Page 14 of Anything For You
Kelsey’s eyebrows lifted, but she didn’t look surprised. “Okay. So where would a workaholic lawyer meet someone?”
Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. She could feel the flush creeping up her neck. This shouldn’t be embarrassing. She was successful. She was respected. But under Kelsey’s steady gaze, the gaps in her life felt glaring, impossible to ignore.
“The coffee shop,” Elizabeth said finally. The words came out stiff, like an admission of guilt.
Kelsey’s mouth quirked at the corner, the faintest hint of amusement tugging at her lips. “72 & Brew, then?”
Elizabeth exhaled through her nose, a quiet acknowledgment. It was the only answer that fit. The only place she frequented that wasn’t the office or her apartment—two spaces that were extensions of the same sterile, controlled existence. The coffee shop was the one exception, the one place where the routine felt almost like a choice rather than an obligation.
“So,” Kelsey said, tilting her head just enough to catch the light, “we use the truth?”
Elizabeth’s fingers tightened around her glass, the condensation slick against her skin. The truth. It was so simple, so obvious, and yet it made her heart beat a little faster. “Why not?” she said, her voice carefully measured. “It’s right by the firm. I go there every day. You serve me.” The words came out flat, clinical, as if she were reciting facts in a deposition. But the weight of them settled between them, heavy and undeniable.
Kelsey didn’t look away. Her gaze was steady, warm, as she leaned in just a fraction. “Okay, then. But here’s the thing—“ She paused, her fingers tracing the rim of her glass. “Who asked who out?” The question hung there, light but loaded, as if the answer would determine more than just the details of their story.
Kelsey’s eyes held hers, warm and expectant. Waiting.
Elizabeth’s throat went dry. She took a slow sip of whiskey, the burn grounding her. “I asked you,” she said finally, the words coming out stiff, like a confession.
Kelsey’s smile softened, something knowing flickering in her gaze. “Good. That’s good.” She leaned in just a fraction, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Now, how long have we been together?”
Elizabeth’s pulse jumped. “A few months,” she said, the lie slipping out too easily. “Long enough to be serious, but not so long that people would expect us to be…” She trailed off, the implication hanging between them.
Kelsey’s eyebrows lifted. “Engaged?”
Elizabeth’s jaw tightened. “Yes.”
Kelsey’s grin turned wicked. “So we’re notthatserious yet.”
“No,” Elizabeth said, her voice cool. “We’re not.”
Kelsey’s smile didn’t fade. If anything, it deepened, like she knew exactly what Elizabeth was thinking. “Do you know anyone here?”
The question hung in the air, a baited hook. Elizabeth’s gaze flickered automatically to the far end of the bar, where Scott’s shoulders were shaking with laughter. He had his back to them. For now.
Her throat went dry. “The man at the end of the bar. Scott. He’s a partner at the firm.”
Kelsey followed her gaze, her expression unreadable. She took a slow sip of her drink. “Okay.”
“Okay?” Elizabeth’s voice was tight.
“Okay,” Kelsey repeated, setting her glass down. She turned on her stool, her knee brushing Elizabeth’s again. This time, Elizabeth didn’t move. “He’ll be at the wedding?”
“Probably.” The word came out clipped. The reality of it, the sheer, idiotic risk she was taking, hit Elizabeth like a physical blow. She had brought this stranger, this barista, into the one place where her reputation was everything.
Kelsey’s hand settled on her knee. The touch was light, but it sent a jolt of heat straight through the fabric of her pants. Elizabeth’s breath caught.
“Then he needs to see us,” Kelsey murmured, her voice a low counterpoint to the bar’s chaotic symphony. Her thumb moved, a slow, deliberate circle on the curve of Elizabeth’s knee. “He needs to see you happy.”
The word hung between them. Happy. Elizabeth hadn’t felt happy in years. She had felt successful, driven, sometimes even satisfied. But happy? That was a luxury she couldn’t afford.
6
The whiskey hummed, warm and sweet, behind Kelsey’s ribs. It was a good buzz, the kind that sanded the sharp edges off her anxiety and made her brave. Her hand rested on Elizabeth’s knee. The fabric of her pants was smooth, heated by Elizabeth’s body.
Elizabeth’s breathing hitched, a tiny, sharp sound lost in the bar’s noise. Her posture went rigid. It was the same way she stood at the counter on days her jaw was tight and her order came out clipped. Stressed. Kelsey’s thumb moved, a slow, deliberate circle against the expensive material. A test. A question.
Stay with me,she wanted to say.We can do this.
