Isaac
Sorry I had to go, but hope you have an amazing morning.
What sounds good for lunch?
I should’ve predicted this. After our first date, we were practically inseparable. If I wasn’t at work or in class, we were together. Most of it was happenstance—running into each other while studying at the library or the grocery store. I swear if the technology existed to track someone back then, I would’ve thought he was stalking me. He wasn’t. It was the damn universe shoving us together only to rip us apart.
Once I’m settled into my home office, and with nothing to lose, I shoot off a quick reply.
Working from home until the media circus dies down. I’ll probably just have a palmful of wasabi-flavored almonds in a rush.
His message appears mere seconds later.
Don’t make me send you Mongolian BBQ.
Don’t make me send you sushi. We both know it won’t travel well.
Should we split nachos?
I doubt those would travel well either.
Only one way to find out.
He sets his phone to Do Not Disturb, leaving me reeling. What the hell did he mean by that? I don’t have a moment to process it as Aubrey enters, dumping her purse onto the edge of my desk in a huff as she sits in the armchair across from me. Without a word, she pulls out her laptop, placing it on her legs and aggressively pressing the power button.
“Everything okay?” I hedge.
I give her a minute while she types her username and password into the computer, but she types as if the keys have personally wronged her. “No,” she grumbles, not glancing up. “Men are fucking stupid.”
“Agreed, but what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” After a deep sigh, she launches in. “Science is advanced now. We don’t need men. They can just splooge into a cup andboom!Society endures. Fuck these assholes who make us feel special when they just ghost you or want a situationship.” She air-quotes the last word with one hand, and I do my best not to laugh. “Sorry, I’m just annoyed at men being… men.”
“So, I’m guessing things didn’t go well with Brad.”
“Chad,” Aubrey corrects. “And no, it was another bullshit date.” She finally looks up. “Why are you smiling?”
“I’m not,” I fib, doing my best to hide my amusement. I’m unsure if I should tell her about Isaac yet, since she’ll probably judge me or at least insist I stop talking to him. She’d be correct,but for now, I want to keep last night to myself. “What happened with your date?”
“It’s not just one thing. It’s like that feeling when you’ve had one too many espresso martinis than you should’ve. You’re definitely drunk—but not throw-up drunk—and your lips tingle a little, and you feel amazing. But deep down, you know you’re about to crash so fucking hard, and the morning regrets will follow.”
“And here we are in your morning regrets?”
“Yes,” she groans. Returning her attention to her laptop, she continues, “It was all fun and games until I found out he was just laid off from his investment firm, and over morning coffee, he admitted he’s looking at ‘making it big’ in crypto. I don’t need money; I want a real connection… Wait a minute.” She cocks an eyebrow and glares at me. “You’re definitely smiling, and my story is not that amusing.”
“I’m not, I promise.”
She smirks. “What did you do last night?”
“Nothing,” I fib again. “I’m just stressed with everything happening. My face just hasn’t caught up with the fact that I’m not in front of a camera.”
“Right.” Her eyes narrow.
“I’m serious, Bree!” I hate lying to her, but what’s the alternative?
“Right,” she repeats, keeping her narrowed gaze pinned on me. “You can tell me later once we wrap up our morning meetings. But so help me, if you’re talking to that hot Canadian…”
I can’t lie a fourth time and instead busy myself with my work. Thankfully, she drops it, and for the next few hours, we comb through media inquiries with my team, have no less than a dozen video calls, and adjust next week’s schedule. My stomach grumbles—my own fault for not eating breakfast—and I reach for my almond stash in my desk, popping a handful into my mouth before replying to an email.
