Page 112 of In Case You Didn't Know
“Annalise,” I say.Fuck. Just when I thought today was getting better.
She looks at Francie expectantly, as though she’s waiting for me to introduce them. But before I can say anything, Francie lifts her hand.
“Hi,” she says, smiling. “I’m Francie.”
Annalise blinks, disarmed. “So you’re the latest then?”
Francie doesn’t miss a beat. “The latest what?”
Annalise opens her mouth to reply, but thinks better of it and closes it again. And I’m reminded of just how much I like Francie Salinger. I squeeze her hand tightly.
Annalise runs her tongue along her bottom lip. “How are you?” she asks me.
“I’m fine.” My voice is tight. “And you?”
She inhales softly. “Nathan hasn’t been well,” she says. “The doctors think it could be serious.”
I swallow hard at the mention of my ex-business partner. Not that I’m surprised he’s unwell. You can only snort so much coke before it messes up everything in your life.
Francie looks from me to Annalise, like she’s working out who Annalise is. Her hand squeezes mine and damn it feels good.
“He overdosed a week ago. He’s in the hospital in Aruba.” Annalise looks at me like it’s my fault. “He’s only just regained consciousness.”
The words hit harder than I expect. Not because I feel sorry for him. Nathan Vale knew exactly what kind of game he was playing when he tried to gut our company from the inside. But because it means something else.
If he’s been unconscious for a week, he’s definitely not behind the breach. And there goes my last hope that it isn’t somebody I trust.
“I hope he recovers,” I say, because it’s the right thing. But I don’t miss the way Francie’s thumb strokes gently along the side of my hand.
Like she knows I need her.
Seeing the way I don’t let her hand go, Annalise nods tightly. Christ, I don’t want to hurt the woman, even though she gave Nathan information on me. Information that helped him nearly steal the company from me. But I need her gone.
“Have a good evening,” I tell her. It’s a dismissal. She’s not stupid, she gets that. With one more sweeping look, she gazes at Francie with equal parts curiosity and disdain, then turns on her heel and disappears back behind the huge pots of trees that are artfully laid out to give each table some privacy.
Once I know she’s gone, I let out a low breath and rake my free hand through my hair.
For a second neither of us says anything. Then we both talk at once.
“I’m sorry. I wasn’t?—”
“She’s something.” Francie lifts a brow. But there’s no edge to her words. Just warmth. “She’s the sister of your ex business partner, right?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“And you two had a thing?” Her eyes lock on mine. She’s not stupid, she can pick up cues. But I still hate that my sordid past and my perfect present are clashing.
There’s a tightness in my chest as I nod. “We dated for a while. Before Nathan screwed me over.”
“And then?”
“I found out she’d been reading my emails while I was asleep,” I tell her. “Is this the part where I need to grovel?” Because no woman wants to come face to face with their date’s ex. Especially not when she’s flown in to spend time with him.
But, because she’s Francie, she blows me away.
“You don’t need to grovel about having a past, Asher.” Her eyes meet mine, her gaze unwavering. “I care about you,” she adds, her voice soft. “Whatever drama came before me, it’s not going to scare me off.” She wrinkles her nose. “Even if she did have the perfect shoes.”
My lips twitch, remembering the flats I insisted Francie wear.
