Page 13 of Selfie

“Fourth option—I was in a serious relationship that ended abruptly and I’m still not over it. Maybe I like the fact that you’re not so eager to jump into bed because I’m not dating right now and all I can handle is whatever this is.”

Oh, geez. I jumped to serial killer before considering that maybe he’s newly single and not trying to rebound. It’s official. No moreDateline. “So just flirting?” I ask sheepishly.

“Is this flirting? When I used to meet women in bars, flirting seemed less…accusatory.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be nice now. You know what? To make it up to you, how about I buyyoua drink?” I instantly regret my words because what if he takes me up on that, and judging by his watch, the kind of liquor he drinks probably costs my monthly rent.

“Thank you. But if you stay, I’m buying. Nonnegotiable. I won’t pressure you, though.” He moves past me and slides into the booth before looking back at me. “Your choice.”

4

Nathan

Ireally expected her to leave. But I’m glad she didn’t.

I’m only here tonight to talk to Finn Harvey. He’s in town for one more night before he whisks his new wife off to Greece for a two-week vacation. I can’t wait two weeks for an answer about the lot his grandpa owns. It’s a determining factor on too many moving pieces for Dad’s new project.

A simple call wasn’t enough. I’m asking an old friend for a favor after dropping the ball on communication for years. At the bare minimum, I meant to buy him a nice wagyu steak, but he didn’t have time for dinner. My only choice was to accept his invitation and catch him tonight before he leaves. But once I got here, I felt like an ass, crashing his wife’s birthday party just to talk business. I was stalling when I spotted Spencer by the bar.

It all started out as a dare I made with myself. Dad is only forcing new executive assistants on me because he thinks I’m lonely. Maybe if I go on a date or two, that’ll be enough to appease him and he’ll let me work in peace.

Spencer’s scouring the menu so hard you’d think she was choosing a permanent tattoo, not a drink that will disappear in ten minutes. “Nothing looks good?” I ask.

“The opposite,” she answers, not looking up. “Everything looks good and I only get one.”

She’s cute. And so accidentally sexy. But I won’t let my mind go there. I refuse to think about her rich complexion, or the beautiful contrast of her thick, dark hair fixed in loose curls, falling all over her tan shoulders. She’s far from a stick figure, and I will absolutely not allow myself to imagine how her soft curves would feel in my hands.

It’s been three years since Elise died. The first year, the topic of women was a nonissue. They didn’t exist in my world. By the end of year two, I’ll admit I felt lonely from time to time. On occasion I was tempted to bring a woman home purely for physical gratification, but the guilt always stopped me. A little guilt because I knew I only wanted a woman to keep me company for one night. And the deeper guilt because once I sleep with someone else, Elise won’t be my last. The moment I cross that line, everything changes. Everything will fall apart. I’d just rather not have sex.

“I’m happy to buy you more than one.”

“Oh yeah, hotshot?” She finally looks up with her big, brown eyes and winks at me. “Think you can afford it?”

“I’ll move some money around.”

Her chuckle is light and airy. She seems to have relaxed some. Her nervous laughter before at the bar sounded a bit like a horse whinny. “That’s generous of you. But seriously, just one drink. I have to keep my wits about me tonight.”

“Why?”

“There are lots of extremely handsome men here with indecent intentions.” She waggles her eyebrows.

“Hey, I thought I was off trial.”

“Sorry.” She covers her eyes as she shakes her head. “That one slipped right out. I’m just teasing. This is nice, actually. I needed a break from my table. Plus we’re so close to the stage”—she lowers her voice—“we can almost see the sweat on the performers.”

“If you’re calling this awful karaoke a performance, then forget the drinks.” I grab the menu and slide it away from her. “You’re belligerent and you need to be cut off.”

“Ha! Be nice. They are trying. Some of them are…decent.”

Clearly she’s the kind of woman who likes to put a positive spin on things. “Are you going to get up there?”

“Oh yes.” The look on her face is dead serious. “I’m the final act at closing. How else do you think they’re going to clear out this party in a hurry?”

“Your singing is that bad?”

“Impressively abysmal.”

I can’t remember the last time I laughed this much. Definitely feels like a different lifetime. “Hey, can you scoot closer?”

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