As the cashier boxes it up, I try not to think too hard about how she’ll react when I give it to her.
I just hope she likes it.
???
The rest of the afternoon and evening passes in a blur. Errands. Groceries. Laundry. A shower. By the time I hear the front door to Rosie’s apartment open and close, I’ve gone over a thousand different ways to bring up the ring I bought without freaking her out.
But then I hear it—There are two voices in my living room, not one.
One of them is Rosie’s, soft, warm and familiar. And the other’s is the deep voice of a man that I don’t recognize.
My stomach knots as I freeze by the door, trying to catch what’s being said.
“Well, that went better than we expected.”
I hear Rosie laugh, her tone easy and light. “Yeah, it’s always nice when things work out like that.”
“I’ll have one of my interns type up my notes and send over for your review later tonight. Do you want me to call his agent and let him know that we got the charges dropped?”
“That sounds good. Then we can come up with our plan for the Paris case.”
The sound of her voice pulls me closer to the doorway, but before I can fully piece together what’s happening, I hear the fridge door open. That wasn’t part of the plan.
There’s a pause, then a hesitant, “Um…” from Rosie.
Dammit. She wasn’t supposed to find what I left in the fridge.
The door closes softly, and her voice falters, losing that breezy confidence from earlier.
“You know what Dierks, maybe tonight isn’t the best time to discuss the Paris brief.”
“No problem. I have a dinner reservation booked for eight o’clock anyway. We can regroup tomorrow morning at the office.”
“You still go to that steakhouse ever week?”
Dierks chuckles easily. “Wouldn’t miss it. You’ve got to try their steak.”
Over my dead fucking body is she having dinner with this guy.
“Ah, yeah,” she says, fumbling now. “I’ll have to try that sometime.”
The hell she will unless it’s with me.
I hear some shuffling around like the guy’s picking up his briefcase and moving to the door and then it opens. “See ya tomorrow.”
And the door shuts. As soon as it closes, I’m out of my bedroom like a bull charging into the ring.
“Shit, Boone, you scared me!” Rosie clutches her chest, staring at me wide-eyed from where she’s standing in her small kitchen.
“Figured you knew I was here after you saw the fridge.” My tone is dry.
She shakes her head, still trying to catch her breath. “No, I thought you’d been here, but I didn’t know that you wereeaves droppingon my private conversation.”
Her hands fall to her hips, her glare meeting mine head-on. I hold my ground, matching her stare. Apologizing is not on the table right now when there’s a chance she’s going to dinner with that guy and I’m feeling wildly possessive and jealous.
When was the last time we had dinner together? Oh, this past weekend in Brookhaven. Well, it’s been too damn long and I’m feeling needy.
“Who was that?”
