by T Gephart
Deciding to stick the folder into a drawer and letting it be a problem for another day, I poured myself a scotch.
I’d left Zara and Belle’s Greenwich Village apartment on Saturday and hadn’t heard from either of them since. I’d been working from my hotel room, checking up on a floundering company that Locke and Collins were looking to acquire. They had some cash flow problems but were otherwise sound, so I had set up a meeting with their board for tomorrow. If all went well, I’d submit my findings to the partners by the end of the day and I’d have the rest of the week all to myself.
Of course, there was always the possibility I’d be called back early. With my work wrapped up, there was no valid reason to stick around New York. But having family upstate meant I got to play a little fast and loose with my return date. They gave me some leeway so I could go home and see the folks and I flew in and out of the city as much as they needed. It was a fair deal that usually worked well for me, and the current circumstances were no different. Though I doubted I’d be making it to Rochester this time around, sorry Mom and Dad.
The scotch went down easy as I sunk into the plush sofa in my room. My phone buzzed beside me, the ringer having been turned off a few hours ago. I’d intended to ignore it, having given myself the night off from work, but I stupidly picked it up. Deep down I hoped it was Zara even though my gut told me it wasn’t. I just couldn’t get her out of my head.
“Hey!” I answered, glad to see it was Nate, happy to take a social call rather than one from the firm. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”
We usually saw each other a couple of times whenever I was in town but both of us had crazy-ass schedules. He worked rotating shifts in the ER, and it wasn’t unusual for me to be logged into the company portal until the early hours of the morning.
“Was wondering if you’d had dinner yet? I’ve got a night off from the hospital and figured we could catch up a little more than we did the other night.”
“Dinner? Well, that sounds fancy,” I laughed, our get-togethers usually at the coffee shop around the corner from the hospital or in the bar of whatever hotel I was staying at.
“Yes, moron. And not at a bar. Somewhere that has tablecloths, and the menus aren’t laminated, and I have an excuse to wear a suit. You can pay of course because you sold your soul to Satan and saving lives doesn’t pay as well.”
I laughed, glad for both the distraction and a chance to leave my room. I’d have probably ordered room service again. “Nathaniel Baxter, are you asking me out on a date? How many times am I going to have to turn you down, buddy? I don’t care how much you love cock, you’re still not going to be able to handle mine.”
“You are such a jerk.” Nate chuckled. “And I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on earth.”
I mock gasped, pretending to be offended. “Well, now you’re just being hurtful.”
“Learned from the best.” I could hear the grin in his voice. “Now stop wasting time and meet me down in the lobby. I’ve got reservations at Matteo’s.”
I straightened my tie, and other than shucking my jacket earlier, I was still wearing most of my suit. Nate probably already knew that, my reputation for being ready to hit a courtroom at a moment’s notice, something he’d given me shit about more than once.
“And if I’d said no?”
He chuckled softly. “Please, Archer. When have you ever turned down a nice dinner with good-looking company? You were a sure thing.”
“I’ll be down in ten.”
I ended the call, grabbed my jacket, wallet and phone and took one last mouthful of scotch. My fingers thumbed through my phone, calling my driver as I locked my hotel room. I was glad I didn’t have to drive, free to drink a little more as the evening progressed without worrying about a DUI. And thinking about Zara with Edwin—which I still was—made me want to reach for more than just another scotch.
The elevator opened to the ornate lobby of the Four Seasons and it didn’t take long to locate Nate. Not sure how he still had the energy to smile and look so goddam optimistic when he spent most of his time dealing with one emergency after another. Guess it further reaffirmed I’d made the right call by leaving medicine.
“Wow, Archer. Five minutes notice and you still stroll in devastatingly handsome. Have you no shame?” Nate rolled his eyes. “I like this scruff thing you’ve got going on.” He pointed to my chin. “Sexy in that I’m going to destroy your life and sleep with your wife kind of way.”
I smirked, straightening my jacket as we waited for the driver. “Stop hitting on me, Nate. You already said you wouldn’t date me if I was the last man on earth. You can’t backtrack now.”
We made small talk as we waited for the car, the conversation between us always easy. I’d never cared that he was gay, or worried he was going to try and seduce me or some shit. He’d been one of the most dependable and honorable guys I’d ever met, and that was all that mattered to me.
Which meant . . .
“So there’s something I want to run past you,” I said as we slid into the waiting car.
Nate told the driver where we were heading before turning back to me. “If this is about any kind of rash, it needs to wait until after dinner.”
“Not a rash.” I unconsciously reached to my neck and worked the muscles that had bunched at the base of my skull. “It’s about a woman.”
“Really?” Nate’s brow rose but didn’t look incredibly surprised. “And no one knows women like a gay man, right? Thanks for perpetuating the stereotype.”
“Oh har-har,” I mock laughed. “And it is about one in particular. I swear, I think there’s something wrong with me because she’s all up in my head.”
Nate waved his hand urging me to go on.
My eyes flicked to the driver who was mostly ignoring us. He was on a huge retainer with Locke and Collins and wouldn’t risk his cushy paycheck to spread gossip about me. Still, I wasn’t in the habit of showing anyone weakness, so I swallowed before continuing.
“I met her a few nights ago, at the hospital, actually.” Heat traveled up my neck just thinking about her. “She’s beautiful. Not just a pretty face but the body and brains to match. She’s quick with her mouth and funny, and even though I hardly know her, I can’t stop thinking about her.”
Nate nodded but stayed silent.
“I asked her out, we had coffee. She’s a lawyer too if you can believe it, and everything was going really great.”
“And?” Nate asked, rightly guessing it didn’t have a happy ending.
“I might not have been totally honest about who I was.” I grimaced. “I didn’t lie,” I added quickly, wanting the record to show that I wasn’t going out of my way to deceive her. “But she thought I was someone else and I let her believe it.”
He listened without comment as I recounted the night, and then all about the next day at their apartment. And even how I’d found the cocksucker—I mean Edwin Carlisle—fully intending on showing I was a man of my word.
But.
But, but, but.
“You think she’s going to meet the real Edwin and fall in love with him?” he asked drily.
“No. I mean, I don’t know. He is probably a decent guy,” I lied. Because I didn’t believe he was decent at all. I’d already concocted my version of events, and he was a shady piece of shit with more money than personality.
“Right,” Nate deadpanned. “Decent guy is exactly what you think about him.”
To be fair, I hadn’t really sold it. Mainly because it was Nate, and his tolerance for bullshit was low. And I’d obviously told him about Zara because I wanted his input so lying about it wasn’t going to help.
I rolled my eyes and let it fly. “Fine, he’s a jerk-off. I don’t know him, but trust me I know the type. New York, Boston, Chicago—all the major cities are full of these little pricks who bought their way into college or business on Daddy’s coin. They wouldn’t know what to do without a trust fund and their idea of foreplay is showi
ng a woman their overpriced sports car.”
Nate coughed out a laugh. “Wow, tell me how you really feel. Also, don’t you own a Jaguar?”
“It’s a ’74 E-Type and a classic, not the same thing,” I scoffed, the comparisons between them laughable. “And I bought it as an investment, not to help me get women into bed.” Considering the amount of time I actually got to drive the thing, it might as well be on blocks in some fancy garage. But I got to stretch her legs a little whenever I was home and not working weekends.
“Yeah, totally not the same thing. Completely different. Not even remotely close. I’m sure you clarify its investment potential whenever you show it to a woman. Elaborate on its scope for appreciation in the current market’s climate.” Nate smirked.
“Anyway, this isn’t about me,” I pointed out, not wanting to get sidetracked. “This is about Zara, and whether or not I tell her about this guy.”
Originally, I’d intended to.
All part of the mea culpa and to prove I wasn’t a complete jerk.
But things change.
And maybe integrity was overrated.
Nate leveled me with a stare that told me he was about to lay down some realness. “We both know you’re going to tell her. Because as much as you pretend to be like those bastards you work for, you have a conscience and a heart. And you’re not going to lie your way to an advantage. If you were going to do that, you’d have slept with her, and ghosted when you blew out of town. Not like she would’ve been able to track you down.”
He was right.
Of course, he was right.
It was clear where we’d been heading that night, and I had the perfect excuse never to see her again.
I was leaving.
She’d have never known who I was, or if she found out later I wasn’t Edwin, I’d be somewhere else not dealing with the fall out.
“Could you not just lie to me, pretend to be a team player?” I sighed, not all that surprised. “Just once, Nate.”
“Maybe if you’d asked me to be your best man instead of me hearing it from your fake fiancée, I’d have been nicer.” His shit-eating grin spread across his incredibly smug face.
“What?” I asked, wondering if I’d heard right. Since there was nothing wrong with my hearing and Nate wasn’t in the habit of misspeaking, it meant . . . “Start talking, Nate. And I mean, right now.”
Of course that was the exact moment we’d arrived at the restaurant, the stupid traffic not giving me five more fucking minutes before the driver turned around and announced we’d reached our destination.
I quickly—and probably rudely—thanked him, hustling out of the car and hoping Nate did the same. I wasn’t above pulling him out the door and planting him on the sidewalk beside me. And while he was only an inch or so shorter and not that much lighter, I was more than confident I was capable.
“Talk,” I barked, watching the blacked-out SUV that had driven us disappearing back into traffic.
“Why don’t we go in, sit at the table and have a conversation like civilized people?” Nate smirked, edging toward the door.
“You’re a complete dick,” I huffed out, annoyed he clearly knew more than he was letting on and was making me wait.
He chuckled, heading toward the door of the restaurant and holding it open. “Nah, a complete dick wouldn’t be able to resuscitate you. I, dear friend, can.”
I rolled my eyes, walking into Matteo’s while he followed closely behind.
“Resuscitate? Why—” I didn’t get to finish the sentence, my eyes snagging on her from across the room.
Zara.
Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.
Zara
Dinner with Nate and Lincoln was the last thing I thought I’d ever do.
Mainly because up until two days ago I hadn’t even met Nate, which was right around the time I was convinced I’d never see Lincoln again.
But Sunday had been full of revelations.
So when Nate called me Monday afternoon to invite me to dinner—telling me Lincoln would be there—I hadn’t immediately said no like I’d assumed.
My mouth was open, the word right there in my throat.
Except when it left my lips it had been a “yes” instead.
Damn him.
I swear, he was a male, much taller version of Belle.
He’d been charming, funny and warm on our shared walk back to the hospital, and more surprisingly, hadn’t asked about Lincoln.
Which of course made me super curious.
I had pretended to be engaged to his best friend.
Implicated him in my web of deceit.
And he didn’t have questions?
What was wrong with him?
And more importantly, what the hell was wrong with me that I couldn’t accept what was obviously a gift—spared the inquisition and probably judgment—and move the hell on. Which made him a riddle I needed to crack, with the added incentive of gathering further intelligence on Lincoln, which I’d convinced myself I didn’t want but for some reason desperately needed.
I was a smart woman, so why I was acting like a teenager was beyond me.
Numbers were exchanged—much to both of our surprise—my parting flippant remark of having dinner together sometime with Lincoln, the last thing I’d said.
Because of course I had to have the last word.
And a referee seemed smart.
Also there was less chance of us ripping each other’s clothes off because even though I’d convinced myself I was repulsed by Lincoln, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.
But wow, reality was a huuuuuuge wakeup call and wasn’t as neat as it had been in my head.
Firstly, he’d somehow gotten better looking since I said goodbye to him.
Despite wearing a suit—which did fabulous things for his body —his hair was ruffled like he’d just rolled out of bed. His scruff-covered chin played into the fantasy, looking like he’d been doing some heavy-duty battle in the boardroom—and bedroom—before gracing us with his presence.
And if the widening of his midnight blue eyes were anything to go by, I’d say he hadn’t known I was going to be there.
Nate, I might have fallen a little bit in love with you. The advantage and the slight upper hand it gave me, one of the sexiest things ever.
“Gentlemen.” I stood, both of them stopping at our cozy round table. “Nate, the menu looks delicious, I can’t believe I’ve never eaten here before.” I smiled, watching as Lincoln tried to get his shit together.
It was so rewarding to watch.
A man who could no doubt fly by the seat of his pants in most circumstances, and could smooth talk his way out of anything, was at a loss for words and I had something to do with it.
Lincoln’s eyes raked up and down my body, his Adam’s apple bobbing slowly as he took a big swallow. “Zara, you look . . .” He paused, taking an even more measured perusal, “beautiful tonight.”
I smiled even though I was partly disappointed he was able to string that together. “Thanks.” I waved casually, my heart beating madly in my chest. “You look hideous, you let yourself go in the last few days?”
Lies.
So many lies, but I’d never been so grateful to be spilling them because the truth—that he looked amazing and I wanted to wrap myself around his body and kiss him again—wasn’t going to be repeated.
To think I’d convinced myself I’d been high or hypnotized or something else on Saturday night and he hadn’t been that attractive. Yeah, well that theory was a bust.
He wasn’t just attractive, he was mouth-watering. So freaking delectable I couldn’t decide which—the more polished version from the hospital or the I-just-had-sex-and-threw-on-this-suit—I liked better.
“Thank you, so glad you noticed.” He grinned, completely unperturbed by my insult. Like he knew I hadn’t meant it, or if I did, he didn’t believe me or care.
So much for that upper hand.
&nbs
p; “Zara.” Nate moved to my side and gave me a hug. “Linc is right, you look beautiful.”
His touch was friendly without being sexual and strangely comforting. I wasn’t usually so trusting of people I didn’t know, but Nate had something about him that was immediately likeable and sincere. I bet he was an excellent doctor, able to give you bad news like you had a week to live and still make it sound half-decent. Which was probably why I’d lost my mind and agreed to the dinner in the first place.
That hypnotic calm and the allure of seeing Lincoln again.
The reasons why I wanted to see him were still up for debate, and I wasn’t even going to pretend that I wasn’t still attracted to him.
“Thanks, Nate.” I smiled, accepting his compliment and the hug. “I almost didn’t recognize you out of scrubs.”
I’d meant to tell him how handsome he was, how sexy he looked in civilian clothes, and all of that would’ve been the truth. But seeing him standing next to Lincoln made it hard for me to trust my mouth.
Nate was attractive.
Lincoln was ridiculously hot.
And since I wasn’t ready to volunteer that information, I thought it best to go with a safer option.
Nate winked, returning my smile with one of his own before he gestured to my seat. Both men waited until I was sitting before taking their own. It was a little old school but I could appreciate the manners, and knowing they were on their best behavior made it easier to be on mine.
Or so was the plan.
“So, Lincoln, any other women you’ve deceived in the last few days? I’m happy to start a support group if it’s needed.”
I’d lasted not even sixty seconds.
Partly because I genuinely couldn’t help myself but also because I was curious. If he’d left me and found a more willing candidate. It wouldn’t have been too hard, women probably throwing themselves at him every opportunity they got.
