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Her laugh lifted something heavy off my shoulders. I took my phone out of my pocket to shoot Hugh a quick text, but before I started typing, I saw his response to my earlier one.
Hugh
You’re there? With Abby? In Newark?
Oscar
Yes. And I got her to laugh. So you can relax. She’s already trying to set us up on a date.
I slipped the phone back into my pocket and glanced back up at her. Her expression was tender and a little too knowing.
“You like him,” she accused gently.
“Very much.” I held up my hand. “But not like that. We’re just friends.”
Okay, so that was clearly a blatant lie. I liked him like that. I really liked him like that. But I knew it was a bad bet. I was no one’s Prince Charming, and I had a long line of exes to prove it.
“Why do you say that? Hugh’s good-looking and kind.”
I finally reached out to take her hand. “Abby, I couldn’t agree more. But I’m not happy ever after material, and Hugh knows that. Just friends.”
I heard a slight intake of breath and turned. Hugh stood in the doorway, his eyes glancing past me to Abby.
“Very good friends,” Hugh added. After making sure Abby wasn’t more injured than he’d expected, he held out his hand to me.
I stared at it.
I wanted to pull him against me, bury my nose in his neck, and inhale his scent again. I wanted to thread my fingers through his curls, tilt his head back, and hear his breathy gasp before I brushed my lips against his. I wanted to taste him and touch him and reach across the bed in the morning to caress his sleep-warmed back. I wanted to see him smile in the sunshine and feel the little hop-skip of my heart when I glimpsed his adorably crooked canine.
I wanted to tell his sister it had all been a big, fat lie.
Instead, I forced a smile and took his hand. “The best,” I agreed.
Then I made my goodbyes and left before I could change my mind.
* * *
“Peter says he can’t possibly get a prototype until…” Lesya sat in the chair across from the desk in my office, consulting her tablet. “The third week of May.”
I snorted. “Tell Peter to try again. This is the third delay in as many months, with no solid explanation. I could get out my Popsicle sticks and craft glue and come up with a prototype in half that time. If they want our investment, they can prioritize our request.”
Lesya grinned and typed on her screen before finishing with a flourish. “Done. I omitted the part about the Popsicle sticks. You’ll thank me later.”
“Probably,” I agreed. “Is that everything on the list for today?”
“Uh, no, not even half the things.” She shook her head indulgently. “What’s up with you this week, Captain Distraction? It’s like you’ve caught spring fever early.”
“Nonsense.” I resisted the urge to squirm in my seat. “As I told you yesterday and the day before, I don’t get distracted.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’m known for my laser-like focus. I built this company thanks to that focus.”
“Sure.”
“Besides, spring is obviously a million years away.” I gestured out the window, where a chilly drizzle fell on the winter-naked trees in the roof garden across the street. “Continue. What’s next on the agenda?”
“Mitch sent over an update on the Donaldson portfolio. I forwarded it to you since I know you’ll want to read it yourself, but things look good. He took care of that snag with the company down in Miami…”
