Her mouth fell open. “Theentireworld?”
“Yeah,” I groaned dramatically. “See! I’m stupid. This has never happened before, Ro, I don’t understand it.”
“You’re not stupid, Cole, you’re just a mess,” Rowan said cheerfully. “But honestly? A lovable one. So, when is this date happening?”
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “Saturday at two. I’m picking them up. Should I take a car myself? Or use my driver? But what if he thinks I’m flashing cash—or worse, that I’m some pretentious asshole? Maybe I should get a cab? But then the car seat situation—babies need one, obviously, and I bought three to test them out and?—”
“Stop!” Rowan planted her palms on my desk and glared down at me. “Heknowsyou have money. That’s not news. And he’s not going to judge you for using the resources you already have. So yes—use your driver. Practice with the damn car seats. Breathe.”
I opened my mouth, but she wasn’t done.
“And speaking of you being rich and shit—” She gave me a pointed look. “You’resurehe’s going on this date for therightreasons?”
Out of all the things I’d worried about, his agreeing to this date because of how much money I had hadn’t even made the list. But now? Jesus. Should it be? My mind took off at a sprint—what if he felt obligated, or trapped, or like saying yes was easier than saying no? What if he just wanted my money and didn’t want to kiss me, and I forced him? What if I was reading everything wrong? What if this blew up in his face and mine? What if?—
“Cole.” Rowan’s voice cut through my second bout of spiraling, sharp, and exasperated.
Before I could blink, she yanked me out of my chair and hauled me into a fierce hug, arms tight around my shoulders.
“You are the best man I’veneverdated,” she muttered into my shoulder. “Trust your gut. It’s better than your brain, which is clearly trying to kill you.”
Lennox stepped in then, hovering in the doorway with a stack of files tucked under one arm and pure suffering etched across his face. He gave a pointed cough, the kind that demanded attention without saying a word.
“Oh, good, the muscle is here,” he said dryly. “Help me pin the boss down, Rowan. He needs to sign these before someone burns this building to the ground. Possibly me.”
Rowan didn’t miss a beat. She released me, turned with a grin, and drawled, “Lennox, sweetheart, if you wanted my hands onyou, all you had to do was ask.”
Lennox went bright pink. Actually pink. He fumbled the folders, nearly dropped one, and made a sound that could only be described as a strangled squeak.
“I—that’s not—I meant legally pinColedown, not me?—”
“Oh, I know what you meant,” Rowan said, patting his cheek as she sauntered past him toward the door. “But it’s fun watching you malfunction.”
Lennox shot me a helpless look, as if I had any control over my best friend. I held up my hands in surrender.
“Later, boys,” Rowan called with a little wave, already halfway down the hall.
Lennox blew out a breath, straightened his shirt as if he hadn’t just been flirted into short-circuiting, and dropped the stack of files onto my desk.
“Please,” he begged. “Just sign things in the right place this time.”
“Stay there,” I said, knowing the only way it would get done was if he hovered and judged every pen stroke.
He did. Lennox stood over me while I signed each page in the correct place for once. When the last signature was done, he snatched the files up with a relieved huff.
“Miracles do happen,” he muttered. “I’m framing this day.” Then, with a tiny, embarrassed nod—still recovering from Rowan—he headed out of my office.
The room fell quiet.
A buzz from my phone broke the silence. I glanced down.
A text from Morgan.
It was a photo—Gabbi in the hat I’d bought her. Too big, sliding over one eye, her gummy smile aimed straight at the camera as if she knew she was rocking that one-eyed look.
She loves it, Morgan had typed.
And just like that—every worry, every spiral, every fear about money and motives and dates and drivers—slipped clean out of my mind.
