Page 74 of Blame it on the Bet
Closed.
After a few seconds, I see the familiar animated dots showing me that he’s writing.
Got one to go.
“Hah!” I laugh out loud into the empty apartment.
Sure! Coffee? And maybe a little dessert with your dessert?
…
On. My. Way. :)
Five minutes later, he’s standing in my hallway, a bag from The Little Slice of Heaven Pie Shop in one hand, snowflakes stuck to his hair and eyelashes. He stomps the snow off his boots on the big rubber mat, and I take the pie from him so he can pull them, and his coat, off.
“Damn! It’s really coming down out there!” I hear him say as I slip the pie out of its box and set it on the table,
where I’ve already laid out a couple of small plates and fresh mugs of coffee.
“Yup. Typical for this time of the year. The plows are out already, though.”
“Wow, you look sexy,” he says, leaning in the kitchen doorway.
“Please!” I scoff, looking down at my fluffy pink robe and bunny slippers. “I’m sure Victoria’s Secret would love to do an intervention with me.”
“Oh, now, that I’d love to see,” he murmurs with a naughty grin. He walks toward me, takes the pie cutter out of my hand, and sets it on the table. Before I know what’s happening, his lips are on mine, his hands wrapped around my waist and pulling me closer to him.
“Hi,” I say, looking up at him, when we finally allow a few inches separation between our faces.
“Hi.” He smiles down. “I missed you today. How was the meeting with your sisters?”
“Some good, some bad. We’re getting close… I’m sorry, Bryan, can we please not do this?”
“Do what?” he asks, his dark brows furrowed in confusion.
“This. I can’t pretend that you’re rooting for me to win this. We both know that you’re not and whatever…whatever this is between us right now, we both know that it’s going to come to an end soon enough.”
“It doesn’t have to…”
“Doesn’t it? It’s not looking like we’re going to raise this money. I’m going to have to sell to you. You’re going to knock down this huge piece of my life and turn it into a parking lot.”
“Entertainment complex,” he corrects me.
“Whatever. It doesn’t matter. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get past it, much as I might want to. And if, by some miracle, I do raise the cash to buy out the loan, what then? You’ve got no reason to hang around here. You’ll go back to your life on the West Coast.”
He looks down at me, his dark, penetrating eyes never breaking contact with mine.
“You could come with me, you know,” he offers in a near whisper.
I smile at his sweet face and then extricate myself from his hold, taking a seat at the kitchen table. He joins me.
“I’m not kidding, Hennessy,” Bryan states as he watches me spoon sugar into his coffee.
“No, I know you aren’t,” I agree.
“You’ve already taken a leave from your job. Why not just quit and come out west? There are plenty of law firms there…”
“But that’s just it. I don’t want to be a lawyer anymore. I don’t know what I want long term, but I do know that, right now, I want this.”
