“You were staring.”
“Oh, um…nothing, just impressed at your typing speed on your phone.”
Kill. Me. Now.
He smiles. “It’s a necessary skill. Mostly for my secretary, who doesn’t have to decipher my handwriting.”
“How do you know the officer? Peter.”
“He’s a key witness in a custody case I’m handling.”
His phone rings, and he frowns a little. I make a gesture to indicate I’ll go back to the group, but he stops me. “Can you wait a moment? We need to talk.”
I nod as he takes the call. “Mr. Jones, how can I help you?”
I take a step back to give him some privacy but can’t help overhearing his side of the call.
“A function? Oh yes…right…no, I didn’t know. Yes, yes, great opportunity to meet everyone. No, no, it’s fine, you can call me anytime…thank you, sir. Good night.”
When I’m sure the call is over, I turn back to Harrison. His eyebrows furrow as he stares at the phone like it might combust.
“Everything okay?” I ask.
“What? Yes…of course.”
“Tell me if I’m out of line, but it doesn’t sound like everything’s okay.”
He lets out a breath. “It’s…there’s a work function I need to attend next weekend…”
“And…you’re nervous about it?”
He looks at me. “No, these things happen all the time. It’s just…never mind, I’ll figure it out.”
“Hey.” I put my hand on his arm. His eyes soften, making my stomach tighten.
“I don’t have a date,” he says, and there’s so much vulnerability in his eyes, it makes me want to hug him. “In Boston, Stella used to come with me. Everyone at my company already knew her, and it was a fun night for us. As friends, you know?”
I don’t know if he intends to make it clear to me that there’s nothing between him and Stella or if it’s just a passing comment.
“Stella can’t go with you this time?” That’s not the question I want to ask, but it’s the one that leaves my mouth.
“I don’t know. I just found out about the event, but I don’t want to ask Stella. It’s not fair to her. She just started dating someone, and it could be serious. I haven’t met the guy, but Megan seems to like him.”
“And in his position, you wouldn’t be happy to see the person you’re falling for go on a date with their ex,” I add.
“Yeah.” He puts his phone away. “It’s fine. I can go on my own.”
“I can go with you,” I blurt out. “I’ve been to plenty of schmoozing events, so if you want me to stand pretty by your side, I can scrub up nicely. If you need me to run interference, then I can be your guy too…and I’ll shut up now because you clearly don’t—”
“Yes,” he says, saving me from myself. “I’d love it if you came with me.”
“Really?”
The way he’s looking at me changes. He lifts his hand as if he’s about to touch my hair but draws back at the last moment before looking at the group.
“Yeah. Something tells me attending an event with you could be fun.”
“And not just because I’ll run commentary on how everyone would look naked?”
