Chapter 9
Nia
“Want to grab lunch?” Mars asked over the phone while I finished wiping down the equipment after training for the day.
“Yes,” I answered immediately, the tension in my shoulders finally beginning to dissipate. “I’m starving. Where do you wanna meet?”
“I’m over near Westheimer and Kirby right now.”
“Okay.”
“Let’s do Fitz.”
“Say less,” I laughed, already craving a break from the clinic.
After hanging up, I made my way toward the private locker room, needing to freshen up before heading back out into the thick Houston heat.
I showered quickly, washing the gym air off my skin before moisturizing until I was glowing. Then I changed into low-rise jeans, a fitted tube tank, and a pair of Prada sandals.
Simple.
Cute.
Comfortable.
I added some light makeup, glossed my lips to perfection, fluffed my curls, grabbed my designer bag, and headed out the door.
By the time I pulled up to Fitz, the afternoon sun was glowing hard against the downtown skyline, reflecting brilliantly off the glass high-rises.
I felt good.
The valet opened my door with a polite nod while I slid my oversized sunglasses onto the bridge of my nose, stepping out onto the sun-warmed pavement.
I instantly spotted Mars standing near the curated landscaping by the curb, looking effortlessly chic while waiting for me.
“Hi, sunshine,” I smiled, stepping into her space and kissing both of her cheeks in our usual greeting.
“You are rocking those low-risers, girl,” Mars laughed, smacking my butt playfully as I smoothed down my tube tank.
I burst out laughing immediately, the lingering stress of the morning completely evaporating.
“You are so silly. Did you get us a table?”
“Yep. Patio seating, if that’s cool with you.”
“That’s perfect. I need a good tan anyway.”
We made our way through the beautifully designed restaurant toward the outdoor oasis.
The warm, humid Texas breeze brushed softly against my skin while ambient lounge music played low overhead, competing with the pleasant chatter of the upscale lunch crowd.
The patio was completely packed with corporate executives cutting deals, local influencers subtly angling for the best lighting, professional athletes laying low, and wealthy women dressed like they had nowhere important to be except outside looking pretty.
A waiter dressed in a crisp uniform approached our table almost immediately, setting down sweating glasses of cucumber water.
“What are we drinking today, ladies?”
Mars cut her eyes over to me first, a knowing glint in her gaze.
“Margaritas?”
“Obviously,” I replied without a second thought.
We ordered a round of spicy watermelon margaritas with Tajín rims, alongside a basket of truffle parmesan fries to share for the table.
When the waiter took our main course selections, Mars went with the pan-seared grilled salmon drizzled with lemon butter, served alongside asparagus, while I opted for the blackened shrimp tacos loaded with street corn, cotija cheese, and a drizzle of rich avocado crema.
The second the waiter walked away, Mars leaned forward immediately, resting her elbows on the dark wood table.
“Okay, now spill.”
I laughed, already knowing exactly what she meant.
“About what?”
“David Scott the Third,” she said dramatically, enunciating every single word like a headline. “Old money Wall Street. The man sending pristine arrangements to your office.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling despite myself.
“You are so annoying.”
“And nosy. Now talk.”
So I did.
I told her about us talking all night, the FaceTime call, the flowers, and the way he somehow made conversation feel completely easy instead of performative.
“He listens,” I admitted, picking up the black straw and stirring my drink slowly as the ice clinked against the glass. “Like, actually listens.”
Mars smiled immediately, her eyes lighting up.
“You like him.”
“I barely know him, Mars.”
“Nia.”
I sighed dramatically before taking another long sip of my margarita, the kick of the jalape?o hitting the back of my throat.
“Okay, maybe I’m interested.”
“That’s huge for you.”
“It’s not huge.”
“It absolutely is,” she laughed, reaching over to pop a truffle fry into her mouth. “You usually get bored after fifteen minutes.”
“That is not true.”
“Nia, when was the last time you really liked a guy? I mean, really liked a guy?”
I pondered the question for a moment, staring down at the Tajín rim.
It had been years.
But I had my career to focus on, and I simply didn't need the distraction.
I think that's why Cal and I worked so well up until lately.
Our arrangement was safe.
No pressure.
No titles.
Just two people who knew each other inside and out, stepping in and out of each other's spaces whenever we needed an escape.
Our food arrived a few minutes later, saving me from having to dive deeper into that thought.
For a while, the conversation shifted naturally toward her wedding planning, my crazy workload, and the absolute circus surrounding J5’s comeback game next week.
Mars kept stealing my fries while pretending her perfectly seared salmon wasn’t sitting directly in front of her.
“You ordered an entire meal,” I reminded her, swatting her hand away with a laugh.
“And your fries still taste better.”
I shook my head, laughing as I leaned back in my chair.
My gaze drifted absentmindedly across the sun-drenched street, taking in the bustling midday traffic and the rows of upscale boutiques.
Then my stomach dropped slightly.
Cal.
He was sitting outside on the patio of another restaurant maybe fifty feet away.
And he was with a woman.
A very attractive woman.
I blinked slowly trying to ignore the weird feeling twisting quietly in my chest because this wasn’t new. Cal entertained women all the time. Normally I wouldn’t care at all. So why was I suddenly watching this woman laugh too hard while touching his arm every five seconds?
I flinched slightly when she leaned even closer toward him.
Mars caught it immediately.
Her eyes followed mine across the street before she cleared her throat softly, the clink of her fork against the plate drawing me back.
“You okay there, Nia?”
I looked down, realizing I'd been clenching my jaw slightly, the muscles tight and rigid.
Embarrassing.
“I’m fine,” I insisted, forcing my face to relax.
Mars studied me carefully for a second, her sharp gaze reading right through my defenses before she leaned back in her chair.
“You sure you don’t have deeper feelings for Cal than you think?”
I scoffed immediately, the sound entirely defensive.
“Please.”
“I’m serious, Nia.”
“Come on,” I laughed, brushing her off with a wave of my hand. “It’s Cal. There’s no way.”
Mars still looked completely unconvinced, her silence speaking volumes.
Me?
I suddenly wasn’t as sure as I normally was.
The absolute certainty I usually carried whenever it came to our boundaries felt incredibly fragile all of a sudden.
And that irritated me.
I grabbed another fry, quickly deciding to change the subject before she kept digging into a wound I wasn't ready to examine.
“So, what should I wear Friday?” I asked casually. “I need something sexy but effortless.”
That immediately distracted her, her inner stylist waking up instantly.
“Oh, now this we can discuss.”
I laughed softly while she launched into full styling mode, her eyes lighting up with creative focus.
“No bright colors,” she started dramatically, gesturing with her hands. “You need rich girl elegance.”
“I hate you.”
“No, seriously,” she laughed, leaning forward. “Like a fitted black dress, gold jewelry, heels, and soft curls."
“You sound like you’re dressing me for billionaire auditions.”
“Aren’t you?”
I burst out laughing, the sound drawing a few amused glances from the tables around us.
“You are crazy."
“Am I wrong, though?”
Unfortunately, she wasn't.
By the time we finished eating and paid the bill, we'd somehow convinced ourselves that a shopping trip was absolutely, immediately necessary.
We made our way out to the front of the restaurant and stood near the valet station waiting for our cars.
The warm Houston breeze drifted softly through my curls while the afternoon sun radiated off the concrete, wrapping the city in that familiar summer hazeMars slipped her sunglasses back on while scrolling through a few boutiques on her phone.
“I’m thinking Neiman's first,” she said.
“Then maybe Dior if we don't find anything.”
“You're spending my money awfully confidently.”
“Someone has to.”
I laughed, shaking my head as I adjusted the strap of my designer bag on my shoulder.
That's when I noticed movement across the street again.
Cal and the woman were standing up from their table too.
My eyes found him without meaning to.
The second his gaze swept across the traffic and landed directly on me...
He froze.
Actually froze.
His entire body seemed to lock in place for the briefest moment, like he'd forgotten where he was.
The woman beside him said something, but he barely seemed to hear her.
His attention never left me.
It was like he'd seen a ghost standing on the sidewalk instead of me and Mars.
For a second, neither one of us looked away.
The distance between the two restaurants seemed to disappear beneath the steady weight of his stare.
Then his eyes shifted briefly to Mars before finding me again.
He leaned down, said something quickly to the woman beside him, offered an apologetic smile, and without another thought, stepped off the curb.
Cars rolled past between us as he crossed the busy street with the same quiet confidence he carried everywhere else.
My pulse did something stupid the closer he got, and I hated that my body noticed before my brain did.
“What is he doing?” I muttered under my breath.
Mars glanced at me sideways, the corners of her mouth fighting a smile.
“I think he's coming over here.”
“I can see that.”
“Well... somebody definitely forgot he was on a lunch date.”
I shot her a look, but before I could respond, Cal was already stepping onto the sidewalk in front of us.