Page 5

“Any response yet on the temporary restraining order?”

“Not yet, but it may take a few weeks. The court’s been backed up lately. I’m keeping a close eye on it. You look nice.”

She jerked back, her gaze full of that wary suspicion that gutted him. Once her soul had been cracked open. Now she barely glanced at him, choosing to distance herself in every way possible. It had only been a few days working in her office, but he already knew how she planned to play the long game. She was focusing only on the work and shut down any effort at personal conversation. She grabbed every opportunity to leave the room, stand apart from him, or rely on email rather than dialogue. The brick wall between them seemed unscalable. He needed to begin chipping it away piece by piece if he’d ever have a chance to re-connect. “Thanks.”

“Going to a fundraiser?” he asked, keeping his tone easy. He noted her sleek long skirt that hugged her curves, and the yellow cotton blouse that hugged her shoulders, leaving all that gorgeous olive skin bare. Her hair had been pinned up, a few dark strands caressing her cheeks, leaving her nape exposed. She’d always been tall at about five nine, but with strappy, high heeled sandals, she reached his height, her gaze level with his, as if she’d needed the extra confidence to face him.

“No.” He waited, but she seemed done. As the governor’s daughter, her social calendar was pretty booked, and the press loved to follow her around, speculating on her new love interest or charity. He’d come back just in time. The magazine dubbing her Bachelorette of NYC would bring out hordes of suitors, desperate to date her. It didn’t hurt she was young, single, and gorgeous, with a vibrant personality that popped on camera.

It had been another reason he’d decided to flee. One day, maybe he’d be able to explain so she understood.

Owen nodded in the following silence that seemed to ripple with undercurrents of tension. “I see. Good talk.”

She spun on her heel, blue eyes shooting sparks of temper. “I have a date, okay? Not that it’s any of your business. In fact, unless it pertains to the case, I don’t think we really need to chat.”

He pretended the breath hadn’t been knocked out of him. Of course she was seeing someone. He just hoped it wasn’t serious yet. “Chloe, I’m going to be here for a while. Can’t we make a truce? You have every damn right to be pissed at me. Do you think I just happily moved on with my life without thinking about you and what I did to us?” Frustration tinged his tone. “I hoped with a bit of time, we’d be able to talk. I want to explain some things.”

Sadness flickered over her features. Automatically, he rose from the chair and stepped forward to take her in his arms, wanting to give comfort, then stopped. Her voice was a soft whisper of sound, a caress to his ears and skin, light as gossamer. “It’s not about anger anymore. It’s about you wanting to step back into my life when you no longer know who I am. It’s about you thinking a good explanation can wipe away the pain, even if I don’t have a right to question why you wanted to leave. Because I realized I don’t have that right, Owen. You shouldn’t have to apologize to me for going after your dreams, even if I wasn’t one of them. I mean, look at you.” She lifted her arms, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “You’re a lawyer for an important organization at only twenty-six. You made it. And I’m so damn proud.” Her lower lip quivered, then she pulled herself to full height, a calm settling over her. “I just don’t want to talk about the past, or rehash all the things that led us here. Did you ever see the movie LaLa Land?”

He blinked, then shook his head. “No.”

“Let’s just say they both made choices that put them on different paths. They may not have ended up together, but they were happy. It was just an alternate vision than what could have been. Like us.”

“Well, I hate that ending,” he said. “It sucks.”

Genuine laughter flashed in those baby blues, then faded. “Yeah, but it’s real. I’ll agree to stop treating you like a leper, but I don’t want to be friends. That’s my truth, and I hope you respect it. I’ve got to go. Text me with any issues. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She left to go meet another man.

And she didn’t look back.

Dinner was perfect.

Drew took her to Felice, an intimate Italian restaurant that was a favorite of hers and her father’s. She knew the places to dine when she wanted to court the press, and the haunts when she craved a bit of privacy.

Drew kept their dialogue fun and easy through the first course, his All American looks easy on the gaze. Now that Vivian called up images of Chris Evans, Chloe realized her friend was right. With his clean-cut blonde hair, dreamy eyes, and chiseled figure, he was a man who was comfortable and confident around women. He owned a successful finance business and set up a foundation to give to various not-for-profits. She wondered if he’d ever been awkward when he was young, or unsure of his future. Or followed a girl around with his heart in his eyes, not caring if he got hurt because she was worth it.

Stop thinking about Owen.

Chloe reached for her wine glass and took a sip. It was an expensive, hearty red that blended with her eggplant dish, bringing out layers of blackberry and currant flavors. It had taken her a while to begin liking wine, but now she appreciated a good pour, finding it a solid subject to make a connection with strangers. It had served her well at many parties, able to smoothly transition into talking about her charity once a proper bond had formed.

Drew gave her an easy smile, his hand reaching across to tangle with hers. “I’m glad you were able to come out tonight,” he said. “I always termed myself a workaholic until I met you.”

She laughed and returned the pressure of his hand. His grip was solid, his hand practically dwarfing hers as if swallowing it whole. She reminded herself it was a feeling of safety rather than control. “Sorry, we got a new case to work on. Hoarding and abuse. The owner escaped prosecution so we’re deep into the civil suit. Have to make sure those animals stay safe, and they don’t find a new place and start over again.”

His face turned sympathetic. “That’s awful. I sped up your application for Advocates for Animals so hopefully a decision can be made sooner on the amount we can give.”

Unease curled in her stomach. “Drew, I don’t want to use our relationship for any unfair advantage. I told you that—I want a fair and equal shot at being one of your foundation picks.”

He grinned, flashing shiny white teeth. “Don’t worry, everything is above board. Now let’s switch to more pleasant subjects. I think you need a break from all the drama in your world. How’s your father?”

She shifted in her seat and tamped down the irritation at how easily he was able to disconnect from issues that were passionate for her. Still, he was a finance guy, and one who dedicated his money to many different causes. She couldn’t expect him to share all of her views on animal rescue. “Good. He’s been embroiled in words with the President again, but he knows how to smooth things over when needed. Alyssa helps balance him.”

“That’s what a good woman does. I consider my mother the reason for my success. She always supported me, knew how to push, and taught me the value of ethics in today’s world.”

“That’s so nice,” she murmured, liking the way he spoke of his mom. “What about your dad?”

He wrinkled his nose. “Not so much. They’re divorced, but I take good care of her. Give her anything she needs. It’s another reason I connected with you right away. Your close relationship with your dad showed me you have a real sense of family values. I need that in my life.”