Chapter Seven #2
“Could you get me some more water?” He inserted a small bite into his tone and waited until his water came before excusing himself to the bathroom.
On his way back, he made a pit stop at the counter. Looking back at the table, he frowned at the attractive guy engrossed in conversation with Sophie.
A punch rocked through his gut, unfounded worries coating his mind, and his heart plummeted as she laughed.
Hang on…
Her facial expressions and body language suggested she knew him well. Another woman joined them and James cracked a smile.
His heart squeezed as they left the table. Why were her friends acting like this was a date when he could never get that far with Sophie?
As he walked back to the table, the obvious solution crossed his mind: fire Covey and everything would be okay. He and Sophie could date without any obstacles.
But … Covey was good, based on what he heard and read. It would do more harm than good to eliminate them.
He slid back into the booth. “Hey, sorry. How’s your food?”
“Good,” she said. “What about you? I know it’s a far cry from what you’re probably used to, but…”
“I like it,” he said. These were some of the best noodles he tasted, and he had soba at Tsuta.
A smile danced in her eyes, spreading across her lips. Glancing down, she slid a fatty piece of char siu into her mouth and rooted around in the noodles.
“Dammit,” she muttered. “They never give enough.”
“Here.” He put the piece of pork floating in his own bowl into hers. Maybe it was the lighting, but he swore her cheeks were rosier.
“Thanks.”
Conversation flowed easily once more between them, and it was like they’d been friends for years. There wasn’t a chance for an awkward silence to develop.
Birthdays were revealed, fears and favorites exchanged, and before he knew it, the server took their empty dishes away.
For the first time, a strained deafness fell.
She cleared her throat and drummed her fingers on the table. “So, um … how do you want to split the bill?”
Tension coiled in his chest. Friends would’ve split it, but …
He squared his shoulders and looked her dead in the eye. “I took care of it.”
“What? Why?” She frowned. “The owner also owns the entire building, so I get a discount.”
A smile played on his lips. “When you’re with me, you don’t pay.”
“Friends don’t do that.”
She was right, but he couldn’t help the puff of laughter that blew from his lips. “Friends don’t typically see each other naked, either, sweetheart.”
She snorted. “Did you just call me sweetheart?”
“Are we going to pretend you didn’t like it?’
A rueful smile touched her lips. “Touché. But I refuse to believe you, Philip, and Luc haven’t seen each other naked.”
“We haven’t.”
“Luc told me about Cabo.”
“Luc is a goddamn liar,” James drawled, though he was sure even astronauts in space detected the nervous twinge to his words. “Believe nothing he says.”
Her rich, tinkling laughter filled the air, and, God dammit, if it was possible to be addicted to a sound, this was it.
“Okay, well, thanks. I need to stop by the bathroom again,” she said.
His phone buzzed incessantly, and he pulled it out, looking at the screen. The call came from an unknown number, but something in his gut told him to answer anyway. “Hello?”
“JAMES, HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOLLAAAA!”
He winced away from the receiver as the voice wailed into the phone. “Lina? Whose phone is this?”
She laughed merrily and continued in Spanish, “The phone is my friend’s. Ay, guess what? I’m in Boston, carino!”
“What?!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. Part of him wanted to call Philip and tell him that his sister was across the world on a random Monday. But … if James were in her shoes, the last thing she’d want was her big brother stepping in.
He expelled a long breath from his nose. A solution lay at the forefront of his mind, but he’d rather eat glass.
Then again, if he didn’t want to leave Lina hanging, what choice did he have? “Lina—”
“Everything’s fine, carino!”
“Like hell everything’s fine,” he snapped. “You know you’re slurring your words, right?”
“Well, you don’t need to be mean about it.” She sniffed. “You know what? I don’t need this. I should’ve known I’d get the same reaction from you as my brother. I’m going to hang up now, by--”
“Wait, I’m sorry,” James cut in. “Where are you right now?”
“This restaurant in the Seaport, I think,” Lina said after a moment. “Nicole says it’s really good, don’t you, querida?”
He rustled up all the Nicoles he knew in the area and relief flooded him after a moment.
“Wait, Nicole Amato?” he asked. “Are you there with Nicole Amato?”
If Lina said yes, he could use the information to his advantage.
Nicole Amato started Amato Cosmetics at twenty-six and, within five years, had achieved the title of self-made millionaire. She always traveled with at least one security guard.
“Sí.”
His heart leapt. “Give the phone to Nicole.”
“Ella está en el bano.” Lina giggled. “She's been in there for a while.”
He sighed as his patience began to wear thin. “Alright, can you tell me where you are?”
“I told you.”
“No, the name.”
“Ohhhhh,” she dragged out before giving the name of the restaurant.
“Okay, stay there,” he said. “I’m going to se—”
A shriek of laughter and a beeping whizzed across his hearing, and he looked at his phone.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“Everything okay?” Sophie peered down with wide eyes.
Holy—When did she get back?! James sighed, steeling himself. “Yeah, just one second. Excuse me for a second, I need to make a call.”
Exiting the booth, he headed for a semi-quiet corner. He pulled up his brother’s contact information and pressed the call option.
He typically avoided contacting Adam at all costs, but James loved Lina as if she were his sister.
“Hello?” Adam answered.
“Hi,” James said. “You remember Lina, right? Well, she’s drunk, and I can’t be there. So I don’t need you to be an asshole about this, and—”
“Wha—slow down. Hang on.”
He scowled as the background noise on Adam’s end muffled. James tapped his foot, scanning the restaurant as he waited.
Sophie talked to the same man and woman again and she briefly met his gaze before tearing her attention away.
“Alright, what’s going on?” Adam asked, the sound on his end rushing back.
“You remember Philip has a younger sister, right?”
“Sure.”
James sighed and muttered a swear. “Okay, well, tell me you at least remember her name.”
“Of course. … Emily.”
“Catalina,” he snapped. “I swear to God, I—no, I’m not doing this today. The gist is that she’s in America and drunk. I’m worried she’ll hurt herself, and I’m not in a spot where I can go help her, so…”
“You need me to save your ass?” Adam asked. “Well, I have to admit, I’m flattered.”
James rolled his eyes. Leave it to his brother to sound cocky about something like this.
Honestly, is his therapist helping him?
“Can you not be an ass right now? She’s at Aqua, that new bar in the Seaport with Nicole Amato.”
“Catalina’s an adult.” Boredom suffused Adam’s tone. “I’m sure she’ll be just fine.”
“Adam, just do it,” James ordered.
Adam hummed. “While I have you, I need you to do something for me. There might be some videos of me tonight at Oak and Ivy. If anything pops up anywhere, I need you to get them taken down. Now is not a good time for me to be in the news in a negative way.”
“Right, because your Daddy’s favorite.”
“Do me a favor and never say that again."
“The truth hurts, doesn’t it?”
“Fuck off.”
“Why can’t you do this yourself?” James asked. “I know you have resources.”
Every good businessperson did.
“Yes,” Adam said. “But yours are faster.”
“Fine," James said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll take it as payment for this.”
“Wait, what? I didn’t agr—”
He ended the call and slipped his cell back in his pocket, heading back for the booth.
Sophie tilted her head. “Are you sure everything’s okay? You look upset.”
He nodded, tugging at his neck. “It’s Lina. She’s in Boston and hit the bottle a little too hard tonight.”
“Lina is Philip’s sister, right? Is she going to be okay?” Sophie rose.
“Yeah, I have my brother on it.”
I really hope that was a good idea.
James didn’t know why Lina suddenly decided to take a trip to America, but he’d bet good money the last thing she needed was Adam being a dick.
“Oh, right, I forgot he lives there.”
James paused. “How do you know where my brother lives?”
“Wikipedia.”
James grinned and shook his head as he held open the door for her, a gust of smoky air rustling past.
“Thanks for dinner,” she said. “I … guess I’ll see you tomorrow at Joseph’s?”
He resisted the urge to purse his lips. She didn’t think the night was over, did she? He certainly didn’t want it to be.
“Actually, I was wondering if you wanted to get dessert,” he said.
Pushing open the door to her building, she flicked a switch on the wall and soft, golden light drowned them.
“Oh, um … sure. Let me drop something off and then we can go. Where were you thinking? Oh! Have you been to Little Cupcake Bakeshop? It’s a little bit of a hike, but if you’re up for amazing—”
“Mmm, I was thinking somewhere closer.” His gaze flicked upward.
She followed his gaze toward the stairs, and a delicate, pink blush settled across her cheeks. “I see.”
He stepped towards her.
She had resprayed the perfume she usually wore, and the scent was even more addictive. Vanilla and coconut blended seamlessly, winding their way around him.
He caged her in between his arms, pressing his body against hers.
“Do you know what those jeans have been doing to me, sweetheart?” he murmured, his lips skimming down her jaw and neck.
She shuddered, and he groaned as she pressed a hand against the bulge between his legs.
“Hopefully, what I wanted them to,” she said. “Also, stop calling me ‘sweetheart.’”
His hand inched down to her ass. “Alright, then what do you want me to call you?” His lips spread into a smile. “Dumpling? Muffin? Cookie?”
“Why are they all foods?” She leaned forward, pausing an inch from his lips. “We’ll workshop it.”
He sat on her bed and slung his shirt back on, fishing his tie from where he’d flung it after undoing it from Sophie’s wrists.
“How are you going to get home?” she asked.
“Subway,” he replied.
She crossed her arms and frowned. “What do you mean the subway? You wouldn’t let me take the subway at one a.m.”
“Fine. Then I’ll take a taxi.”
“Again, you wouldn’t let me take a taxi or ride-share.” She leaned against the wall in the living room. “You know, if we really wanted to make this a full-circle moment, you could sleep on the couch.”
Snorting, he pulled up the number of the private car service on his phone. “Nope.”
Whatever happened, things couldn’t end with him staying the night. That was too much. If he wound up sleeping on the couch, he would explode.
“I know, I was joking,” she clarified.
But the hesitancy in her words boomed.
He spun to face her. “I’ll call a private car and wait downstairs for it.”
She nodded, eyes tracking across his features like she attempted to memorize him.
“Then get home safe,” she murmured.
For a moment, he wished that despite his protests, she would reach out for him anyway. But that wasn’t going to happen.
She was someone who had their priorities straight. She wouldn’t let a leak sink the whole damn ship, and it was time he took a page from her book.
James’s grip tightened around the second coffee cup as he leaned against the wall outside Joseph’s.
Philip stood next to him, arms crossed.
“You didn’t tell me who that coffee is for,” his friend said. “Unless it's for you, too? Are you really tired?”
James didn’t deign to answer.
In the silence that followed, Philip’s gaze lingered on him. “Mierda. Do you have her coffee order memorized? Ay, cabrón, you’re in too deep.”
James knew all too well that he and Sophie couldn’t be anything substantial. They were resigned to strings of meaningless sex. Anything more could only happen if they wanted to lose everything and more in the future.
And maybe it was too much but … if he could save her at least ten minutes in the morning, he would.
“Good morning,” Philip called.
Sophie jogged up the sidewalk, and a small smile graced James’s lips.
He left her that morning with her hair a mess, her lips swollen, and her legs wobbly. But now, she looked remarkably well put together for someone who had only gotten five hours of sleep.
He held out the second coffee to her and she blinked.
“It’s iced.” Her fingers closed around the cup. “Um … thanks. But you’re not giving me your breakfast again, are you?”
Snorting, he resisted the urge to touch her. “Only if you want it. Just got your coffee for you. You don’t like hot coffee, do you, darling?”
Since he started going to Joseph’s, she always ordered an iced coffee. The last time he bought her coffee, he forgot to ask for it iced, and he hadn’t missed the flicker of disappointment in her expression.
He wouldn't be the cause of that again.
“‘Darling?’” Philip asked. “Cabrón, you’ve known her for a little over a week.”
“He’s trying to find a nickname for me,” Sophie explained. “But you’re right. A nickname after little over a week is too soon.”
“Yeah, true.” James shrugged. “I can go back to just your name.”
“It’s fine,” she said after a moment. Her eyes twinkled with sparks of thanks and … something else. “But we’re not going with ‘darling.’”