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“Jake thought you could help me market the application of my compatibility research. That’s why he arranged for us tomeet.”
Cue the recordscratch.
She’s looking at me as if I’ve grown another head, and I have the same awkward feeling as when I realized as a first-year grad student during my first presentation at the national conference for genetic epidemiologists that I’d forgotten to control for exposure to a known environmental toxin in my GWASstudy.
I reach up to rub a hand over my suddenly hot neck. “Didn’t he tell youthat?”
She clears her throat. “Not so much. Although I might’ve been multitasking when he called… I thought you were friends fromBaden.”
“I didn’t go to Baden. I teach there. I met Jake at an alum mixer this summer when I joined thefaculty.”
Something tells me this just got worse, though I can’t pinpoint why, and feeling as if I only have partial information is starting to piss meoff.
“You’re a teacher at Baden,” she echoes, then squeezes her eyes shut. “This isperfect. My mother’s right. I can’t even... oh my God.” Rena’s hands shove through her hair, and for a moment I’m distracted by itagain.
This awkward moment is interrupted when our waiter comes down the hall, looking between us. “Are you finished yourmeal?”
“No,” I say firmly, even as she insists, “Yes.”
He bustles off, and by the time I turn back, she’s shouldering her bag and turning for thedoor.
I touch her wrist. “Rena,wait.”
I’m startled by the little buzz along my skin even before she turnsback.
“Thank you for dinner. And I’m sorry about themisunderstanding.”
Misunderstanding?
There’s no way that explains what went down and the only thing bugging me more that the fact that the woman who kissed me is looking at me in abject horror is that I have no idea what thehellis goingon.
But before I can challenge her, she trots for the door, her hair swinging behindher.
She’s gone before I realize this is the first time I’ve felt something other than numb forweeks.
* * *
“Shit,Robinson. You sure your old man was a librarian?” Jake demands as he absorbs my righthook.
“You don’t hit like yours was in the jewelrybusiness.”
“He wasn’t. My father ran an auction house.Three.”
I throw two jabs and a cross, cushioned by the pads he’sholding.
I never pictured myself boxing, but I need the friends and the workout. This particular friend likes to shadowbox and spar at this members-only club. Which is why I’m here, throwing punches while Jake holds the focus mitts, an unhealthy amount of adrenaline dosing my brain and body in pulsingwaves.
“Twenty years,” Jake continues. “Best in New York. Lost it on account of his best friend turned rival.” He lowers the pads and picks up his water bottle, sweat running down his lean face and sharp nose. “But there’s a way we can still end up on top. If my brothers would play ball, which isn’t happening because Aiden’s too busy painting and Liam’s God knowswhere.”
He sets the water down and resumes his position. My shoulders are aching, but I don’t mind ittoday.
I’m not sure why I’ve been working out with him twice a week all summer except that seeing my father deteriorating in bed for three months, I needed a physical outlet. I think Jake knew ittoo.
When I met Jake during my first orientation event at the private high school, he insisted I join him at the club as hisguest.
I’d balked at first—I was here for my father, not to make friends—but I realized that even though my professional and family life had gone to shit, I could control my physicalshape.
What I didn’t expect was to respect the man. He might run a jewelry company, whereas I’ve never set foot in a jewelry store in my life, but we have more in common than I could’veguessed.
