by AJ Nuest
“Okay.” She squeezed his hand and climbed out.
The Jag’s engine revved, and gravel popped as Dibs pulled from the drive. The distance between them grew, her warm tears keeping pace with each stride of her feet toward the door.
Chapter Ten
The long, sleepless night finally over, Tessa tossed the covers from her legs and prepared to face a new day. Certain rules applied in cases like this, the most important to stay busy, keep her mind occupied. Do whatever was necessary to fill the hollow ache in her chest.
So, every few minutes, whenever thoughts of Dibs crossed her mind, she quickly shoved them aside, hoping sooner or later she would be able to block them entirely.
Dressed in jeans and a cream camisole, she added the cashmere sweater he had purchased their first day at the airport. Frivolous though it seemed, she wanted some part of him with her as she embarked into the future alone.
Still, her motions were sluggish. Her spark of energy had winked into nonexistence. And by the time she arrived at her office, the midmorning sun hung at half mast in the sky…the exact same height as the note Tiffany had left taped to the front door.
Anniversary reminder!
Tessa slumped. She had completely forgotten. She peeled the note off the large glass pane and crumpled it in her fingers. As one of the few perks of owning a business, she and Tiff could set their own holidays. Every year she and Kevin committed to spending the day they met together—no business, no phone calls. No distractions except each other…
A sharp pang of jealousy nailed Tessa right between the breasts, and she clenched her jaw until it passed. They were kidding themselves. No relationship lasted forever. Sooner or later, Tiffany and Kevin would both look back on this day with sad memories.
She entered her office and set straight to work on the BFG Event. Unfortunately, every time the Brenner name appeared, a visual of Dibs flashed in her mind, his low chuckle whispered past her ear. Trying to plot out the catering route over such a constant distraction soon became an exercise in futility. She finally gave up and opted for something less taxing, sat in the middle of the floor, and returned to the task of wrapping truffles for the Sandberg wedding.
As her hands made the same repetitive motions, the quiet afternoon fading to dusk, her thoughts drifted back to the plane ride she had shared with Dibs. Perhaps she’d made the wrong choice, agreeing to their friendship. In hindsight, her decision had been hasty. She’d opened her heart, and now payment was due.
But she couldn’t deny the past few days she’d spent with him had been wonderful. The way he listened to her talk about Michael, took care of her, and bought her all those beautiful flowers. Deep in the vessels of her heart, she just couldn’t regret their time together. To do as much would negate every kindness he’d shown her, and she would never begrudge him that.
The doorbell chimed and she jumped, slapping a hand over her racing heart. For God’s sake, why hadn’t she locked the door?
Adrenaline spiked in her stomach as Dibs crossed reception, a tray of coffees and a large white bag in his hands, the rolled newspaper tucked under one arm. Worn blue jeans encased his long legs, the pockets frayed and the thighs nearly white from use. A black leather jacket hung easy on his shoulders, framing a crisp white T-shirt and fitted, gray V-necked sweater through the unzipped front. He smiled. “Hey, Rex.”
She dropped the scissors and scrambled to her feet. “What are you doing here?”
“I thought we could have a quiet dinner tonight. Just the two of us.” He stopped in the doorway and surveyed the stacked boxes, the paper and ribbons strewn about the floor. “And from the looks of things, I made the right decision.”
She accepted the tray of coffees and jostled it onto her desk. Relief and frustration washed her in waves, quickly trailed by a needling irritation over how his mere presence in the room could make her so flustered.
“Hey, nice sweater.”
Her cheeks heated, and she quickly covered them with her palms.
“Did you see the weekend edition yet?” Amusement sparkled in his eyes as he pulled the newspaper from under his arm. “Page four, entertainment section.”
She stepped over some boxes to behind her desk and shuffled the paper until she located the right section. Splashed in the center of page four was a color photograph of the two of them entering the gallery—him smiling down at her while she laughed up at him. Her heart lurched. Based on those dopey grins, their affection for each other was completely evident. The caption read Philanthropist David Brenner and Tessa Adams of TNT Entertainment attend the annual Food for the Homeless Benefit in Chicago. Her stomach shriveled into a hard, tight ball.
“Well, what do you think?” He set the paper bag on her desktop.
“It’s nice.” She flipped the paper closed and tossed it aside.
A hint of uncertainty shadowed his brow. “What’s the matter? Are you mad at me or something?”
“No, no, I’m not mad.” He should go…things would be much easier if he just left.
“Well, I’m getting the distinct impression you’re upset.”
“I’m just surprised to see you, that’s all.” Especially since he’d never called. She assumed he’d made other plans for the evening.
Tantalizing aromas wafted from the white bag and her stomach complained in response. No lunch. She rounded her desk and tore open the stapled flap. “What did you bring?”
“Toasted subs.” Styrofoam squeaked as he worked a coffee from the tray.
One of the warm missiles in hand, she unwrapped the white paper, and crammed the end in her mouth. The mingled flavors of baked cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and Italian turkey exploded on her tongue. Oh, so yummy. She spoke around the crunchy bread. “I’ve gain four pounds since we met.”
He grunted, shrugging off his jacket, gathered the paper from her desk and settled into a chair. “I seriously doubt that.”
Apparently he was staying, regardless of any other responsibilities vying for his time. She plucked a napkin from the bag and reclaimed her spot on the floor. A slurp of coffee and one more bite of her sandwich, and she set the meal aside. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready for your trip?”
“I thought it might be nice to spend the evening together before I leave.” He pushed up the sleeves of his gray sweater, flipped open the financial section, and skimmed the front.
“How does one get to Botswana, anyway?”
“One charters a flight out of Midway airport.” The paper rattled as he shook it open in front of his face.
“What time is your flight?”
“Wheels up at ten.”
Silence settled between them and she resumed the tedious wrapping, and soon the gears in her brain chugged along at their own steady pace. Something wasn’t right. It was too quiet. And an underlying tension percolated in the air. Her eyes lost their focus, her fingers nimbly folding, and a visual of Dibs stuffing that business card into his pocket zeroed into sharp relief in her brain. She bounced the image around a bit, undecided if she should mention it. Perhaps if she approached the topic from the back end…
She waited until he turned the page before peeking at the opened newspaper, his face still hidden from view. “So, did they make any money at the event last night?”
“I heard some poor slob bought that sculpture you liked.”
“Oh, really? Who’s that?”
“Some hotshot. Personally, I think he’s a whack job.”
A corner of the wrapping paper split as she pressed it around a box. She slowly lifted her chin. “You didn’t.”
He folded the newspaper down, pokerfaced. He flipped it back up.
She frantically tried to recall the price. Had $32,000 been stamped under the title? More money than TNT made their first year in business. She lowered her gaze to the ruined wrapping paper and selected a new sheet. “Can I ask what you’re planning to do with it?”
“I thought it might make a nice gift for a friend of mine.”
&nbs
p; She snorted. “Must be some good friend.”
“Pretty good. Can be sort of a pain, though. Talks too much. Likes to drink.”
She arched a brow, choosing another box. Just exactly what game was he playing? “You sure this friend of yours would accept such an expensive gift?”
“One can only hope, Rex. Besides, it’s too late now. I can’t return it.”
Okay, fine. She was happy to go along with his little charade. “Seems to me anyone who would accept such a gift might be taking advantage of your generosity. You should really be more careful.”
“I’m confident this friend doesn’t care about my money. In fact, just the opposite. Her feathers get all ruffled whenever I try to pay.”
Tessa taped the paper and set the box aside. “You never know, Dibs. Nice guy like you, it would be real easy to pull a fast one.”
He turned the paper down, studying her from under his brows. “Be nice, Rex.” He shook the paper back up.
“I’m just saying, there are all types out there. You can never be too sure.”
“I’m sure.”
A disobedient smile curved the corners of her lips. “Well, either way, that sculpture is beautiful. I’m sure whoever receives it will absolutely love it.” She leaned over for another box. “Speaking of which…Did you call your new girlfriend yet?”
“What are you blathering on about now?”
“Did you just say ‘blather’? I don’t blather. I’m talking about your new girlfriend, from last night.”
He closed the edges of the paper and snapped it open. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“The woman at the bar, Dibs. She seemed…nice.”
“What woman at the bar?”
Oh, come on. Did he seriously need her to spell it out for him? “The woman who gave you her business card. Stop being obtuse.”
“Did you say ‘obtuse’? I’m not obtuse.”
As she placed the box in the done pile, a business card landed on the floor in front of her. She whipped her chin up.
“She was a three,” he said. “Not interested.”
A small flame kindled and lit in her heart. That’s why he was here. All this time…Dibs had been paying attention.
Her reaction was wrong on so many levels, but she simply couldn’t help it. Her heart stuttered and swelled with joy. She stood, shredded the business card into a million tiny pieces, and chucked them into her wastebasket.
She ransacked her drawer for another roll of tape before returning to the middle of the floor. “So, anything interesting happening in the financial pages?”
“I’m still rich.”
“I’m very happy for you.”
He folded and tossed the paper to the vacant chair, linked his hands behind his head, and lifted his heels to the edge of her desk. “Are you planning on working all night?”
“I need to make a serious dent in this pile or I’ll never have them done in time.” She crooked a finger for him to put his feet down and his shoes hit the floor. He sat forward, elbows on his knees, and tapped his toes.
“You’re driving me nuts.”
He stood and ambled around her office, picked up her desk clock and checked the time, ruffled a stack of file folders with his thumb. He strolled to the window and pushed one of the slats aside.
Nope. Something was still brewing. “You want to tell me what’s on your mind?” she asked.
He shrugged. “Nothing.”
“You get another invitation to something and want me to tag along?”
“No, no.”
He finally left the window, sat cross-legged opposite her on the floor, and pointed at the stack of boxes. “Okay, give me one.”
“You’re kidding, right?” She taped the paper, set the box aside.
“Come on. Let me try one.”
“Hey, knock yourself out.” She handed him a box and a piece of wrapping paper. This should be good…
The tip of his tongue poked from the corner of his lips while he carefully folded.
“You’re not doing it right,” she said.
“Why not?” Holding the paper tight, he taped the ends together.
She quickly taped her box, grabbed the one he had just wrapped and lined them up on the floor, side by side. “Can you see the difference?”
He glanced back and forth. “No.”
“Which is exactly why men don’t make good event planners.”
A grin lit his face. “Nothing is wrong with my box.”
Impossible. “You don’t see the difference.”
“They look identical to me.”
“Dibs!” she scolded, laughing and playfully slapping his shoulder. “It’s the paper, number five, the paper. Look!”
He leaned over, examining the boxes, suddenly lifted his chin and locked onto her eyes…his brimming with mischief and happy shine.
She sharply inhaled. Only a few scant inches separated their lips. A simple tip of her head and she could drink in the heady taste of him, delve inside and rediscover the smooth texture of his tongue.
“Are you telling me I turned the paper the other way, and that’s what all this fuss is about?”
What was she ever going to do? He was so sweet, the thought of letting him go was like a hot knife in her chest. “Yes,” she whispered.
Mirth danced along his mouth. And then, his smile slowly faded as understanding shimmered through his gaze. The distance between them gradually dwindled, and she stayed very, very still as he tilted his head and lightly touched his lips to hers.
Her eyelids fluttered closed. His warm breath bathed her cheek. His fingers twined through the hair at the nape of her neck and brought her forward. Slow and smooth, his lips caressed, sweeping back and forth across hers. The tip of his tongue flicked and teased a delicate trail along the seam of her mouth.
A thrill raced into her belly, and she turned out of his grasp. “Stop.”
“I’m sorry.” He quickly withdrew.
“It’s all right.” She fisted her hands on her knees, fighting the intense longing to tackle him on the spot and take him down to the floor.
“No, I’m sorry.” He stood and collected his coat from the back of the chair. “I should go.”
“I’m just really—”
“No.” He held up his hand. “It was my fault. I’m sorry.”
He stopped in the threshold, spun around, and tugged a set of keys from his pocket. “For the car.” They landed with a chink on top of her desk. “It’s parked downstairs.”
He turned and disappeared into reception.
She sprang to her feet and rushed for the doorway. “Hey.”
He paused at the front door, his head lowered.
“Be careful out there, okay?”
He nodded and shoved into the hallway.
Tessa crossed to the window, her hand pressed to the cold glass when Dibs appeared on the sidewalk. She remained riveted to his form as he stalked away, shoulders hunched, until he faded into the distance.
****
Crawling into bed was simply moronic. Sleep would never come. Not when every time she closed her eyes the tender brush of Dibs’s kiss whispered across her lips. Not when she shivered with the memory of his hand in her hair all while that same intense thrill heated her skin.
She tossed and turned before finally throwing the covers off her legs. Pacing before her living room windows, the blanket from the couch wrapped around her shoulders, she searched the dark Chicago skyline for answers. When none were forthcoming, she pried open the lid on the chocolate-chip cookie dough ice cream and spooned huge chunks into her mouth, gliding slowly down the front of the refrigerator to the floor.
Denying the obvious was no longer an option. She was completely infatuated with Dibs.
Spending so much time with him had been a huge mistake. How could she have been so incredibly naïve? What was she, thirteen? She had purposely balanced her heart on the edge of a very sharp knife, and now no matter what move she made ev
erything would end in disaster.
And yet, there was that damn kiss…
Her heart raced while she pounded her palm against her forehead. She had made promises, dammit! Sworn to never gamble with love again. Relationships ended in hurt. She knew this. They ended in tears, anger, and the horrible realization that love was nothing but a lie. To even consider enduring such torment again was inconceivable. How could she knowingly tread down such an excruciating path?
The clock on the wall had crept to four in the morning by the time she stumbled back into bed, no closer to making a decision than when she’d climbed out. But at least she had a week to consider her next move. Perhaps with half a world between them, her feelings would fade with time like they always did.
She finally succumbed to a restless sleep, until her alarm woke her at six.
When she arrived at the office, Tiffany glanced up from behind her desk and waved her forward.
“Working another Saturday?” Tessa leaned against the doorway. God, what she wouldn’t give for just a few precious moments of sleep.
“I’ve gotta get the cost-estimate analysis to BFG by Monday.” Tiffany swiveled to her computer and clicked something into the keyboard. “I saw your picture in the paper, and I gotta say, you and Dibs are just too damn cute together.”
A tear welled in Tessa’s eye. He’d been so pleased to show her that picture…until she’d all but squashed his happiness like some hairy, eight-legged spider.
“And speaking of which, the phone hasn’t stopped ringing all morning. I guess the entertainment section is the right place to—”
Tessa met Tiffany’s eyes.
She slumped. “Oh no, what happened?”
A trudge into Tiffany’s office and a flop onto a chair, and Tessa related all the sordid details, finishing with how she’d spent the last two nights lying wide awake in bed. By the time she was done, her arms were crossed on the edge of the desk, her forehead balanced on her wrists.
“You need to get in his car and drive to the airport,” Tiffany said quietly. “Right now.”
Tessa braced her forehead in her hand. “How can I do that, Tiff? How can I go to the airport? I’m the one who insisted we remain friends, remember? I’m the one who said over and again that relationships never work. I would make a complete fool of myself.”
