Does he honestly think we’ll be texting and calling each other? “You’re the one who followed me here. And didn’t you get my number too?”
“Yeah. So next time we can do that email thing you mentioned, like civilized people.” He pops a can of icy-cold Coke and hands it to me. “Here.”
I take it automatically, then stare at it like it’s a coiled snake. “Where did you get this?”
“The minibar.” He gives me a slightly indulgent look that says he’s not going to rag on me because I’m obviously sick. “Want me to call for ice?”
I cringe. “You know this Coke isn’t worth the twenty bucks th
e hotel will charge, right?”
“It is now.” He places a few bills on the dresser, then takes a chair by the bed. “There. I’m paying.”
“But—”
“Coke is a cure-all for stomach issues.”
I give him a dubious look. “Right, Mr. I Read Florence Nightingale’s Biography.”
“Don’t knock it. It’s got a lot of useful information.”
“Yeah? Like what?”
“Like how patients should just do as their nurses say without any back talk.” He points at the can. “Now drink, before it gets warm.”
I take a sip. It’s surprisingly refreshing. Without intending to, I down more than half fairly quickly. “Anyway, you don’t have to pay for it,” I say.
“I insist. It’s up to the nurse to provide what the patient needs.”
“So you can bill me a hundred bucks for it?”
“I would never try to wrangle compensation.” A wicked gleam sparks in his eyes. “Not money, anyway.”
His brilliant smile tells me everything I need to know about what he wants. And the problem is that it’s too damn tempting, like a Garden of Eden apple. But I remind myself of the big picture I have for my life. I can’t give that up for some momentary fun. “Look, Court, I’m flattered by your…” I search for an adequate word. Stalking, obsession and insanity are probably not what I should go for here. “Your, uh, interest…and determination…but really, it isn’t going to work. I’m not dating anybody anyway.”
“Really?” He arches his eyebrows. “Explain, because I’m lost.”
I don’t think I said anything too esoteric. “What I mean is, I’m not interested in a relationship.”
“Ever?” He leans closer, his gaze turning quite intense. “Were you secretly hoping to land that Joe guy yourself?”
The damned Coke goes down the wrong way. I cough and sputter. “No! What are you… You’re crazy.” I snatch the Kleenex from Court’s hand and wipe the tears in the corners of my eyes. “I’ve never felt a thing for him.”
“So why the relationship embargo?”
“Look, I’m up for a big promotion this year,” I say.
“Congratulations.”
“Thanks. Anyway, I can’t jeopardize it by dating. I’ve been a junior analyst for four years at my company. I have to get promoted this year or my career is finished. Nobody stays a junior analyst unless they’re dumber than a fruit fly.”
His blank expression says he doesn’t really get it. But he nods anyway. “In that case, I hope you get it. But I don’t understand what that has to do with…” He moves his index fingers between us like a swing.
“Nobody at the firm who moved up from my level was in a relationship at the time of promotion.”
He scoffs, which raises my hackles. It reminds me of the way Curie looked at me like I’d lost it when I told her.
“It’s true.”