Page 55 of Conflict
TIME HASflown by since Ariana left Ben at the altar, got into a car accident, met the man of her dreams (her words, often), and decided to give up her life in Atlanta in favor of moving to Belle Mead, Tennessee to start anew. While my sister’s living her whirlwind romance with her mystery man, things with the Filiatrault merger are beginning to move forward. Inch by slow freaking inch. Or it starts to feel that way, but then Mr. Filiatrault makes some new demand that has the entire team scrambling. It doesn’t matter though. It’s invigorating to be a part of the team, especially with Bryan to help guide me.
He and I have fallen into a great rhythm, both at work and at home. He’s a fantastic roommate, and he makes the commute fun. He hasn’t said anything about Corinna, and I haven’t asked. It’s not my place, especially when I have my own issues to work through. So we spend our time working, playing a lot of pool at the place around the corner from my apartment, and running our problems away.
It’s true. Before Bryan moved in, my cardio consisted of the occasional spin class, but from the first time he told me that running helped him forget what he didn’t have, I was sold.
I’m not saying it’s fun. I’d be lying, but I’ve never felt or slept better in my life. Now, I look forward to our early morning runs, more than I usually look forward to coffee.
Today, there’s even more of a pep in my step. Ariana’s finally coming back to the city after having been away for two months. Which means it’s also been the same amount of time since I’ve seen Shane.
It’s been nothing but random notes and gifts in the weeks since we saw each other across the room at Ollie’s wine bar. Not a single phone call, personal appearance, or even a request for a date. If it weren’t for the occasional flower or candy-gram, I’d think he’d given up on me.
I kind of hate him right now, but only because his distance is making me want him all that much more. Before it was ‘out of sight, out of mind.’ Now? He’s dangling on the edge and it’s killing me not to reach out and pull him in close.
I push all thought aside and force myself to put on a happy face for my sister. I’m going to meet her man, Branson, for the first time. I’m equal parts hesitant and excited. I want this guy to be the real deal. I’m giddy at the thought of Ariana enjoying a romance to rival the most epic love story. Yet I know my sister, and her picker hasn’t always been her friend. Still, from the Skype chats I’ve had with Branson, he seems great, if you like the sexy, silent, dark brooding type.
And, well, I do.
Ariana warned me that this dinner is going to be a foursome. One of Branson’s groomsmen lives in the city, and they want us to meet.Nota double date, she promised. Just four people having dinner. Whatever that means.
Knowing that men who look like Branson often run in packs, I take my time getting ready for the evening. I’m dressed in a black-and-pink floral wrap dress that makes my boobs look stellar. They’re not on full display; the hint of cleavage is just enough to leave something to the imagination and make it soar to astronomical heights (probably wishful thinking, but hey, can’t blame a girl for trying). It hits me just below my knees. My favorite nude pumps round out the look. I planned on leaving my hair down, but when I see how the cut in the back of my dress shows off ample skin, I sweep it up into a casual braided updo.
Glancing in the mirror, I decide I’m looking classy yet fun. Sexy and still simple.
For whatever reason, nerves hit me as I walk into the hotel lobby, anxious to see my sister. I don’t think we’ve ever gone two months without seeing each other, and this impending separation is going to blow.
I’m commiserating over the fact that I’m losing my sister to Tennessee, but then the chime of the elevator gets my attention. And there’s my sister, walking off the elevator, looking like a million bucks. Or a woman who’s been thoroughly fucked. Holy hell, a fake engagement suits her.
Her smile is radiant, and the way she leans into the man beside her nearly has me sighing. Without even meeting the guy, he’s already got my stamp of approval.
Because if her expression is any indication, Ari’s already fallen head-over-heels in love with him. And his matches.
I sigh for real this time.
And then I squeal, waving like a maniac, trying to get their attention. It works. She tears herself away from the beefcake at her side and rushes down the hall, throwing her arms around me. When she pulls back, my nose burns as unwanted tears threaten behind my eyes. God, I’ve never seen her this happy.
“Ari, I’m so glad you’re here! I’ve missed you, but it seems the time away has been more than good for you.” Someone’s approaching, and I glance behind her to see Branson joining us. Then I grin back at her. “And I can see why.”
Ari echoes my laughter and loops her arm through her man’s. “Branson, I know you’ve ‘met’ on Skype, but this is my sister. Alyssa, this is Branson.”
I’m ready to throw my arms around him, but he holds his hand out in greeting. Not a hugger. Noted. So we shake, and I eye him. “In the flesh.”
“Back off!” she teases. “Where’s your own Wellington?”
I frown at her words, wondering what the hell she knows. Before I can respond, however, I feel someone’s presence at my side. I paste a broad smile on my face and turn to see…
Shane.
Shock, delight, embarrassment, and heat all course through my veins in simultaneous waves and I nearly falter at the sight of him.
“I’m right here, but last I checked, I wasn’t anyone’s anything,” he says, turning to me with a scowl.
Umm…ouch?
Branson raises an eyebrow and glances between the two of us. Then he clears his throat. “Ah, if you’ll excuse us, we’ll just go and check on reservations.”
Ari looks at me, and I nod, wanting a moment alone with this brute to ensure he doesn’t ruin what could be a perfectly lovely dinner. Even if I want to throw myself into his arms. I resist. Barely.
Here he is, in the flesh and in a place where I can’t run from him. Where’s an Australian winemaker when you need him? My eyes can’t take themselves off the man standing in front of me. Shane Wellington. Pool boy. Wellington Enterprises hotshot. Apparently cousin of my sister’s soon-to-be groom. And oh yeah, taker of my virtue. Well. How about that?
