“Wait a minute,” Ella set down her sparkling water, “how do you know which way I—”
“Plus—her great aunt is actually Robin Campbell. As in, famed New York Times journalist, Robin Campbell.”
It was a massive point in my favor. Although, to be fair, it was also something I’d found out only after scheduling the meeting.
Ella fiddled with her straw, pouting because I was the one talking. “We don’t really talk to that side of the fam—”
“So you see?” I locked eyes with Nick across the table. “She’s just about perfect.”
On paper. In real life, she was probably classified as some kind of sexual predator.
Ella giggled and blushed, throwing me a ‘thanks for talking me up’ wink, before turning to bat her eyes at Nick some more. “I guess it looks that way, doesn’t it?”
But Nick only had eyes for me. In fact, the longer we stared at each other, the harder we found it to stop. But the longer we stared, the more it looked like he was starting to understand.
A dawning glimmer of realization started dancing in his eyes, and for the first time since he’d been groped in front of those Japanese tourists, his lips curved up in a genuine smile.
“She is perfect, isn’t she?” His sparkling eyes never left my face. “For the company.”
...but not so perfect for me.
My face blanched as every single bone in my body locked into place.
Yep—he’d come to the exact same conclusion I’d come to myself, plotting on my bed just a night before. The burning question of why, was still completely beyond me. Why the hell I’d want to create the distinction. But at this point, it hardly mattered.
I’d been found out. Outed. Finished. All my scheming and trickery exposed for all the world to see. Nick knew the truth. It was written all over his face. There was no way in hell I would have actually selected this kind of girl for him. This kind of girl wasn’t fit for anybody.
But maybe...just maybe I could somehow manage to deflect some of the blame.
“It’s always such a...a treat when you read about someone on paper, but then get to know the real thing.” I laughed lightly. “Ella’s so...vivacious in person. I really had no idea—”
“Oh, don’t be so modest. You must have had some idea.” Nick leaned forward, suddenly enjoying himself. Without missing a beat, he reached over and took Ella’s hand. “Otherwise, I can’t think of a single reason why you would have pulled dear Ella’s name out of the hat.”
Those eyes of his held me hostage. Like a mouse staring up at a cat. Unable to move.
“Tell me, Abby,” he demanded with a wicked grin, “is she everything you hoped for?”
I winced apologetically and struggled to find something to say. He was just toying with me now. Letting me stew in whatever catastrophes had yet to come.
“She’s...certainly something.”
“You know, that’s always been Abby’s problem.” He raised up Ella’s fingers and kissed her across the knuckles, grinning at me over the top of her hand. “So secretive. So guarded. You never know what’s going on inside that demented little head.”
All my red flags shot up at once, waving around frantically to get my attention.
Something terrible was about to happen. I just didn’t know exactly what...
Nick, please. I’m sorry, okay. Let’s just go. Leave the crazy behind, and go.
I sent the message telepathically with my eyes, but even though he knew exactly what I was thinking, he wasn’t letting me off the hook so easily. Instead, he straightened up with an anticipatory smile—still holding onto Ella’s clawed hand.
As for Ella herself, she seemed completely unaware of the fact that the two of us had been having a completely different conversation this entire time. The entire time we’d been talking, her head had bounced back and forth like a tennis match—latching onto random words and out of context phrases. Mostly, she was just thrilled that Nick was holding her hand.
“Well—aren’t the two of you just so sweet,” she drawled, clearly thrilled that we’d all gotten on the same page. “Who’s up for some squid?!”
And...that’s my limit.
“Actually, Ms. Campbell, these meetings are usually a bit more formal than that,” I said quickly, making a grand show of bustling around to gather up my purse. If Nick wasn’t going to end this train wreck, I’d have to do it myself. “Just drinks and chit-chat—you know the drill.”