Page 22 of Wrong Place, Wright Time
“You think I'm being an idiot?”
“Well, yeah. Because you’re putting the pressure of two broken marriages on a guy who seems to be willing to go out of his way to be with you. He's brought you coffee every morning and walked you to work, taking the time to learn as much as he can about you, and he even agreed to do a puzzle with you instead of going on a date—which was obviously an awesome idea because you look rather well fucked this morning.”
“You’ve got me there.”
“I know. I’mveryperceptive, and as the perceptive one in our friendship, I’m also suggesting that you drop the idea of all relationships leading to marriage and a future right intp the trash. No one needs that pressure. You and Banks can enjoy the absolute fuck out of each other and never commit to a single thing besides fucking and making time for each either. All relationships are based on friendship. And if you add passion to that, you’ve got something really special. So just be clear about your boundaries with him and enjoy it.” She leans in close and smiles. “I dare you.”
Banks
“Shouldn’t you be at work or something?” I ask Ronan as he sits on one side of the bar, drinking Grey Goose while I take inventory—something he’s currently depleting on my dime.
“I should. But I just fired my assistant, and if I go back there, I’ll fire the whole damn team too.”
“Not the promotion you thought it’d be?” I ask, doing a quick count of the mixers in the cocktail fridge. It’s late afternoon, and the only employees I have on site at the moment are my manager and the cleaners. Ronan is the one freeloader, and if he keeps drinking at the rate he is, he’s going to be hammered before sundown.
“Nope.” He pops his P as he drains his glass then crunches on a piece of ice. “I thought I’d have this unstoppable teams of analysts. But instead, I have a bunch of green kids who are too scared to make a single fucking call without running it by me first. It’s painful. I’m just a glorified babysitter.”
“And what made you fire your assistant?”
“I told her not to let any of them in my office and she did. So now she’s gone.”
“Harsh.”
He shrugs. “Probably. I’m a cunt, aren’t I?”
I shrug. “Probably.”
Placing his hand on his face, he groans. “This was supposed to be career changing, man. If I can’t get these guys investing like they know what they’re doing, I’ll end up making less than I was when I was on someone else’s team.”
“Then teach them how. Show them how to be the fearless investor you are. You’ve seen fucking Field of Dreams enough times to know that you have to build it before they come.”
“Jesus. I swear that was the only video tape your grandmother owned.”
“She watched that movie until the tape wore out. She was a big Kevin Costner fan and a hater of new technology. Took me ages to get her another working copy.”
“She wouldn’t switch to DVD?”
“No way. And now that there’s internet and you can stream? She’d consider that the devil’s playground. ‘Not in my house,’” I mimic, causing Ronan to laugh just as my skin pricks and I lift my head, feeling her before I see her. “Hey there.”
“You look surprised to see me,” Isla says, walking toward me with that sultry sway of her hips that has me practically growling with a need to get her upstairs into my apartment.
Ronan lets out a low whistle. “Who isthis?”
“This is Isla,” I say by way of introduction. Isla smiles and pauses at the bar next to him. “Isla, this is Ronan.”
“Oh!” She says immediately, holding out her hand. “The guy you grew up with.”
“That’d be me,” he says, nodding as he shakes her hand in return. “And you’re the unobtainable woman obtained.”
I wince before taking the bottle of vodka away from him. “That’ll be enough for you,” I say, shaking my head because the asshole is going to scare her away before we’ve even worked out what we are to each other. Luckily, Isla just laughs.
“Oh, I’m still unobtainable,” she says.
Ronan gives me a look that’s a mix between being disappointed the bottle is gone and thinking I’ve gotten myself in over my head with this one. And maybe I have.
During the years of our friendship, neither of us could be what you’d call a long-term kind of guy. We’ve both been one hundred percent career and goal driven. But where he and I differ now is that I’ve achieved all my career goals, and now I want something more. And I want that something with Isla. I don’t care if I have to work every day to get it, I’m willing to put in the time until she’s sure I’ll never walk away from her. Which I won’t, because after all, I did put my name on her. She’s mine now.
“Sounds like you’ve got a battle on your hands, buddy,” Ronan says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his wallet. “Guess I should leave you two to it.” He goes to put money on the counter to cover his drinks, but I wave him away—we do this dance all the time, but pride says he at least needs to offer. “Nice to meet you, Isla. Hopefully this guy treats you well enough that we meet again.” He takes her hand and presses a light kiss to the back of it, causing a slight possessive flare to tighten my chest. But then he turns to me and gives me a salute, heading to the door with his hands in his pockets, whistling like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
