“Yeah?”
“It’s going to be a huge violation of privacy if your hand moves like an inch higher.”
“Fuck, sorry.” I snatch my hand away immediately and my whole body falls to the side. He catches me with his arm, blocking the right side of my body from hitting the floor. With his hand tight around my waist, he pulls me upright and I land in his lap, my hair covering most of my face.
He leans up into a sitting position, swiping my hair behind my ear in a movement so delicate my limbs feel liquid. “I’m sorry too, again. About everything.” His arm holds steady around me as we both swallow air, trying to recover. “I haven’t been able to sleep knowing I let you down like that,” he admits, eyes creasing as my breath hitches.
“Me neither,” I agree, wiping a bead of sweat from my forehead. “I think we need to work on being better friends.”
Crystal clears her throat. The sound brings us both back into the room, blinking: the room full of people where I am sitting in Bancroft’s lap, his arm around me, both panting heavily.
“You good?” he asks, looking anywhere but at me as he launches me off his lap.
“Yep!” I reply quickly, keeping my head up and focusing on the suddenly fascinating multicolor tapestry on the wall as I leap to my feet.
We balance in silence for a few moments, heat growing in my cheeks as I try to avoid cataloging every place we’re touching. We switch into the final cooldown position, sitting cross-legged with knees touching the floor, our faces inches apart. I avoid eye contact, choosing instead to stare intensely at the evaporating imprint my sweaty hand left on the mat.
“I can’t keep the painting. It’s too much. You should return it to Calico.”
“Hastings!” he mocks, appalled, breath caressing my cheek. “You’d take a large sum of money out of the hands of a starving artist because of your own pride?”
I want to grab him by his face and shake him. “Urgh, fine. But why don’t you put it in your apartment?” I compromise.
His lips form a smooth line as he considers for a second. He finally shrugs. “Ah, you know, I’d love to, but I just don’t have the wall space.”
I meet his stare, eyes gawking at his stubborn insistence. “Buy a bigger apartment, then!”
“How about this? I can technicallyownthe painting, but you can keep it as long as you want?”
I lift a suspicious eyebrow. “You’re not going to give up, are you?” I let a half smile form on my lips.
“I doubt it.” He shrugs, lips matching mine.
“OK,” I sigh. “New truce. I keep the painting if we agree that asfriendswe have no more secrets.”
I hold out my hand for a cartoonish “put ’er there” shake as something flashes behind his eyes. He takes my hand slowly, tracing his fingers along my palm before squeezing the side of my hand with his thumb.
“No more secrets,” he repeats, keeping his soft grip on me while mulling over the idea. “Friends.”
23
A dark-haired woman with a name tag that says “Hello, I’m Janice. Ask me about our Bratwurst” waves at us from the hotel lobby’s concierge counter. “Mr. Teller left this for you.” She hands me a note: “Wunderbarto meet you both! I cannot wait to begin a fruitful partnership. Our penthouse suite is free for the evening. Please enjoy the best Heimach Hotel has to offer!”
As I finish reading aloud, Janice slides two key cards across the onyx desk with a dramatic flick of the wrist. Everything finally starts to click; is this why Christoph booked us into the couples’ yoga sessions?
“Ummm, I think there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re not together, we’re just colleagues,” I clarify, glancing briefly at Bancroft for backup.
“I’m so sorry about that,” says Janice. “Maybe just one of you could take the suite for the evening? Mr. Teller put room service credits on the room.” Her head flicks between Bancroft and me.
Bancroft smirks, dragging a bronze key card across the shiny black surface toward him. “Remember when you said Egyptian cotton sheets were ostentatious andpretentious? You wouldn’t want to go back on your word, would you?”
I slap my hand down on the other card. “Someone recently told me I should start being open to new experiences.”
My mind drifts to the thought of being spread out across a super king bed, soaking in that huge bathtub, and having my own space for the night to work on my Ditto presentation in peace.
Janice backs away as we stand off, both with a hand on one of the key cards. Half joking, but also completely serious. This has always been our way. We are like the same person in two very different bodies: we want the same things and we can’t help but compete. We’re dancing again, both refusing to admit you can’twina dance.
He looks at me under hooded eyes. “As much as I would love you to have this... I think we can both agree I secured this opportunity.”
