I don’t want to lie to Lily, but this is her birthday. I’m not about to ruin it by admitting that I was wrong, and Asher does, in fact, have feelings for me.
“Work stuff. I’ll tell you about it next Taco Tuesday.”
She bobs her head, grimacing. “I need to go home. My head hurts.”
“You’re leaving?” Asher asks, walking up behind us.
“Birthday girl is out,” I explain. “Can you make sure she gets home? I have an early day tomorrow.”
“Sure.” He shrugs.
I grab my purse and stand to leave, eager to escape before anything can get weird. Asher’s hand darts out, grabbing my arm.
I freeze, sending a prayer up to heaven that he doesn’t go where I’m afraid he’s going.
“Can we talk? Like tomorrow night, maybe?”
This needs to happen sooner rather than later. It can’t be avoided.
I take a deep breath. “Yeah. We can plan on it for now.”
Tomorrow night, I’ll have to break my best friend’s heart.
Shit.
* * *
The next morning,I’m entrenched with phone calls and meetings with our client about how the launch project is going. I barely remember to come up for air at noon and head to the break room for some much-needed caffeine. I successfully pour myself a coffee without spilling it and turn around to see Charles in the doorway.
“Look at you mastering client relations and coffee pouring. Too bad the latter is not available for an increase in salary, Ms. Bennett.”
“You know, it’s weird. For such a picky-ass Brit, you are funny at times.”
“Picky? Well, I have been called worse.”
“What’s your day been like? Mine has been too busy, and I’m ready for a bottle of wine at home tonight.”
Ducking out the door to make sure no one is listening, he leans closer and whispers, “Any chance you would want company with that wine?”
“Are you saying you want to come over, Mr. Cavendish? Is there a project you would like to work on?”
“Very much so. I think there are sheets and sheets of data analytics to pore over, don’t you?”
“Data. Hmmm. Not the D-word I was thinking of...” I trail off as I look at the lust building in his blue eyes. “I’ll text you my home address and see you tonight. Around say eight?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely,” he says with a wink as he turns and walks away.
A wink.
God help me. I’m going to lose my heart over a wink.
Ten minutes to eight and I can’t stop fussing. I keep looking in the mirror to make sure I look okay, and I spend an unnecessary amount of time cleaning the apartment. Anything to keep me preoccupied while this nervous energy practically chokes me.
“Hello, love,” Charles says when I open the door. He leans in and kisses me, handing me a big bunch of white hydrangeas.
“Oh, you are very good at this whole buttering me up thing,” I say and go to put the flowers in a vase.
“You look beautiful,” he says, smiling down at me before his eyes wander around the room. “Nice place.”