Just Friends - Page 8

Parvati!

Zack!

What kind of conspiracy? Seriously!

Rachel had no idea how to respond. Other than blocking his number.

Then again… this was the really hot guy, right?

She didn’t like to admit it, but the fact that Zack was hot changed a few things. I would never, ever admit that out loud. Rachel would lose her feminism card. Or she would have, had it not been lost in the mail first.

This guy was relentless, though. First he sat down at her table, demanding that she go out with him. Now he had strong-armed her number out of Parvati, to ask her to be… friends? What was his game, really? And why her? What the hell was so special – or unlucky, honestly – about Rachel Taylor that she was picked for this handsome man’s play?

She tapped a response out, read it, and finally sent it.

“I vaguely recall you. Why are you texting me?”

Zack responded a few minutes later. By then, Rachel was fully situated at her desk, lasagna cooling – and ants amassing to take it over if she wasn’t careful.

“Because I want to be your friend.”

“Sounds fake, creeper.”

“I’m serious! Hey, you said we could be friends, didn’t you?”

“You’re. Creepy.”

Her phone rang.

“What don’t you understand about being creepy?” She really answered?

“Come on.” That smooth, panty-ripping voice was a tone that Rachel was not prepared for. “One friend date. You pick the place, I’ll pick the activity.”

“How is that any different from a real date?”

“Because I’m not trying to get into your pants.”

Rachel furrowed her brows. “You’re friendzoning yourself?”

“Excuse you, I have it on good authority that there is no such thing as the friendzone.”

“I…”

“Let’s get to know each other. See where it goes from there. No pressure.”

Rachel looked at her reflection in her computer monitor. “There’s no such thing as no pressure in interpersonal relationships, Mr. Feldstein.”

“Feldman. Jeez. Why do you keep calling me Feldstein?”

“Why are you so antsy about being called Feldstein?”

Zack let a pause commence before finally responding. “Do something with me tomorrow, and I’ll tell you. A friendly secret between new friends.”

Rachel had no idea what she was doing when she finally agreed to go out with him.

***

A park seemed safe enough. A big, public park packed with families enjoying summer vacation and dogs that may or may not have had masters on the other ends of their leashes.

Rachel picked this place because it wasn’t too far from Opal’s, in case she needed to go running to her best friend for help. It was also along six different bus routes… and enough restaurants that would make for a great dinner, should this stupid excuse of a “friend” date go well. That assumed a lot, however.

This is one of the dumbest things I’ve ever agreed to. Rachel stood on the perimeter of the park, dressed in knee-length denim shorts and a plain black T-shirt. Hey, this wasn’t a date, right? Why would she dress up like she was going on a date? Sex was not on the table. Nor was Rachel inviting Zack to look at her like men were wont to do. Unless he’s really into the androgynous look, I guess. Rachel had pulled her hair back into another utilitarian ponytail. She knew she looked a mess, but in the mountain heat of mid-June, she didn’t give a shit.

Until she saw Zack already waiting for her beneath one of the trees, anyway.

He was not dressed for a typical date, either. He actually looked much the same as he had the previous two times they met: cargo shorts, thick black sandals, and a loose khaki overshirt that only accentuated the white tank top beneath. Accentuated. Yes. That’s the word I’m looking for. Because it was rather difficult to not look at anything except those abs outlined beneath white cotton.

Great. Good to know she was still attracted to him. With any luck, however, this charade would soon be finished and Rachel could go back to her regularly-scheduled spinster life.

Then the man spotted her, with a flash of a dazzling white smile.

Rachel stopped halfway to him, pulling out the earbud playing an old Japanese pop song into her head. Synth beats and squeaky vocals were replaced with the rumbles of the city and the wild thumping of Rachel’s heart.

And the sound of Zack’s voice calling to her.

“Over here!” He gestured with come-hither fingers. “Check it out! Managed to score a good spot! Had to fight a couple of guys and their dog off, but… eh, not bad, if I do say so.”

Rachel took another step forward. It was only then she noticed the picnic basket nestled nicely in the green grass.

“A picnic.” She shoved her phone into her bag. “That’s what you decided we would do?”

Zack shrugged. Rachel was in no hurry to sit down in the empty spot next to him. “Not much else to do in a park when it’s already crowded with five million people. Besides!” He opened his arms wide. “This is only the beginning. Load up on food, then… well, we’ll see where things take us.”

Rachel still wouldn’t sit down. “This isn’t a date.”

“I didn’t say it was?”

She stood back, arms crossed protectively on her chest, as if Zack were another guy looking to get his hands on her breasts. He might as well have been right now. Even though Rachel was a lot more likely to divebomb toward his chest. Girl, knock it off. See? This is why we’ve decided to be celibate for the rest of the summer. No dating. No excessive flirting. And definitely no sex! Her only partner was the toy in the bottom of her nightstand drawer.

“You want to have a picnic with me in the park?”

“This has been established, yes.”

“But why?”

The frown crowning Zack’s face only made his large sunglasses and the stubble on his jaw stick out. A lot. I’m doomed. “Because I want to be your friend.”

“You’re serious?”

“No, Rachel, this is all a rouse to prank you. Or get into your pants. Your pick. Either way, I’m a total asshole, aren’t I?”

“That’s not fair. You don’t get to cut me off in both directions.”

“I haven’t just cut you off. I’ve parked my car and am refusing to budge until you hear me out in the middle of the street.”

That’s one way to put it, I guess. Rachel lowered herself to the ground, close enough to hear him, but far enough away that she could make a break for it if she needed to.

It wasn’t that she felt wary around Zack. He didn’t pique her danger-meter, nor did he disgust her. Would she have agreed to this if he had? Then why was she so hesitant to get close to him, to hear him out, to give him a chance to even be her friend?

Because this is weird!

Nobody did this in the year 2017. Friendships – let alone man-woman ones – didn’t start because a man decided he’d rather be a woman’s friend than never see her again. After she had turned him down for a date, too! It made no sense. A man as handsome and seemingly well off as Zack had no reason to keep talking to her after she turned him down for a date. He should have easily moved on to the next woman who struck his fancy.

Something didn’t smell right. Rachel wasn’t sure what his end game still was, and that bothered her.

Still… he was hot. And charismatic. And he had brought her free food.

They were in public, right? Lots of escape routes. Parvati wasn’t too far away. What did Rachel have to lose, aside from some of her time?

“Finally, she joins me.” Zack leaned against the tree. “You’re a difficult woman to get out of her house.”

“Not really.” Rachel kept her bag close. “I go out every day.”

Zack opened the picnic basket. Freshly cut apple slices and a pair of turkey on croissant sandwiches appeared, each delicately wrapped in an easy-to-remove bag. They looked homemade. There was no way this guy had gone out of his way to make fancy sandwiches for their supposed friend date. “Doing what, exactly?” Zack handed her one of the sandwiches.

Rachel didn’t hold much hope that she would want to eat it. Turkey on croissant was a gift from god, but only if she was allowed to order it. Rachel wasn’t proud to say it, but she was a picky eater, and shit like mayo… wait, where was the mayo? And the onions? And the vinegar? And the other terrible stuff people put on sandwiches because they were convinced everyone wanted them?

“This sandwich is… perfect?” Turkey. Lettuce. Fresh, melted Swiss cheese. Nothing else. None of those gross condiments at all!

“I took the liberty of asking your friend how you like your sandwiches.”

Parvati! Whose side was she on?

“You haven’t answered my question, by the way.”

Rachel looked up from the sandwich she was afraid to eat. “What’s that?”

“What do you do? With your days, that is.”

Rachel snapped off a piece of lettuce and tasted it. “I’m a freelance translator.”

“Aha! I had figured. I saw the Chinese textbooks.”

“Japanese.”

“Oh. Excuse me.” Zack took a hearty bite of his sandwich. “So you speak Japanese?” Bits of croissant flew out of his mouth.

“Good enough.”

Tags: Cynthia Dane Billionaire Romance
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