Page 65 of Flirting with Trouble

“Okay, fine. I guess we’re more than friends, but don’t get carried away.”

He scoffs. “When do I ever get carried away? Look, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when Wells and I were negotiating. But honestly, your personal life has nothing to do with our partnership. Wells is a sharp businessman, and I have no doubt he’ll be a great business partner. He brought his restaurant back from the dead, and he did it grassroots style, which you know I respect.”

“How do you know he did it grassroots style?”

“Because I talked with him about it at the wedding, and then I researched him. He had a vision of how he wanted to build his business, and he wasn’t going to let anyone dissuade him. Instead of throwing money at it and buying the expertise he needed to make it work fast, he sought advice from people he trusted in order to learn along the way. That’s a guy who cares a hell of a lot about bettering himself and the business.”

“He told you that?” Why am I jealous that he knew that before I did?

“Yeah. He didn’t want to ask his father for advice, but Alexander Silver is a stellar businessman, so he did. He also asked his father’s cousins, three self-made billionaires. He wanted to see how their advice fit into his goals, not the other way around. He made mistakes early on and corrected them, and revised his plans to form a better path. Not many people have the wherewithal to do that and succeed at it. So, if you want to know why I told you not to go after him when I knew you’d do the opposite, it’s because looking at who he was beneath the surface was just like looking at you.”

Seth has only said something like that to me once before, and it was about Harvey. When my family was struggling with our age gap, Seth saw past it, and that unlocks something inside me.

“Vic? You still there?”

“Yeah, sorry. You’re right. Wells and I do have a lot in common.”

“I figured, since you stayed in Baltimore with him. Does that mean you skipped dinner at the tavern Friday night?”

It’s hard to admit, but I manage, “Mm-hm.”

“How about that,” he says with awe, and it’s not a question. “Does this mean we have to buy fish tanks for our restaurant?”

We both laugh.

We talk almost the whole ride home, and I tell him about our weekend. It feels good to share that happiness with Seth. I’m still reeling when I get up to my apartment.

I set my purse down, and as I walk into the living room, I’m hit with a pang of guilt. It’s strange to feel it after days of being free of it. I try to push it away, but as I look around at the lavish room, my eyes fall to Harvey’s candy dish full of Hershey’s Kisses beside the couch, taking that pang deeper.

The silence presses in on me.

Has it always been this quiet? It’s stifling. I feel like I can’t breathe.

Is this some new form of guilt? Maybe I’m just tired. A little music and fresh air will probably help. As I head for the terrace doors, I open the app on my phone that controls my home electronics and turn on a playlist. Music streams from the speakers as I step outside and fill my lungs with fresh air.

I lean on the railing, looking out at the lights of the city, thinking about how much fun I had with Wells. My phone chimes, and as if his ears were burning, Wells pops up in a message bubble, instantly bringing a smile.

Wells: I know you’re worried about me getting home safely, and you probably miss my face, so here you go.

A picture of him pops up, and I laugh softly.

Wells: Send me a pic so I know you weren’t kidnapped on the way home.

I take a selfie and send it to him.

Wells sends a voice message. I tap the play icon. “There you are. How is it possible that I miss you already?”

I get goose bumps, his deep voice wrapping around me like an embrace, and a kernel of missing him blooms in my chest. I lower myself to a lounge chair and gaze up at the starry sky, debating sending him a voice message back. It only takes a moment for me to decide to do it.

My pulse quickens as I record “There must be something going around, because I miss you, too.” I take another deep breath. My heart races as I send it to him, then quickly thumb out another text.

Me: Don’t let that go to your head or anything.

Wells: Too late.

A smiling emoji surrounded by hearts pops up.

A WordLink invitation appears, and I accept it.