How did Aubrey know that? Just how long had their phone conversation been? I should ask her. She would know. Her job required her to keep track of literally every minute of her day.
Rory kept going. “And I also remember that you hold a grudge longer than anybody not named Hatfield or McCoy should hold one. Like when you thought I broke your talking stuffed animal when you were ten. You were mad about that for years.”
“Was not,” I scoffed. “And two people saw you do it.”
“You can’t count Buster as a person. He was our dog.” She sighed again. “And I think you’re wrong about the kind of man he is now. There’s a real he-goes-to-Africa-to-dig-wells kind of thing happening in his aura. Seriously, he’s hot enough that I’d date him even if his personality sucked.”
Evan was off the phone and smiling as he went over his list, obviously listening in.
“Sound travels,” I whispered to her. “He can hear you.”
“I know what sound does,” she said in her normal tone. “You think I don’t want him to know I think he’s hot? Hey, cutie, how you doin’?” She said the last part loudly.
Evan’s smile widened.
“Don’t you have a boyfriend? Ned or Fred something?”
“Ted. Teddy, actually. But Teddy is no Evan Dawson. And he’s not my boyfriend.” Another happy sigh. “Hey, if you’re not going to date him, do you mind if I ask him out? And if you are going to date, can you introduce me to one of his teammates? Like that Scottish kicker is seriously adorable.”
It was a well-established fact that Baileys had a weakness for football players. It had started with my grandmother, an heiress who had wanted nothing more than to be a sports reporter for the Portland Blaze. She’d ended up with a member of the Jacks as her husband. My dad played college ball, as did Justin before he blew out his knee.
I should be attracted to nice, sweet men. Men who grew beards and kept bees and wrote sonnets about how much they liked my hips. But I was discovering that my body was shallow and easily swayed by muscles and cut jaws and manly forearms.
In the midst of my self-loathing over my poor choices in men, Aubrey breezed back downstairs carrying Joey on one side and Charlotte on the other. She set Charlotte down and went into the kitchen.
“We’re off. Evan, please make yourself at home, and you’ve got my cell number if you have any questions. Thanks so much for helping out.”
“My pleasure.”
I had one last attempt before they left. “Can’t I just take the list home and work on it there? There’s no reason we have to be here.” Both of us. At the same time.
Aubrey swung the diaper bag over her shoulder. “The master lists do not leave my house. I don’t want them to get lost or get stuff spilled on them.”
“That won’t happen. I’m not Rory.”
“Hey!” Rory protested.
“Time for us to go. Come on, Rory, Mom and Dad are expecting you. It’s been a long time since you’ve been home to visit.” Aubrey took Rory by the wrist, like she was another one of her children she had to corral.
Rory whined as she dragged her feet. “There’s a reason for that!”
“Charlotte, Joey, say goodbye to Aunt Ashton and Evan.”
Joey had his head tucked against Aubrey’s shoulder and smiled at me. “Bye.” Then he gave Evan a little wave. “Bye, football man.”
Charlotte hugged me around my legs and then waved widely at Evan. “See you later, Satan!”
There was a stunned silence until Aubrey was back in motion, getting her children and Rory out of the house. The front door closed with the sounds of Aubrey telling her older kid not to call people Satan.
I was alone. With Evan Dawson.
I wanted to follow after them. Seek out refuge in my parents’ home. But I wasn’t a wuss, and I had already let Evan Dawson control a big part of my life. I wasn’t about to give him even more of it.
I’d promised Aubrey, and I was going to do what she’d asked me to do.
Evan stood, walked over to the refrigerator, and pulled out a pitcher of orange juice. He opened a few cabinets, presumably looking for a glass.
“What are you doing?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“Your sister said to make myself at home, and I’m thirsty.” He located a glass and filled it.
“That’s just something people say. They don’t actually want you to start snooping around their house.”
“I’m not snooping. Just getting some juice. Do you want some?”
I didn’t know which annoyed me more—his going into cabinets like he lived here or offering up things that weren’t even his. “No, I don’t.”
Time to stop fixating on Evan. I looked over my list. It wasn’t alphabetical, as I’d assumed it would be. In fact . . . I flipped through the pages, reading names. My sister had given me a list of the kids who’d been in theater. The Chess Club. The AV team. The artists. I didn’t have a single football player or cheerleader or formerly popular teen on my list.
Evan was at the sink, rinsing out the glass before he put it in the dishwasher. Of course he’d be thoughtful like that.
I glanced at his list and saw that Aubrey had given my former tormentors to Evan to contact. It made me less angry with her that she’d done something so sweet. Even though I didn’t need her protection. I wasn’t thirteen any longer. I wasn’t afraid of them like I had been.
“Your niece and nephew are really cute.” Evan sat down, and I scooted my chair back ever so slightly, just so I wouldn’t keep accidentally smelling his cologne.
It didn’t really work. “Yes, they are. We have excellent genes.”
“I would definitely agree with you there.” I felt his gaze on me and looked up to see the teasing, sexy smirk on his face.
“Don’t do that,” I told him.
“Do what?”
“Flirt.”
“Why? Is it working?”
A little. “No.” I could feel the flush starting and willed it stop.
He leaned in, and I could feel the warmth of him against my exposed skin. “We’re all alone now, right?”
“Yes, just the two of us with no witnesses in a room filled with sharp utensils.”
He laughed. “Here’s to hoping we both make it out of this night alive.” I had to refrain from kicking him in the shin. Like I’d stab him. There was no way I was calling my older sister to tell her that I’d stabbed Evan Dawson in her pristine kitchen. She’d probably make me clean it all up.
I decided my best course of action was to ignore him. To do the job Aubrey wanted me to do and then go home. I’d been psyching myself up for the dinner. A dinner that would take place in a neutral area that I’d never been to before. This was different. He was here, in Aubrey’s kitchen, at her table. It was like I had these two worlds colliding, and I didn’t know how to process it all.
At the top of the list was a speech Aubrey had written out for me. It started off with, “Hi, this is [insert your name here].” I wondered what she would do if I called someone and actually said, “Hi, this is insert your name here.” I could tell her that I’d only been following her instructions exactly. It wasn’t worth the potential aggravation, even if I would have been amused.
I was supposed to confirm the list members’ mailing addresses and ask them if they’d like to order an early-bird ticket. Aubrey said in her notes that she wanted us to sell a hundred early-bird tickets. I wasn’t a saleswoman. My sister had recruited the wrong person.
This was apparently not the case with Evan.
“Hi, this is Evan Dawson. I’m calling you about the upcoming ten-year reunion for Westlake.” He paused to laugh, and that megawatt smile that had sold a million sports drinks made me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. “Yes, it’s really me. Oh, just helping out a friend. Anyway, I wanted to make sure I have your correct mailing address and see if you’d like to buy a couple of early-bird tickets for you and your lovely wife.”
Oh, look at me. I’m charming and
hot and rich and hot and famous and athletic and hot. Yes, I said hot three times in my head. Not even my subconscious was listening to reason about why we were not attracted to Evan.
“Fantastic. I’ll put you down for two tickets then. See you there.”
He hung up Aubrey’s landline. I wondered for a second why he wasn’t using his cell, until I realized he probably didn’t want a bunch of random people he’d gone to high school with having his private number.
A private number that he’d given to me without hesitation.
I tried not to read anything into that.
“How many early-bird tickets have you sold?” he asked me, and I recommitted to my plan to ignore him.
Which he didn’t seem to like. He pushed against the foot of my chair so that I was forced to face him. “What?” I demanded.
He looked slightly confused at my irritation. “Women don’t usually ignore me.”
“Only because they don’t know any better.”
“I was only asking how many tickets you’ve sold.”
I scooted my chair back toward the table. “Look, you have your calls to make, and I have mine. We’re not here to chat.” Why was I hearing my mother’s voice in my head telling me to be polite? “And I haven’t sold any yet. Although you could just buy all the tickets.”
It seemed like a brilliant idea. Evan could easily afford it, and then we’d be done.
“Why would I do that? Then I’d be the only one there.”
“Untrue. Your ego is probably your favorite plus-one. I’m sure the two of you would have a fantastic time together.”
He grinned and leaned in toward me. “We could go together. You could be my plus-one. Or I could be yours.”
My plus-one? He wasn’t even in consideration to be my minus-one. I opened my mouth to tell him that, but he kept talking.
“If I bought all the tickets, then I wouldn’t get to spend more time with you, enjoying your ever-so-pleasant company. And nobody wants that to happen.”
I did! “I want that!”
“Do you really?”
What, he was so amazing and wonderful that I should be grateful just to be in his presence? “Yes. Because if you bought all the early-bird tickets, we could go home.”
A wolfish grin lit up his entire stupid handsome face. “Sounds good to me. I’d love to go home with you.”
Why did that make my pulse beat so erratically and my breathing go shallow? “Oh please. Mr. Chastity Belt himself wants to go home with me?”
He moved in closer. “I didn’t say anything would happen. I may flirt, but that’s as far as things would go.” I sucked in a deep breath when he reached over to brush a strand of hair from my cheek, delicately tucking it behind my earlobe. His fingertips were calloused and warm and felt way, way too good. “Even if you have me imagining otherwise.”
He said the words under his breath, as if he hadn’t intended to say them out loud. But I heard them. And my body just reacted with a big yes, please, starting a flush I felt in my stomach that traveled all across my skin. Like the kitchen lights had just sunburned me.
And goose bumps broke out everywhere as he took in my flush, letting his fingers drift down from my ear to my jaw, under my chin. “Ashton, there’s something I need to say—”
Not yet. Not like this. Not when I wasn’t prepared and my defenses were in disarray. “I’m not talking to you about your apology or excuses or whatever.”
He leaned back, taking his hand away. “That’s not what I wanted to say. Because that’s what tomorrow night is for. Tonight is about making sure that Aubrey doesn’t murder us in our sleep for not doing what she wanted. I’d forgotten how scary she could be.”
That made me smile. Against my will.
And he, of course, noticed. “You smiled! An actual, real smile. I was a little worried you’d forgotten how.”
“Maybe that was just a smirk. How do you know I wasn’t envisioning your career-ending injury, reducing you to a life of selling used cars?”
Evan leaned back in his chair, his strong forearms crossed against his broad, tight chest. “My finance guy has made sure I’ll never have to sell used cars, even if I got cut from the team tomorrow. And that was definitely a smile. That I caused. And I’m going to make it happen again. Maybe even make you laugh.”
I couldn’t help myself. He was being really charming. Another smile crept up on me.
“Two in a row!” He raised both of his hands above his head, like a ref signaling a touchdown. “This is almost as good as when I won the Super Bowl last season.”
I twisted my lips, but it didn’t do me any good. I smiled again. “You won the Super Bowl? All by yourself? I’m pretty sure you had some help.”
“Yeah, I did. But that got me Smile Number Three.”
“Okay, you proved whatever point you wanted to prove. Let’s just get back to work.”
Evan smiled at me and nodded as I began dialing the first name on my list. His denim-clad knee grazed against mine, and I jerked away, nearly falling out of my chair.
I’d told Aubrey that the only sparks that could happen between Evan and me were of the things-being-set-on-fire variety.
I was wrong.
Because I felt that slight touch zinging around inside me like an electrical current before it exploded into a ball of fireworks in my stomach.
This was bad. Very, very bad.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Despite the fact that my boss had told me I didn’t have to come in to work, I chose to go in that Friday morning. Because I’d discovered that idleness didn’t really suit me. I liked being busy. And because I didn’t want to think too much about my dinner date with Evan later that evening.
Brenda did not help my cause when she pulled me into her office, giving me makeup and hair tips and suggesting that I take the afternoon off to go shopping for a dress. She even gave me her company American Express card. I felt a little guilty taking it, but I couldn’t really say no.
I told her about my surprise run-in with him, and the longer I talked, the more withdrawn Brenda became.
She cleared her throat, cutting me off midstory. “Look, I can see that you hate this guy, and I don’t blame you, but you need to get him on your side. Win his trust. And that’s not going to happen if you keep being openly hostile toward him.”
“I can’t just pretend like I forgive him.” I mean, I could, but then somebody in Hollywood would have to give me an award.
“You’d be surprised what you’re capable of when your career’s on the line.” Her implication was more than clear. “You know the saying: you can’t make an omelet without compromising some of your principles.”
After more lecturing about how I had to reel in Evan Dawson like he was a prize fish (largemouth bass seemed the best likeness in my wandering mind), she told me to go and get ready. I had, like, seven hours. I didn’t need that long, but I texted my younger sister to see if she wanted to go shopping. She immediately replied.
I was about to ask her if she had class or midterms but figured it wouldn’t matter even if she did. Rory always did whatever she wanted to do. I headed over to the elevators and pushed the down button.
“Where are you going?”
The sound of Rand’s voice startled me, and I put a hand against my fast-beating heart. “Brenda wants me to . . . run some errands for her.” Technically it was a dress for me, but I was doing it at Brenda’s request. But if I told Rand the whole truth, I’d never live it down.
“Lucky girl. I hope you get your Dawson story. I’d hate to see Brenda’s reaction if you don’t come through. Especially if it all turns out to be true and there is no story.”
I already knew what her reaction would be, and I suspected it would end with my entrails thumbtacked onto the company bulletin board as a warning to all future interns.
“I’ll worry about my job, and you worry about yours,” I told him with a bravado I wasn’t really feeling. I excused myself when my elevator arrived. When
I headed inside, I dismissed Rand’s trying to screw with my mind and instead thought about my last few encounters with Evan. He might have come across as a charming, arrogant, handsome jerk face, but nothing he’d said ever felt dishonest. I’d never once gotten the impression that he was lying to me.
I pushed the button for the lobby. Tonight would be the true test. I’d figure out what was really going on with him.
And hopefully keep my entrails on the inside of my body, where they belonged.
Rory and I ended up spending a lot more time shopping than we should have, and she offered to drive me home so I could get ready.
And by “drive,” I mean she sped through the roads like a crazed maniac who’d seen the Fast and the Furious franchise one too many times.
“You can slow down!” I told her. I liked to be on time as much as the next person, but Evan could wait. Safety first. I was sure he would understand.
“You still have to shower and get dressed and blow-dry your hair and put on some makeup. I don’t want you to be late!”
“And I don’t want to be a martyr for punctuality!”
She sneaked into a parking spot right in front of my building. She reached into the back seat and handed me my bags. “No more complaining. We’re here, and nobody died. Have fun tonight. Relax. Be nice. And give the guy a break, would ya?”
I’d like to give him a break. In three places. And why was every Bailey woman so determined for me to give Evan another chance?
To be honest, I was surprised my mother hadn’t weighed in yet. She reminded me of an app on my phone, in that she was always bugging me for updates on my life.
Because somebody had to have told her. Despite her constant assurance that she could keep a secret, Rory only kept secrets in circulation. My mom had to know. Her silence on the subject was disconcerting.
We waved goodbye, and Rory darted back out into traffic. I made my way upstairs to my condo and got ready as quickly as I could. I didn’t do a lot of fancy dates at upscale restaurants, so I wasn’t quite sure how to do my makeup. And I didn’t have time for somebody on YouTube to teach me.
#Awestruck (A #Lovestruck Novel) Page 7
