me everything. He won’t be able to meet up. “Monday night, I promise,” he says. “We should be so close to the finish line by then.”
My gut reaction is to scream and demand he come out. But I channel my maturity. “Monday night. It better be nice!”