Page 7 of More Than Pen Pals

“Okay, then,” she says conspiratorially, “Annette told me he hasn’t had a serious girlfriend since he was in college. Not law school—college. That’s at least five years ago.”

I was never great at math, but I know she’s wrong about the timing. Ash would’ve graduated the same year I did—three years ago, not five. But I can’t tell her I know that.

However, she solves the conundrum for me. “He’s extremely smart. Skipped a grade in high school and then finished college in three years.” She sighs. “I love a brainy man.” Wendy glances at her watch. “Oh! I’m about to be late for a meeting. We need to run.” She flags down a waiter and asks him to bring the check as quickly as possible. “It’s on me,” she tells me. “After all, you nearly died.”

“You don’t need to pay for my meal.”

“I do. If it makes you feel better, you can cover me next time.”

“Deal.”

When the waiter brings the check, Wendy pulls a few bills out of her wallet and sets them on the table as she stands. “Let’s go. I want to stop and say hey to the Hamilton men on the way out.”

“Let’s not,” I say, but she’s already halfway to their table.

As I approach them, I keep my head down and attempt to walk on by, but Wendy grabs my wrist and tugs me beside her.

“Randall,” she says, “Leslie and I wanted to thank you again for saving her life.”

I avoid Ash’s gaze as I focus on his brother. “Yes, thank you, Mr. Hamilton.”

“Please, it’s Randall. I did have my arms around you, so I think we’re close enough now to use each other’s first names.” He grins at me. “Speaking of names, my brother here used to know someone from Arkansas named Leslie.”

“Randall,” Ash warns as my heart stops. His deep voice sends a shiver through me.

His brother plows ahead. “I figure everybody knows everyone else in Arkansas, so maybe you know him. Les something.” His mouth twists. “What was it?” He looks at Ash, who shakes his head as I feel all the blood drain from my own.

I pull on Wendy’s hand, but she stands firm.

“Bartlett?” Randall muses. “Beckham?” His forehead wrinkles and then he points a finger into the air. “Beckett! That’s it. Beckett.”

My body sways and I pray I’ll faint so I won’t know what happens next.

No such luck.

Wendy turns to me with wide eyes. “That’syourlast name.”

Randall and the other man at the table both laugh.

“What are the odds?” the other man asks. “Is he your cousin or something?”

I can’t look at Ash. I can’t.

I have to. I need to see how he’s reacting to the bombshell Wendy dropped on him. My gaze slowly moves to my old friend. His piercing blue eyes briefly shine with recognition before turning steely.

“Surprise.” I give him a shaky smile, hoping against hope I’ll get a grin in return.

My hope is shattered when Ash’s nostrils flare, he pushes back his chair with a screech, and he stands. He shoots me one last glare and then strides swiftly across the room toward the exit.

“Ash, wait,” I feebly call out.

“Hold up,” Wendy says. “You twoknoweach other?”

Her words snap me out of my shock, and I race after Ash without acknowledging Wendy’s statement. Considering he had a head start and is about a foot taller than me, he’s out the door before I’m halfway across the restaurant. I rush out onto the sidewalk, frantically looking in each direction. His height makes it easy to spot him heading toward our offices. I run after him, ignoring the pain shooting from the balls of my feet all the way up my legs from running in heels on concrete.

“Ash!” I call out much more forcefully than before. “Ash, wait!”

As he’s apparently too dignified to run down the street, I catch up with him at the end of the next block as the light turns red, forcing us to stop at the corner. He spins away from me, but I skirt around him and place a hand on his arm as I suck in air. He jerks away from my touch and refuses to meet my eyes.

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