After the meeting ended, I started to think that maybe I wasn’t the type of person who could balance both a relationship and a successful career. Because if this was how adult Elizabeth behaved, it wasn’t going to work.
What happened today could never happen again. Who daydreamed about shower sex in the middle of a presentation with the head of the studio? Then again, who wouldn’t daydream about shower sex with Daniel Alexander?
No.
Damn it.
This was the exact problem and issue I’d always wanted to avoid in my life. I needed to refocus.
As I neared Barbara’s desk, her face lit up. “Daniel called. He wanted you to know he misses you.”
My heart fluttered with her words, causing my body to declare war on itself. It was officially on—heart versus brain.
I tried to keep a straight face, acting like I wasn’t affected. “Anyone else?”
“Ben and someone named Kate. She left her number. She sounded odd.”
My breath stammered. “Kate?”
“Yeah, who is she?”
“Ben’s sister,” I said, wondering why in the world Kate was calling me at my place of employment.
“The one Daniel—” Barbara practically shouted.
I cut her off, holding one hand in the air, “Don’t say it, but yes.”
“Well, that’s weird, right?”
“Very.” I turned into my office.
I placed my notes on my desk and stared at the call log online. Why the hell had Kate called me? And why wouldn’t Ben stop?
Pulling my cell phone out of my purse, I noticed a text from Daniel.
It’s ridiculous how much I miss you.
I stared at it for a full minute before deciding not to respond. For whatever reason, I held Daniel at fault for my daydreaming this morning, and I was pissed at him for it. I wanted someone to blame, and I refused to blame myself.
After putting away my cell, I dialed Ben’s number from my office phone and massaged my temples as it rang.
“Elizabeth, babe!” he shouted into the phone.
“Dear God, I’m not your babe. What do you need, Ben?”
“Aw, don’t be like that. I told you the other night that I thought we should grab dinner. I’d like to see you, for old times’ sake. Please. I want to talk to you about some things.” His voice took on a tone that I hadn’t heard in years. It was the same way he used to talk to me when we’d dated in college and he’d wanted to get his way on something. He sounded like a child, and I wondered how I’d ever found that stupid tone endearing.
“What things exactly?” I pressed, unsure of where he was headed.
“Come on, Elizabeth. Just have dinner with me.”
“I really can’t. I don’t have time. I’m under a production deadline, and I’m going to be at the office late for the next few weeks.”
“I can come there then. For lunch? How about today?”
“Today?” I practically choked on the word as it left my mouth.
“Or tomorrow,” he said.