Page 17 of The Confidentiality Clause
“Maybe I’m doomed to be alone forever. If I weren’t allergic to cats, I’d say I could become a cat lady.”
“You’re not going to be alone forever, Ari. If I found a husband to put up with all of my crazy, you will too.”
“Your husband was in love with you for like a decade before you got together. I don’t think I’ll be so lucky.”
“You never know! There could be a secret admirer pining after you right this second.”
“I’d hope he’d see I’m single and have some courage to ask me out.”
“It took Shaw a while.” She shoots a playful grin to the side. I’m sure Shaw is nearby. I don’t mind him listening in. He’s a good guy, and it’s not like my abysmal dating life is much of a secret.
“I had to get you to stop hating me before I could ask you to marry me,” Shaw says off camera.
“If you would have just told me your feelings from the start instead of beating up all my ex-boyfriends…” Sutton trails off. I laugh.
“You’re an intimidating woman, Love. You can’t blame me for being a nervous teenager.”
She blushes at his compliment. I smile even though a twinge of pain shoots through my chest. Sutton didn’t even want a relationship when she fell for Shaw. Meanwhile, I’m looking under every rock to find love and coming up short.
“Do you think guys would be intimidated by Ariel, too?” Sutton asks.
“You don’t have to ask him–” I cut off when Shaw starts to answer.
“Definitely. She’s a successful, confident business woman. Most guys these days are too insecure to stand next to someone like Ariel.”
My chest warms. “Thanks, Shaw.”
It doesn’t help my predicament, but it does make me feel better about myself. He could just be saying that because I’m Sutton’s best friend, but I’m choosing to believe he means it.
“He’s right,” Sutton says with an affirming nod. “You’reincredible. Don’t think that because these dates with boys haven’t worked out that you won’t find the man who will love you the way you deserve.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes. “Thanks, S. I’ll try to keep that in mind.”
“Good. Now, can you help me pick out a dress for the event I have next week? I can’t decide.”
A smile blooms on my face. I know she’s trying to cheer me up, but that doesn’t mean it’s not going to work. I love putting together outfits, especially for events. I don’t think I’ll be finding my soulmate anytime soon, but at least I have a best friend who’s always here for me.
Chapter nine
Brock Jones
I scrub my hands over my bleary eyes before reaching for my coffee. My hand knocks into the half-full paper cup, tipping it over. I wince and jump up to find something to clean it with. Dark brown liquid seeps into the last contract I was reviewing. All of the notes I made start to blur.
“Great.”
I stalk out of my office to hunt for paper towels. The bathrooms here only have hand dryers, but maybe there’s a utility closet with some inside.
“Don’t tell me you’re leaving when I just got here.” Ariel’s voice carries across the floor.
She struts down the line of empty cubicles. My eyes trail from her heels clicking on the dark wood floors up her legs to the fitted tweed dress that hugs her curves. If you transported her to a runway in New York, she’d fit right in, even with the reusable tote bag slung over her shoulder.
“Isn’t that your whole thing?” I raise a brow. “To get me to stop working?”
“I’m not so naïve to think you leaving this building means you stop working,” she says with a wry smile. Her eyes rove over me. “You look like you got hit by a truck.”
I let out a short laugh. “Way to make a guy feel good.” I gesture to her bag. “Happen to have paper towels in there?”
Her brows scrunch together. “No, what do you need those for?”
